Chapter 16 Cecily #2
We walk to the treadmills to walk a mile. “Don’t tell my secrets to the world, Ce.”
I cross my heart. “It’s safe with me, puck boy.”
We hop on the treadmills, silence falling between us. He scrolls through his phone while I stare straight ahead, zoning out about everything I have going on. I have a project due soon, a paper, and my list of work negotiations is ongoing.
Dylan slides his phone onto my treadmill five minutes in.
“What’s this?”
“Read it.”
I grab his phone and read a couple of sentences. I cover my mouth, hiding my embarrassment.
“You read smut?” I gasp.
He laughs. “Gotta get action somewhere.”
“No, Dylan,” I chuckle. “No way. Wait. Let me reread it.”
I grab his phone back and read the rest of the scene. It’s hot. Filthy. Dirty.
I smile, handing it back. “You keep that locked and loaded?”
“No,” he laughs. “Look.”
He shows me how he searched the word pussy in the search bar, and he clicks on the most obvious sex scenes later in the book.
“You little smut,” I scoff, turning my treadmill higher.
“And you’re my little moo.”
My brows furrow as I start running. The pace is too slow, so I break into a sprint.
“Yeah?” he says competitively.
Now we’re sprinting side by side. The truth is that the sex scene I read was hot, and I need to cool off.
He turns off his machine and steps aside. Out of breath. “Okay, Coach. What’re we doing today?”
“It’s our rest day, so we shouldn’t be here, but…”
“But we’re here. Need to relieve some stress?”
“Yeah, spot me. I’m going to do the three exercises that kick my ass and go. What about you?”
He flexes his arms. “I could use a pump in my arms.”
We high-five. “Let’s get it, smut.”
“Right behind you, moo.”
“I bet you like that,” I say over my shoulder. Usually, I don’t second-guess my smart ass remarks, but what I just said sounded flirty and sexual and like I am implying something.
We get through two sets before Marina walks into the gym.
Dylan is panting from his second set when she pops over.
“Hey.”
“What’s up, Marina?” Dylan says.
“Hey, Marina,” I say, glancing at Dylan. His eyes are on her.
“Are y’all almost done already?” she asks, setting herself up next to us.
“Yeah, I have one more set.”
Dylan nods. “Same.”
I notice Dylan watching me, but I ignore him, reaching for my weights. I start to do my Bulgarian split squats, and my legs are screaming at me to end this torture. But I don’t stop. I keep going until I reach fifteen and start on the other side.
“I need to take your advice, Cecily,” Marina says, throwing off my focus. “You’re growing a dump truck, girl.”
She’s not wrong. And right now, with this pump, the muscle is hypertrophying a few inches.
“Fourteen. Fifteen.” I squeeze, push harder. At the top, I drop my leg and exhale. “Holy hell.”
Dylan is starting his set, so I spot him.
“Are you going until you burn out?” I ask.
He pushes to the top and nods.
I stand there, knowing he’s not going to drop the bar. I catch Marina’s eye on his bulge. When her eyes meet mine, I don’t look away.
“So, the hockey game is tonight, right?” she asks.
I look down at Dylan, who is pushing beyond his limit and in no mood for small talk.
I ignore her, waiting for Dylan to be done. After another minute, he sits up. “Yeah, the game’s tomorrow. Not tonight. You coming?”
She beams. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
This little gym crush she has used to be entertaining, but I know Dylan is only being friendly to her like he would anyone else. Me? I’m not like that.
For my last set, I do hip thrusts until my core shakes, my legs tremble, and my glutes feel full.
I leave these two to hit the locker room and drench my face with water.
I can’t help but check my phone, searching for emails that don’t exist. Maybe I should set a solid rule for myself and turn off my phone every weekend, unplug.
As soon as the thought enters my mind, it leaves.
I can’t stay relevant or on people’s minds if I miss a day of posting.
With how fast-moving social media is, I need to stay active daily.
When I cut around the corner, I bang into a chest. “Shit. Sorry.”
It’s Dylan, so I roll my eyes.
“What’re you doing?” I ask.
“Waiting for you. You good?”
I nod, walking off. “How’s Marina?”
“Shooting her shot,” he jokes.
