Chapter 26
“Membership number?” the woman behind the counter at the entrance said.
I held the coffee up. “Just here for a delivery.” Maybe I should’ve waited in my car. That was my intention as I drove over here: to catch Oliver as he was leaving. But the motivation to surprise him had come over me as I parked the car.
“Someone ordered a coffee delivery to the gym?”
“Yep.”
“Just leave it here and I’ll call them up front. Who’s it for?”
“I have to hand deliver it. That’s what is in the instructions.” I said all this while walking past her. I was surprised when she just shrugged and went back to flipping through papers on the desk.
The gym smelled like rubber and sweat and lemon-scented cleaning products as I wound my way through the cardio section, full of stair-steppers and treadmills and stationary bikes.
It wasn’t until I was almost to the free weights section that it occurred to me that Oliver might not want to see me.
What if he had come to the opposite conclusion I had in the past few days—that he didn’t like me?
I stutter-stepped past a man at the squat rack, hesitating.
But then I saw Oliver toward the back. He wore a T-shirt, shorts, and a black pair of running shoes.
I was hoping for more exposed skin, like the man standing next to him at the squat rack in a sleeveless shirt and short shorts, but that wasn’t Oliver, I was learning.
My heart expanded in my chest and I finished my walk.
“I’m here to settle a debt,” I said.
Oliver, a dumbbell in each hand, met my eyes in the mirror he stood in front of. A smile that filled me with hope lit up his face. “And you thought this was the perfect time for settling debts?” He took in my outfit: a pair of ripped jeans, a tank top, some flip-flops.
“I was hoping for more skin, but yes,” I said.
“I’m showing my calves.” He extended one out for me to get a better look.
“Beautiful,” I said.
He reracked his dumbbells and turned to face me. “I’m pretty picky about my coffee.”
“Based on the one time I saw you drink it, I think I know your order. But in case I’m wrong, I have a backup option in the car.”
“You can tell someone’s order just by looking at it.”
“It’s one of my superpowers.”
He narrowed his eyes and reached for the iced coffee I held. He took a sip.
“Am I right?”
His eyebrows popped up in surprise. “Yes.”
“Really?”
“No.”
I laughed. “I have one more chance. When you’re done here, though. Keep working out.” I sat on the nearest bench as if I was ready for the show.
“I can be done.”
“No, no, finish. I really didn’t mean to make you stop. I was just too excited.”
“To bring me coffee?”
“No, I got my first query today.” I assumed he remembered what the word query meant from helping me with the website.
“Someone wants you to be their agent?”
I nodded, feeling a little choked up all of a sudden.
He took two big steps forward and used his hand that wasn’t holding the coffee he didn’t want to pull me up off the bench and into a tight one-armed hug. “Congratulations,” he said against my temple.
He was slightly sweaty and warm, which sent a shot of energy straight through me, leaving me buzzing.
“It probably won’t result in anything,” I said, clinging to his shoulders.
How could I miss someone so much that I’d only seen in person a handful of times?
“It takes a hundred queries to get a few promising ones.”
“It’s a step worth celebrating.”
I nodded. That’s why I was here. He was the first person I wanted to tell. “I was so scared nobody was going to email me.”
“I had no doubts,” he said. Someone dropping a weight bar behind him rang out.
My cheeks felt warm and my heart fluttery. “I got a query, Oliver.”
“You did.”
I used his shoulders to push away from him, look him in the eyes, and yell, “I got a query!”
He smiled big. “You did,” he responded in an inside voice.
“I’m going to get you your real coffee from my car.” I took the one from his hand and dropped it in a trash can to our right. “Prepare to be impressed.”
“I would’ve drank that,” he said.
“The designer of my perfect website deserves his real coffee order.”
I headed for the exit. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him pick up a duffel bag and towel near the weight rack and jog after me.
“Thank you,” I said to the front desk lady.
“Did you get a good tip?” she asked.
“The best,” I said, thinking about that warm, sweaty hug.
“Have a good day, Oliver,” she said as I pushed open the door.
“You too,” he responded.
I slowed my walk so he could catch up and steered us toward my car. We passed his on the way and he deposited his duffel bag in the trunk.
“Welcome to my car,” I said when we arrived. “I know you’ve met her before, but you didn’t get a proper introduction due to the whole, you know…”
“Crying thing?” he asked.
I smiled. “Exactly. Anyway, this is Persephone.” I opened the passenger door for him.
“Persephone?”
