• Fifteen •
· Fifteen ·
“Save yourself. I’m vile.”
Briar
Slowing the treadmill until I was no longer running, I reached for my water bottle and took a sip. I was slightly out of breath, but then I’d run harder the past few days and longer than I normally did. Glancing over at the kickboxing class happening in one of the other rooms in the gym, I wondered if I needed to try that. The more I exerted myself, the less energy I had to stew over Storm freaking Kingston.
Turning off the treadmill, I grabbed my towel and stepped off, drying the sweat from my face. I needed to get back up to our apartment and get a shower. Dovie and I had plans for dinner and a movie. One of the books she loved had just been released in the theaters, and she was pumped about it. We were going to go have some Thai, then head over for the late viewing. Having all these things so close to our apartment complex was nice. As was this gym, which came with the amenities.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice said.
I dropped the towel from my face to find an attractive guy, about thirty maybe, with deep brown eyes, smiling down at me. He was tall. I liked tall. NO! I was off men. No more. They always led to me and Dovie running.
“Hello,” I said, trying to be polite when I should just bolt.
“You’re new here,” he pointed out.
I nodded. “Yep.”
His grin grew, and he looked a little shy, which I highly doubted. He was easy on the eyes with a nice body and clean-cut-looking, and I noticed two other women in the room watching us. He had a fan club, it would seem.
“I’m Ajani Michel. I live on the fourth floor,” he said, holding out his hand.
I slipped mine into his and immediately thought about how much smaller his hand was than Storm’s.
Not going there, Briar! Who cares how large that asshole’s hand is or how it feels? UGH! Snap out of it.
“Briar Landry,” I replied, leaving out that I lived on the second floor. Not his business. I didn’t trust men. For good reason.
“There’s no ring,” he said as he glanced down at my hand, and I slipped it free.
I shook my head, giving him a tight smile. “Not made that mistake yet,” I quipped. And I never would.
He chuckled. “Spoken like a man.”
I shrugged. “Or a smart woman.”
He laughed again. “Aside from your aversion to marriage, how do you feel about dinner? With me?”
And there it was. I had known it was coming. The interest was in his eyes.
“As nice as that sounds, I am currently off men and women. Dating in general.”
He let out a deep sigh. “Damn. Bad experience?”
“You could say that,” I replied.
He tilted his head to the side. “What about something less date-like? How do you feel about baseball?”
I licked my lips. “I feel like it’s a good thing to watch when you want to go to sleep.”
Another laugh.
Yes, I am a riot. Just laugh and continue to push this.
“Noted. No baseball. How about music? Concerts?”
He wasn’t going to let this go, and I needed to get upstairs. My night was booked.
“You seem really nice, and”—I glanced around to see at least three women looking this way now—“there is a gym full of women who would be thrilled to go out with you. I bet they’d even sit through a baseball game, awake. But this one”—I pointed to myself—“is a mess. Complete disaster. I’ve got more baggage than anyone should have. The last five relationships I had were because the men were rich and I’m a gold digger. Run away, Ajani. Save yourself. I’m vile,” I told him, then flashed him one real smile because I’d just made myself want to laugh before walking past him and toward the exit.
When I reached our apartment door, I pulled out the key and swiped it, then went inside. Dovie was already dressed in a pair of green shorts and a T-shirt that had The Floor Is Lava on the front. We’d bought it at a thrift store last summer. It was one of her favorites.
“I’ll be ready in twenty minutes,” I told her.
She held up the book in her hand to show me, which translated to, “I’m not in a hurry. I have a book to read.”
“Okay, make that thirty then,” I called out as I hurried to the bathroom.
We both knew that it was going to take me a solid forty minutes, but Dovie was good with the lie.
Dovie covered her mouth to keep from spitting her food and then coughed before taking a drink of her soda.
“I think it’ll keep him away. Don’t you?” I asked.
I had just told her about the man in the gym and what I’d said to him while she had a mouthful of pad thai in her mouth.
She swallowed, then signed, “What did he say next?”
“Nothing. I left him there before he could respond. But really, what could he say to that?”
Dovie’s grin spread across her face as she twisted more noodles around her fork. She refused to eat her pad thai with chopsticks, no matter how hard I tried to convince her how much more fun it made the meal.
“I work Saturday night, of course, but I was thinking we’d drive to the beach that morning and do beachy things.”
She laid her fork down and signed, “Beachy things?”
“Yes. Beachy things. Eat ice cream, lie out on the sand, eat seafood, go buy ugly shirts from the gift shops. The tie-dyed ones that match. That kind of thing.”
She shook her head. “No to the shirts. But I like the other stuff.”
“What about slightly tacky shirts that match?” I suggested.
She mouthed the word, No, then stuck a spoonful of noodles in her mouth.
“Oh, come on. Can you even say you’ve been to the beach if you don’t buy the shirt? We can get cropped ones that are tacky and sexy. All at the same time.”
She shook her head while she chewed.
“You used to be more fun,” I told her. “You know, back before puberty hit.”
She swallowed her food, then stuck out her tongue at me.
“It’s true. Back in the day, when you’d wear matching shirts with me, dance in the car while going down the road, drink those slushies that turned our mouths blue. Those were the days.”
She put her fork down, then signed, “I’ll still drink the slushies.”
I placed a hand over my heart dramatically. “Small blessings! We will go get one and take it to the movies with us.”
She scrunched her nose at me. “Not there.”
“See! I knew it! You will drink one, but you’re too cool to let people see your blue mouth.”
She was smiling as she stuck more pad thai in her mouth.
When I had first found her, she never smiled. I had worked so hard at getting her to smile. Then, one day, she broke out into a huge grin when we were in a Laundromat, washing what little clothes we had, and “Pump Up the Jam” came on the radio they had playing. I dropped the basket I was holding and grabbed Dovie’s hand and spun her around, then began to dance. Sure, people stopped what they were doing to watch, but I didn’t care.
Dovie watched me for a minute, and then she began smiling just before she started to dance with me.
It was a day I would never forget. I’d felt like I had done something of worth. I had unleashed Dovie’s smile on the world.
“What are you thinking about?” she signed. “You got that far-off look on your face.”
I leaned in toward her. “That dance party we had at the Laundromat that time. Do you remember?”
Her eyes lit up, and then she nodded.
“Want to have one now? I can put ‘Pump Up the Jam’ on my phone,” I told her, holding it up and wiggling my eyebrows.
She grabbed my phone and tucked it in her pocket, shaking her head.
“You spoil all the fun,” I grumbled, putting a bite into my mouth, but I was smiling.
If nothing else I did in this world was worth much, I knew I had done one thing right. I had given Dovie another life. It might not be the best one, but it was better than the one we’d both survived. And I’d do whatever I had to in order to make sure her future was nothing like mine. Which was why I had come up with an idea. One I hadn’t thought of until two nights ago, when I’d overheard a conversation at the bar.