Chapter 13
Cam
“What smells so good?” Bowen rubs his eyes then slides his glasses onto his face. His pale legs poke out from his boxers as he stumble walks into the living room. I didn’t want to wake him up, but I have to go to work soon.
“I made rice paper omelets.” I finish up the last one, putting the rice paper down then pouring egg, cabbage, and carrot mixture on top. I wait for it to set, and smile as Bo slides onto the bar stool. “I have to work today.”
“Until when?”
“Just six. I have a couple of classes to teach in the afternoon, and I’m going to help Sam set up for this family fun day she’s planning.” I fold the omelet over, letting it finish, then slide it off onto a plate. “I made dip with gochujang.”
“Thank you.”
I smile, watching him eat. I know there are tons of foods he can eat, but Bo doesn’t really feed himself well. He skips meals and then he’s tired or sick.
Plus, I like feeding him. A lot.
“Did you have fun last night?” Bo asks, lifting his head up between bites. “What’s this?” He asks about the juice.
“Just orange juice.” He takes a sip. “I did. I like your friends.”
Bowen pushes the omelet around. “They can be your friends too, you know.”
Yeah, I know. They feel like Bo’s, though. “Noah is something.”
“Noah sure is something.” Bowen smiles. “I like hanging out with them. I’m excited to go shopping today too.
” His face pinkens a bit. Yeah, I may be more than curious about what they’re going to do today.
Its not my business, though. I’m not his boyfriend.
“You want to do something fun tonight? Movie night?”
“We can go out if you want?” I say, and Bowen’s face twists, his mouth pinching adorably. “Never mind.” I laugh.
“A night in sounds amazing. After last night and today with Noah I think I’m going to be peopled out.
” Bowen finishes his food, and I open my mouth to ask about the kiss last night, but that’s dumb.
It was nothing. It was for the game. That low hum in my belly is mine to deal with.
At least he seems in better spirits after that asshole at the bar.
“Amazing as always. Thank you.” He smiles at me.
It’s off, and now that I think about it, something feels weird right now but I don’t know why.
I swallow it, though. My brain is a mess. It’s probably just me.
“No problem, Bo. What do you want me to make tonight?”
“You know I can cook too?” My brows rise. “I can!” he insists.
“I like cooking.” I smile. “I like cooking for you.” I like cooking for us.
Meals together with jokes and smiles, that’s what I want my days to look like.
It’s odd, I’ve always searched for the next person, trying to find “the one,” but this time I don’t have that urge.
Yes, this is the longest I’ve gone without sex and that kind of sucks, but I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.
“I’m going to head out, okay? See you later. ”
Bowen nods. “Oh, have you thought any more about what you want for your prize? I can tell Noah.”
Something filthy comes to mind. A joke. It’s just a joke. I swallow it, though. The impulsive thought can go to hell. “Not yet. Maybe I’ll think about it at work.”
“Okay. Well, have a good day. Say hi to Sam.” I watch him walk into his bedroom and shut the door.
I really need to sort out this anxiety. I never used to have this issue.
I’ve always felt confident, but I’m not at all sure where Bo and I stand.
We feel normal . . . but different. Did that kiss last night twist him up in the same way it did me?
I want to ask him. I need to get this out or I’ll just obsess over it all day.
Walking toward his bedroom, I grab the doorknob and open the door, but it hits something. “Fuck!” he yells.
“Oh shit, Bo. I’m so sorry.” I rush inside, trampling him, tripping over his feet and stepping on them.
“Dammit, Cam.” He’s hopping on one foot, reaching for the other and holding his head.
“Sorry, so sorry, here.” Reaching for him, I trip, falling into him and knocking him to the ground. I land on top of him, breaking my fall with his ass. “Bo . . .”
Bo whines. “Don’t . . . move,” he croaks.
“Fuck, I am so sorry. So sorry,” I whisper, still half lying on top of him. I’m scared to move.
“I’m waiting for the light to come get me,” he groans. “I feel pain in my . . . everywhere.”
I hover over him. “Can I get you anything?”
“A less clumsy best friend.”
“Anything else. Literally anything else.”
“My brain . . . My balls.”
“I feel like that warrants a dirty joke or something, like ‘Would you want a tongue massage?’ but I don’t think we’re in a place to joke like that right now.”
“Definitely not,” he wheezes. He shoves me off him. “Why did you come in here and assault me?”