“Yes, I’ve always been dramatic. She’s been with me for eleven of her thirteen years of life and, despite her namesake’s ties to the underworld, she’s never done me dirty.”
“You got her when you were sixteen?”
“I did.”
He pointed to the door I was still holding open. “Are you wanting me to sit in the car?”
“Yes. You must sit and relax with your coffee for a few minutes. You and your muscles have earned it.”
I shut the door after he climbed in and walked around to the other side.
Once sitting down, I set my phone on the center console and gathered the drink from the cup holder, presenting it to him like a prize.
“Since you wouldn’t let me pay you for the website, I have to pretend like this is more valuable than it is. ”
“It’s priceless,” he said.
I waited eagerly while he took his first sip. He tested it like a glass of wine on a vineyard tour. “Did you hear me order at the coffee shop?”
“I didn’t. I’m just that good.”
When he didn’t seem to buy that explanation, I said, “I’ve been someone’s assistant for four years. I’ve seen a lot of drinks. Plus, I saw a couple of the letters they wrote on your cup.” I admitted.
He laughed. “You pay attention.” His eyes drifted to the gym. “Really pay attention.”
“You told me your schedule. And you’re a schedule guy. Like my sister. Remember? I knew you’d be here.”
“Right, like your sister. Predictable,” he muttered. “Where’s yours?”
“My schedule? You know I don’t have one of those. Organized chaos.”
“No, where’s your coffee?”
“If I got one for myself yours wouldn’t seem so special.”
He chuckled.
I swallowed, not sure how to tell him what I wanted to tell him.
I like you seemed too flippant. I didn’t want him to think I was just telling him because I wanted to sleep with him.
Because even though I really really wanted that, I wanted other things more—his calming presence, his contagious laugh, his cheesy jokes… him.
The timer on my phone screen caught his attention. Fourteen minutes and thirty-four, thirty-three, thirty-two… “Am I on the clock?”
“Sorry, I have clothes in the dryer as we speak.” I had moved them over right before I came, wishing I hadn’t discovered my feelings for Oliver after I’d started the washing machine. “Fourteen more minutes before I become the annoying person who leaves clothes in the communal laundry.”
“I only have fourteen more minutes with you?”
You have all the time you want , I almost said. “You better make them good,” is what I actually said.
His eyes darted to my lips and my stomach fluttered. But instead of doing anything, he took another drink of his iced coffee. “Tell me about the query.”
“Last-man-on-Earth-in-a-sea-of-women type of story. I read the first five pages of the manuscript that were included with the email. Not a compelling start, and since I’m not in love with the premise to begin with, I’ll pass.”
“So what do you do, then? Tell her no, thanks?”
“Basically. That’s the hardest part of the job. But just because her story wasn’t for me, doesn’t mean someone else won’t love it.”
“Is this how you soften rejection at the end of bad dates as well? Tell them someone else will love their less-than-lovable qualities?”
I laughed, then put on my best end-of-date voice. “Just because you’re not for me doesn’t mean someone else’s standards aren’t lower.”
“Maybe someone else will have no feelings or self-esteem and love you so very much,” he added to my pretend conversation.
“No, but really. Everyone has different tastes. In books and men.”
“Speaking of, is your taste that book you had me read? Cash.”
“Who’s Cash?”
“The love interest in the book I borrowed.”
“Oh, I have no idea. I remember liking the book, but I don’t remember what Cash is like.
I like all different kinds of book heroes.
” I tried to remember the specifics when suddenly it occurred to me that Cash was a bad boy.
He was the cuss at random strangers and animals but who was secretly hurting inside type of guy.
“No. Some heroes are fun to read about but in reality they’d be dicks. Cash would make a terrible boyfriend.”
“So you’re telling me I shouldn’t develop pyromania?” he asked. “On the side.”
“No…” My heart pounded against my ribs, trying to beat out of my chest. “You’re just right.”
“We are very different.”
“You and Cash? I know.”
“No, you and me.”
My heart seemed to fall to my feet. Was he trying to break things off with me just when I’d discovered my feelings for him?
“Is this about Rob?” I blurted. “Are you worried there’s still something between us?
I promise I am completely over him. That stupid fire emoji next to his name proves how little I pull his number up on my phone.
I forgot it was there. And I deleted that picture from my Insta. ”
He nodded slowly. “That’s good.”
“I don’t want you to worry about him.”
“I don’t,” he said.
“Then what? Is it my sister?”
His brows shot down as if confused.