Chapter Three #2
With a rough sigh, I open the door and walk in.
“Marcello!” Giles says as he looks up from behind the glass-top counter which stretches out along the right-hand side.
He looks freshly showered and groomed - unlike myself - and his voice and face suggest he's very surprised to see me but not necessarily in a bad way. At least I don’t think so. Or rather, I hope not.
“Er, hi, Giles,” I stutter and close the door behind me. “Is now a good time?”
Giles looks at my hands. “If you're here with coffee and baked goods, now is a very good time.”
“I am.” I walk over to place the cup and bag on the glass counter that stands between us. “One of Mamma’s chocolate croissants, fresh out of the oven, and an extra hot, extra shot latte.”
Giles’ hand reaches for the bag. “Hmm, it's still warm.” He makes a gravelling humming sound that has me smiling and thinking about what my mother said, 'A teddy bear' who appreciates freshly baked pastries. What on earth was I thinking being intimidated by him?
“Listen,” I say as Giles wastes no time opening up the bag. “I want to apologise for what happened earlier, at the gym. I acted like a dick.”
“Whehwn yew wan awhey frompf mey?” Giles says around a mouthful of croissant. Fortunately I am an expert at understanding people trying to speak while enjoying my café's offerings.
“Yes, when I ran away from you,” I say very sheepishly.
Giles swallows and I notice how even that seems to engage a number of muscles around his jaw. I didn't even know it was possible to have muscle tone there.
“Yeah, that was a bit dickish. I thought I'd done something to upset you.”
“No! God, no,” I insist. “I was just... embarrassed.”
Giles' frown is deep. He probably has muscles on his forehead too. “Why were you embarrassed?” He takes another bite.
I look him up and down taking in his tartan suit and then give myself a once over. “Because look at you and look at me.”
Giles' forehead muscles dig even deeper. "I'm not following you?”
“You are built like Adonis and I'm built like a donut.” I poke my soft belly for effect.
Giles switches to working out his smile muscles and it's a very nice smile. Wide and warm and genuine, making his moustache bounce. "You're a very attractive man, Marcello. You shouldn't think otherwise.”
Ridiculously I feel a small amount of heat rush to my cheeks at the compliment. “Well, err, thanks.”
“The gym is for everybody. And I mean that in terms of every kind of body as well as for every person.” Giles takes a long sip of coffee and then closes his eyes as he swallows again.
“Fuck, you make good coffee over there. Thank you for bringing these over.” He lifts his hands which hold the coffee cup and the pastry.
“It's the least I can do after, you know...”
“You ran away from me?” Giles winks at me and I feel my shoulders finally relax. Seems like he really is okay about it now, which I suppose means I should get out of here and let him get on with his day.
“Well, thanks for being so cool about it,” I say and start to move back.
“Wait," Giles says and he starts walking around the counter and onto the shop floor, brushing his hands together to wipe away crumbs. “We should go together.”
“Go together?” It's my turn to frown. “Go where together?”
“The gym.” Giles gives me another moustache-bouncing smile.
He's less than a metre in front of me now and I realise that I can smell his cologne, or what I assume is that.
It's a soft scent with hints of eucalyptus and dry earth.
It's not at all unpleasant. If it wasn't weird, I would ask him what it is he's wearing.
“You want to go to the gym with me?” I put my finger on myself again, this time my chest which is slightly more solid than my stomach. Slightly.
“Sure. It would be fun.”
“Fun? The gym?” I grimace.
Giles laughs. “You know it isn't that bad. Do you think I'd go so much if it was? Maybe I can help you enjoy it a bit more.”
“I'm only really going to build up some strength,” I admit. "I've signed up for a triathlon, you see and—”
“A triathlon? That's incredible!” Giles declares and it really does seem like he's impressed.
“I've only signed up, mind you,” I point out. “Who knows if I'll actually do it.”
“You'll do it,” Giles says crossing his arms which only seems to exaggerate just how broad and solid his chest is. Giles isn't a tall man – he's three or four inches shorter than me – but his stockiness is something that always takes me by surprise no matter how often our paths cross.
“If I have ten percent of your confidence, I'll be okay,” I say with a huff of a laugh.
“I'll help you,” he adds.
“At the gym?” My eyebrows lift.
“Yes, and I'd be happy to run or bike or swim with you too. I could be an accountability partner. You'll check in with me every week so I can help you keep an eye on your progress.” He nods as if it's decided but I find myself shaking my head.
“God, no, I won't make you do the running or cycling or shit, the swimming. I keep forgetting about that part,” I say, and rub a hand against the back of my neck. "But the accountability partner could come in handy.”
My brain will like that. My brain won’t be able to make excuses about going to the gym if I know somebody is meeting me there. Somebody who I don’t want to act an idiot in front of… again.
“And the gym? We'll do the strength training together?” Giles takes another sip of coffee.
“You really want to?”
“I'm there five days a week. I may as well put some of that time towards helping you feel a bit less, what was it?”
“Embarrassed.”
“Also you'd be doing me a favour,” he says and uncrosses his arms, one of his hands coming up to stroke through his short mousey brown hair that has distinguished flecks of silver running through it.
“By making you look even more swol?"
He snorts out a quick laugh. “No, by maybe putting off someone who keeps... accosting me in the gym."
I cross my arms and give him a knowing smile. “Caught a gym bunny's eye have you? Is that the right terminology for girls who go to the gym?”
I could be mistaken but Giles gets a little colour in his cheeks.“It actually is very apt terminology but this gym bunny is a guy not a girl."
Giles is gay. Of course he is. He dresses well. He works out religiously. He has a moustache that should look ridiculous but in fact is nothing but distinguished. He owns a tailors. And he smells really good, for crying out loud. I really am hopelessly straight and blinkered.
“Not that I expect you to act like we're, you know, together,” he adds in a rush and I don't exactly know why. “I don't need a fake boyfriend.”
“Am I not your type?” I ask in a possibly weak attempt at a joke.
Giles looks stunned by the question. “You? I don't... I just assumed you're straight, Marcello,” he says and it almost sounds like an apology.
“Oh, yeah, I am. Straight as an arrow, if not as sharp. I was just teasing.”
“Oh, right. Yeah.” Giles smile is a lot less enthusiastic. There is no bounce in his moustache.
“So you want me to basically act like a bodyguard so this gym bunny stops bothering you?”
“Something like that.”
“I can do that.”
“You don't mind?”
“I think the question is whether you mind helping me learn how to maybe, possibly also get a little bit fitter so the triathlon in October doesn’t send me to hospital."
Giles' smile is a lot more genuine again and I don't know why but that brings me some relief. “I think you may just surprise yourself, Marcello.”
It's at hearing him say my name that I realise something. Giles is a decent bloke. Heck, he could even become a friend if I don't make a total idiot of myself while in his company at the gym.
“Let me give you my number and we can plan when we'll go, maybe next week?”
Giles pulls his phone out of his pocket while frowning again. “Next week? No. We'll go tomorrow.” He hands his phone over, unlocked. “I'm already looking forward to it.”
I type my number in and then call myself so I have his number.
“There you go,” I say as I hand him his phone back.
“I'll text you to find out the best time. I'm coming in early so anytime should work for me.”
“I'm not going to be able to get out of this, am I?” I say with a small sigh.
“No way. And who knows? You may end up loving me for it," Giles says, his arms crossed and his moustache bouncing in a broad grin again.