Why did I . . . Oh right, the kiss. Well, I will not be asking shit right now. “I’m sorry.” I help him up, wincing at the red mark on his forehead. “I’m so sorry.”
He nods, patting my chest and turning away from me. “Have a good day at work, Cam. I’m going to go cradle my balls.”
“Want help?” The look he gives me is scathing. “Joke. Joking.” Kinda. No! No, I am. Just joking. “I love you. Have a good time with Noah.”
“Aren’t you worried about the equipment and the kids?”
Sam shakes her head, her ponytail swishing with the movement.
“No, I’m going to have the weight room locked and Brendan’s going to have signs up for liability reasons.
Families are welcome but watch your damn kids.
” She smiles at me. I love the dreamy look in her eyes.
Brendan’s her boyfriend and the co-owner of this gym.
He handles a lot of the legal and business side of things while Sam’s more hands on.
I’ve been here for almost seven years and I know how much this gym means to her.
When she first opened it she was going through her transition, and all she wanted was an inclusive space for everyone to be their healthiest. Whatever that looks like.
The fees are low, so everyone can have the chance to be here, and during the month of December she doesn’t even charge her patrons.
She’s worked her ass off, and with new members coming in monthly, business is growing. She’s even looking into other locations to expand. I love being beside her, helping with what I can.
“I’m excited. I’m hoping we can use one of the dance rooms come summer for family-fitness nights. Things have really been picking up.” She pats my shoulder. “And you are part of the reason.”
“Oh, I haven’t done anything.” I finish going through applications. We got six new sign-ups just this morning.
“Cam, you’re like the most incredible trainer I have. You’re the reason why some people come here at all.”
“That can’t be true.” It’s not right. She leans against the desk, looking at me. “What?”
“Cam, come on. You’re brilliant and sweet. You’re encouraging, and firm when you need to be. The plans you make for people actually work. They stick to them. Your clients see the most change out of everyone here. You work magic for them.”
I wouldn’t say that. I just don’t believe in cutting out the fun parts of life—and food is fun, but diets are bullshit.
Diets don’t even work, so I suggest alternatives to things people already love, because eating food that’s both healthy and tasty makes all the difference.
Same thing with exercise. I genuinely love working out, but I know it’s not for everyone.
It shouldn’t be hard. “I’m not doing anything special. ”
Sam squeezes my shoulder. “You’re incredible, Cam. Don’t short change yourself.”
A tiny smile slips onto my face. I don’t think I’m doing anything big here.
I’m just treating people like people, which isn’t hard in theory.
In practice, there’s a lot of room for people to improve.
Especially at the gym. Being kind is free.
“Thank you.” I glance at the clock. It’s nearly four, and I kind of want to go home and see Bo.
“Hey, do you mind if I go home a little early today?”
“I was just singing your praises. Why?” she jokes.
“If I can’t, it’s okay. I was just thinking of meeting Bo at home a bit earlier.”
“You guys still living together?” she asks, curiosity in her brown eyes.
“Yeah, it’s working out really well, actually.” More than a little too well, but Sam doesn’t need to know that.
“Yeah, just finish up these applications, make sure everyone here is set, and then you can go.” She walks away just as our front doors open and a man walks through.
He’s a little shorter than I am, with neatly styled black hair that’s shaved on the sides, and long and slicked back on the top.
His handsome face is set in the bitchiest of resting faces—his lips pursed, eyebrows in a glower. His sharp jaw is clenched.
And he’s walking right up to me.
Hands in his dress pants pockets, a button-down black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and surveying the gym, he’s fit, but slimmer than I am.
And scary.
He walks up to the counter, pulling his hands out of his pockets, and his unnerving violet eyes land on me, his face not breaking into any sort of emotion. “Um, hi . . . uh, can I help you?”
“Do you have a boxing ring here?” is all he asks, with the touch of an accent. Russian? I’m not really sure. It’s faint, barely even there.
“Um, yes we do, it’s uh, downstairs.”
“How does it work? Is it free to use or do you need to sign up?”
The whiplash from his questions takes my brain a moment to catch up.
“Well, you need a membership, and then yeah, you can sign up. There’s a schedule for signs-ups online or you can do it here.
You get a thirty-minute session, but if no one’s waiting after you, you can stay, that’s okay. Sam doesn’t mind.”
“Sam?”
“The owner. She runs this gym with her partner.”
“And you are?”