Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
SAWYER
Lizzo’s About Damn Time plays through the gym’s speakers and I sing along to the lyrics as I grab a fluffy white towel from the laundry cart. It’s still warm from the dryer and when I shake it out, the air fills with that freshly laundered scent.
“So…” Logan from the juice bar skips up to the front desk and taps excitedly on the counter with both hands. “Last night was date number three!”
I smile at the unfiltered excitement rolling off him. “With the new guy?”
“His name is Jay.” Logan gets a dreamy look in his eyes. “Isn’t that a great name? Jay. So strong. So masculine. Oh, sorry!”
Logan steps back so a member can reach the card scanner.
“Thanks!” I wave the guy through and grab another towel. “Sounds like it’s going well.”
Logan leans over the counter and squeals, “He stayed over last night!”
I lift my hand to give Logan a high five. “Nice! Good score!”
Logan slaps my hand but rolls his eyes. “It’s not a score. I think he might be the one.” He props his chin in his hand, elbow on the counter.
“The one?” The words come out a little garbled as I use my chin to pin a towel to my chest and fold it in half.
“You know, “The One”. My true love. My soulmate. The love of my life.”
I have to laugh. “You’ve been on three dates! You don’t even know the guy!”
“I know him!” Logan’s all indignant now.
“Really?” I shoot him a skeptical look and he huffs.
“Sometimes you just know, okay?”
I shouldn’t be surprised. Logan’s a hopeless romantic.
He falls in love with a new guy every other month, and even though his relationships never work out, his enthusiasm never dims. He’s always certain this next guy will be it, his Prince Charming, and he’ll get swept off his feet.
It hasn’t happened yet. We’re all still waiting.
“How is this guy different from the last guy, what was his name again? K-something?”
Logan reaches over the counter to snag a folded towel for a member. “Here you go! You’re welcome!” Then he turns back to me, waving his hand dismissively. “The last guy was a dud. Jay’s no dud. He’s the one.”
“Is that even a thing?” I ask, replacing the towel Logan snatched with a fresh one.
“Of course, it’s a thing!” Logan gasps, looking legit offended. “You don’t believe you have A One?”
My heart aches in my chest and I suck in a deep breath to release the pressure. Do I have A One? I have no idea. I know who I want to be my “one”. Except, can he be the one when he doesn’t return my feelings?
Logan points over his shoulder in the direction of the gym’s main floor. “Are you going to tell me that Beau and Gavin weren’t destined to be together? What about Christian and Sebastian? Donnie and Connor?”
My heart does that uncomfortable squeezing thing again as Logan lists off all the happy couples at the gym. I discreetly rub my chest as I reach for another towel.
I can’t deny there’s something appealing about the relationships they have. The love radiating off them, the intimacy that wraps around them like a cloak. It’s impossible not to notice the looks they exchange with each other, the silent, coded messages that only their other half can understand.
A gym member wanders over to the juice bar, squinting at the menu.
“Oh! Gotta go!” Logan rushes back to his station and a moment later, the industrial-sized blender starts up.
The whir of the blades, mixed with Lizzo from the speakers and banging equipment from the main floor, leaves me strangely isolated with my own thoughts.
Do I want a relationship like the ones my friends have? Sure, why not? I wouldn’t say no if it came waltzing through the door. But am I going to find it? I don’t know and I don’t really want to think too much about it.
I’ve dated my share of people—guys and girls. I’ve always had a good time and enjoyed their company, but I never seriously considered a long-term relationship with any of them.
Maybe because I’m already in a long-term relationship with someone—a one-sided one.
We’ve never talked about it, but if I had to guess, Preston’s probably asexual and aromantic. He dated Madison in high school, but they always had a lopsided dynamic.
Madison was the driving force and Preston just went along with it. When Madison finally broke it off after we graduated, Preston wasn’t all that upset. He’s never shown interest in anyone since then. He’s certainly never shown that kind of interest in me. All he cares about is his research.
“See ya guys later!” I wave to a group heading out of the gym together. The last person holds the door open for someone to come in.
Dark hair, slim build—for a second I think I’ve conjured up Preston with nothing but my thoughts. But it isn’t Preston. It’s Fitz.
Of course, it’s not Preston. He never comes here. What would he even do in a gym? I shake my head at my own ridiculousness.
“Hey, Fitz!” I call out as he approaches the front desk.
His hair is windblown and his cheeks are a little rosy. His eyes are bright behind his glasses and that dimple appears on his left cheek when he smiles at me. He really is super cute and I find myself leaning over the counter more than I usually do.
“Hey, Sawyer!” Fitz rests his forearms on the countertop, making no move to take out his membership card.
“How was your class this afternoon?” I ask. “What did you say it was? Research ethics?”
He nods. “Yeah, it’s pretty basic stuff, but it’s mandatory, so…” he shrugs. “Preston showed me around the lab, though. That was really cool.”
The mention of Preston sends a trickle of guilt winding through me and I rock backward a little. “Nice. I’ve been in there a couple times. No clue what any of that stuff does.”
Fitz laughs, the sound clear and bright, and his face lights up.
“It’s amazing. I can’t wait to get into the research.
” His excitement for nerdy stuff reminds me of Preston and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that.
On the one hand, Fitz’s obvious passion for brain stuff is super attractive. But on the other—Preston.
“You headed in for a workout?” I ask, pointing toward the locker rooms. “I’ve gotta make my rounds so I can walk with you.”
“Sure!” Fitz fishes out his membership card and sticks it under the scanner.
“Logan!” I shout across the lobby. “Watch the desk for me!”
