Chapter 8
8
BECK
“ B eck! Phone!”
I looked up to see Roman waving the gym’s landline over his head, an amused smile playing on his lips.
I dropped the mat I’d been folding up and walked over to the reception desk.
I mouthed who is it at Roman, and he said loudly, “It’s your boyfriend.”
Jesus Christ.
I glared at him, snatched the phone from his hand and covered the mouthpiece. “Monday morning. Nine AM. You and me,” I said. He laughed and walked away.
“Asshole,” I muttered.
Kyle was my fucking ex -boyfriend, but Roman insisted on busting my balls about it.
I brought the phone to my ear, steeling myself for a conversation I didn’t want to have at work. “Hey, I thought I told you not to call here,” I said, leaning against the desk. The setting sun was streaming through the double glass entrance doors, casting everything in red, orange, and pinkish hues.
“Hey, Beck. Yeah, sorry, you just never texted me back the other day and I tried calling your cell a few times. I wasn’t sure if you were working or not and I was starting to get a little worried,” Kyle said with a nervous laugh.
I rubbed my eyes and sighed. Kyle was really nice. He was great. We’d tried our hand at a relationship for a few weeks, but it just wasn’t for me, and when I could see that he was much more into it than I was, I broke things off as gently as I could.
A month ago.
It seemed he was having a hard time letting go, and I was having a hard time telling him to just buzz off completely. Kyle had said something about remaining friends, and even though I wasn’t sure how well that would work out, I’d agreed because I honestly hadn’t thought we’d really speak again.
And fuck me, I was so fucking wrong. He was Roman’s roommate, too, and no matter how many times I told Rome that I didn’t see it going anywhere with Kyle, he kept insisting on being an asshole. I knew he loved us both, and maybe on paper we’d work, but it just didn’t feel right to me.
“Yeah, I’ve been really busy, sorry.”
“Oh…I just thought maybe we could grab a drink tonight? Watch the game? Or tomorrow, if you’re busy? You don’t work Sundays, right?”
Fuck me.
“No, it’s my one day off,” I told him. I wasn’t much of a liar, but I really hoped he’d just come off it.
Roman and I ran the gym together, after the previous owner and one of my instructors growing up decided it was time to retire and move to Virginia to be closer to his extended family. He left the gym to us, and while there were a few part-time instructors that worked during the week, it was basically me and Roman running the show. It was a lot of work, but we loved it. We were Gardiner’s only MMA gym and we were proud of that. The small college town brought in enough business, especially when students thought they’d fancy a go at mastering some form of martial arts. Most of them usually dropped out of the classes after a month or so.
“Sorry, Kyle, I’m pretty tired tonight and I’m helping Anya with a school project tomorrow.”
“Oh, what’s the project? Maybe I could help?”
Oh my fucking god. This was so goddamn painful. I was going to kill Roman for answering this call.
“No, we can do it, but thank you. It’s a physics project, she’s gotta use an egg carton and craft a lightweight container that can withstand a two-story fall and keep an egg from cracking.” It was the dumbest thing I’d ever heard of.
“Oh, cool. I love physics. It’s such a vast subject that really explains?—”
“Hey, I’m sorry, but I really need to get back to work,” I said, feeling like a dick for interrupting but I really did need to finish closing up. “How ‘bout I give you a call later, when I’m home?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course, sorry,” he laughed. “It was good to hear your voice.”
I covered my face with my hand and said, “You too. Bye, Kyle.”
“Bye, Beck.”
I ignored the sultry tone of his voice and hung up the phone, smashing it back into the cradle. “Roman!” I shouted, stalking toward his office. “Get out here!”
His smiling face appeared from behind the door, and then he was yanking it open all the way and meeting me on the floor. “How’d it go? When’s the engagement party?”
“You need to stop encouraging him,” I gritted out. When Roman just waggled his eyebrows at me, I said, “I’m serious, Rome. I’m done with him. It’s been over for a month now and it feels like neither of you is letting it go or getting the idea.”
Roman sighed. “Fine, I’m sorry. But you guys would make really cute babies.”
“Christ,” I muttered. “I’m twenty-four, I’m not thinking about babies right now! Just quit egging him on, I’m serious.”
Roman’s eyes searched mine, his grin fading. “Okay. All right, I’m sorry. I’ll stop. You just both mean a lot to me, and I thought you guys were perfect for each other. But I’ll stop now. Maybe I’ll take him to some kind of speed-dating thing.” He slapped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed.
I brushed him off. “You should. And can you please go wipe down the rest of the mats so we can get the fuck out of here? I’m hungry and tired and it’s been a long fucking week.”
“Yeah, don’t I fucking know it. Are you good to take Ben next week?” Roman grabbed the wipes and started cleaning the mats.
Ben was one of his clients, but he wanted to try BJJ—Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu—which was my strong suit. I’d trained in both wrestling and BJJ growing up, but Roman had only trained in kickboxing his entire life, so he wasn’t really qualified.
“Yeah, I can take him. He’s, what? Six two? Six three?”
“Six three. Not as big as you, but almost. Strong, too. His fucking legs are like the jaws of life.” Roman shook his head. “Anyway, thanks. I know you’re busy, so I appreciate it.”
“You got it,” I said, grabbing the giant drawstring bag of equipment and heading toward the storage room in the back.
I was fucking exhausted, and all I wanted to do was lie on the couch and fall asleep to shitty action flicks while Anya sang as she cooked in the kitchen.
My brain was completely frazzled today. Despite my attempts to keep them out, memories of Gavin Forster had been flooding my mind all day and I had no clue what triggered them.
Probably just being at this fucking gym. That happened, sometimes.
I wondered where he was, right now, at this exact moment. What he was doing. I knew he was out of jail—had been for a while now. Last I heard, he was at some bar causing a scene about five months ago. But it was a story from a friend who knew someone whose cousin’s wife’s sister saw the whole thing happen, and who knew if it was true or not.
Sounded about right, though, with the way he’d been living his life.
From the time we were seven until my mom and I moved when I was fourteen, we’d taken lessons here together. For seven years, we’d trained in jiu-jitsu, cheered each other on, grappled and sparred. His dad had removed him from this gym when we were fourteen, and I assumed he put him in another one because he continued to wrestle at school, continued to improve.
I struggled with my performance for a long time, struggled to enjoy a sport that I’d only ever done with Gavin. I was lonelier than I’d ever been, and at times, I even considered quitting because the sorrow was just too much to bear.
But that sadness eventually began to fade into the background, became crystallized in some shadowed part of my soul, and I got better. I learned to live with it embedded there, and some days I never even felt it.
But I felt it today. Fuck, did I feel it. I didn’t want to; my life was good. Everything was good .
And still, in spite of the good things in my life—because they were there, even though they were hard to see sometimes—I felt like I was walking around with a black cloud around me. I was sure that if people looked hard enough, all they would see was a smudge of darkness blotting out a piece of their world. An inky stain that drifted from place to place, the person inside not visible at all.
Some days I had the fortitude to believe everything was fine. That I was actually happy. And then the day would end and the lie would fall to the ground, the cut strings of a thin curtain concealing a truth that, if I looked hard enough, if I stared too long, would break me.
When I finished putting everything away, I locked up my office, said goodbye to Roman, and left.
As soon as I got outside, I took in a long, deep breath, left the memories behind, and headed home.
I only made it halfway before it all went to shit.