I wait for the thumbs-up from Logan before slipping out from behind the counter.
“I know I asked this already, but…” Fitz says with his voice lowered and when he hesitates, I glance questioningly at him.
“But?”
“You two seem really close.” He puts extra emphasis on that last word, enough that there’s no doubt what he’s asking.
I chuckle, but the sound is more stilted than I intended. “I mean, we are, but—” I stoop down to pick up a wet wipe abandoned on the floor and walk it over to the trash bin.
Fitz’s giving me a wary look when I turn around again.
“But. We’re just friends.” When Fitz’s expression doesn’t change, I hasten to add, “Preston’s straight.”
“He is?” Fitz furrows his brow.
“Yeah, he’s never looked at a guy before.” He’s never looked at a girl before either, but that’s not something I need to share.
I gesture Fitz into the locker room before me and follow him to a bank of lockers. He picks one at random and pauses with s hand on the metal door.
“That’s surprising.”
“What is?”
“That Preston’s straight. My gaydar definitely pings around him and I’m rarely wrong.”
Fitz is for sure wrong. If anyone knows, it would be me.
Preston hasn’t shown interest in guys, ever.
Even so, Fitz’s statement sparks a tiny flame of hope that I’m reluctant to extinguish.
Nothing will come of it—no amount of hope would be enough.
But still, the idea that Preston might feel even a fraction of what I feel… I can’t help but cling to it.
Fitz rushes on when I don’t respond. “I don’t mean to argue with you. I mean, obviously, you know him better than I do. I just don’t want to trespass or anything.”
I force myself to smile. “Nope, no trespassing.” Although the idea that I belong to Preston is fuel for the doomed hope flickering in me. “No walls or fences or anything. I’m public property.” I wave my arms down my body to present myself to him.
Fitz laughs and it echoes off the metal lockers around us, off the raised ceiling above us. The dimple winks at me and his glasses magnify the blue-gray of his eyes. It’s hard not to be drawn in by the combination, to be enticed. My body reacts, despite the objections of my heart.
“Okay, good.” Fitz’s smile turns sultry and his eyes grow heated.
I take a step closer, pushing aside any doubts that might be lurking. I said I’m public property—and I am. No one has any claim on me, no matter how much I wish that weren’t the case. I’m free to do whatever I want, with whoever I want.
Fitz trails a single finger down the middle of my chest. “I want to use the steam room after my workout, but I don’t remember how to work the controls.” He dips his chin and peers up at me. “Can you show me again?”
He settles his hand on my waist and the warmth of his palm travels through the thin fabric of my t-shirt to my skin.
“Hmm, yeah, it can be a little tricky. The system is pretty sensitive.” I crowd him against the lockers a bit.
He nods. “I wouldn’t want to break anything.”
“No, we wouldn’t want that.”
“So… in about an hour?”
I glance at the clock on the wall. “Gym closes in an hour and a half?”
He smiles. “Works for me.”
Suddenly, the sound of running water cuts out and a couple guys come in from the shower. I step away from Fitz to give them room to get around us.
“An hour and a half,” I repeat as I continue backing away.
“An hour and a half,” he confirms. He holds my gaze for a lingering moment before turning to his gym bag and unzipping it.
I hurry to finish my sweep of the locker room, the showers, and the steam room to make sure there’s nothing I need to take care of and make my way back to the front desk.
Logan’s behind the desk, chatting with Donnie, our spin instructor. The moment Logan spots me, he jumps and lets out an excited shriek.
“O! M! G! Sawyer! You’ve been holding out on me. Who is that hottie?”
I struggle to fight back the smile tugging at my lips. “Who?”
Logan points an accusing finger toward the locker rooms. “You know who! You don’t normally escort gym members to their lockers.”
“Oh, Fitz?” I shrug nonchalantly as I slip behind the desk and grab the last towel in the laundry cart. “You’ve met him before. He joined earlier this week.”
“No, I didn’t!” Logan gives me a light shove on the shoulder. “I was behind the bar. I barely saw the guy.”
“I didn’t meet him,” Donnie says, pulling his reading glasses off his nose. “Who is he?”
“He’s a member. You know.” I direct the last words at Donnie whose boyfriend, Connor, was also a member when they started dating.
Donnie glances back at Logan. “That’s it?”
I should keep my mouth shut. They don’t need to know that extra bit with Preston. But Logan’s giving me ridiculous puppy dog eyes and Donnie’s basically the wisest person on the planet, so if I don’t tell them, who am I going to tell?
“No, that’s not it. He’s also a grad student at Grantham. In the same department as Preston.”
Logan gasps like this is the juiciest piece of gossip to ever pass through the Mars grapevine. “You mean your co-dependent roommate and best friend, Preston?”
I bristle a little at the description, except it’s not an inaccurate one. “Yeah, I only know one Preston.”
“Uh huh. And what does Preston think of Fitz?” Logan asks, poking right at the sore spot.
“Preston doesn’t like him.” I hold up my hands before Logan can go on. “But only because Fitz is new. Preston’s not good with change. He’ll adjust. It’ll be fine.”
Logan narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “Sure, it’ll be fine. Your co-dependent roommate and best friend will adjust to your attention being diverted by someone else.”
“That is not what’s going on.” I object, turning to Donnie with a silent plea for him to back me up.
He winces with a slight head shake, then mouths a “sorry” as he slips his reading glasses back on.
“See? Even Donnie agrees with me.” Logan bumps me with his shoulder before ducking out from behind the front desk and sauntering back to his juice bar.
“You’re wrong!” I shout at him. I wish Preston was jealous, but that would be too good to be true.