My stomach sinks at hearing that. The pit grows into something that makes me clench. Shit.
“You okay?”
I nod with a smile. “Yeah. Just…” I stare off into space. “I think I’m hungover and pushed a little too hard. You should hang out with Marina.”
He looks a little thrown off by my comment, so I walk past him. He’s right at my side as we leave the gym. “Why would I do that?”
“You guys have things in common.”
“Like what?”
“She likes to work out.”
He chuckles as we leave the gym. “Moving ten pounds and never gaining muscle is barely working out.”
I shrug. “She’s committed.”
“Committed to seeing me here.”
I glance at his arms then. They’re swollen and thick. Hot, but I don’t think much of it. We climb into his truck, and as he drives off, he asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Do you feel any different because of the pill?”
“No.”
“You seem on edge.”
“Yeah, lack of sleep and alcohol will do that.” I sigh. “That’s why I keep a tight routine. Anything else throws me off.”
He comes to a complete stop at the red light and looks over. “You’ll tell me if the pill bothers you?”
“Yeah. I’ll let you know. Are you worried? Did you get lost in Dr. Google?”
He shakes his head. “Just don’t want anything bad to happen.” The light turns green, and he’s driving again. “Are you coming to the game?”
I shake my head. “No, I have a meetup.”
“For work?” he asks.
“Some work, some play.”
The drive to my apartment is filled with the radio commercials.
“Thanks for the lift,” I say, hopping out. “Good luck with your game.”
“I’ll see you at the gym on Monday.”
I shut his door and walk to my front door. I listen to see whether he is driving away. When I glance over my shoulder, I catch his gaze and wave.
He drives off right then, and I enter my house, smelling him as I enter.
I open my phone and text Alix.
Cecily: I got drunk last night.
Alix: What!
Cecily: And I hooked up with someone.
Alix is calling.
Shit.
“Hi,” I answer the phone.
“No fucking way, Ce. You hooked up with someone? Who?”
Shit, that’s the part I don’t want to reveal.
“Spill the beans, bitch!”
“Dylan,” I wince.
She inhales sharply. “Dylan? Dylan who?”
“This guy I became friends with. We’re just friends, though. Nothing more.”
“I literally gave you the green light with Dane,” she scoffs.
I huff. “I know. I know. Oh my god. It just sort of happened with Dylan, but it was just a one-time thing. Dane is endgame.”
“My brother will have a goddamn heart attack hearing about this.”
I backpedal. “No, no, no. You cannot tell your brother, Alix!”
I hear the smile in her voice. “Why not?” she prolongs.
My stomach twists into a knot. How do I tell my best friend that her brother has been my crush for the longest time, and the reason I’m using Dylan in the first place?
She gave me the green light the last time we talked, and I want to be experienced.
I want to impress Dane when I finally hook up with him.
“Because you know I don’t hook up with just anyone, and this needs to stay a secret. I’m not dating Dylan—”
“Right, you’re just using him?”
“Don’t make me sound like such a bitch.”
“You are a bitch,” she argues.
I huff. “You wouldn’t believe how much of a bitch I was being to Dylan today.”
“Oh, I can imagine. You’re always a big bitch to me,” she states. “I know you’re only best friends with me so that you can get with my brother.”
Here we go. Her lifelong tale about me wanting to seduce her brother, and that I only put up with her. It’s all lies. I love her. But I let her say that anyway because I do want her brother.
I defend myself at the very least. “He replies to my stories. I can’t help that.”
“Well, how about this? I won’t tell Dane about your little situation if you…”
Great. I know what’s coming. Sometimes in life, it’s all about who you know and what you know so that you can twist it to your advantage. Right now, my best friend is being a smart businesswoman. She’s going to squeeze me dry every time I squirt some juice her way.
“Okay?” she says.
I shake my head. “What?”
“Yeah,” she says.
“No, I mean, I don’t know what you said. Now what?” I completely zoned out and tuned her out.
“You’re going to help me be an influencer. I want all your contacts, and I want shout-outs.”
“What?” I say.
She snickers. “Jesus, Cecily. Pay the fuck attention to what I’m saying!”
“I heard you, but are you serious?”
“I’m dead serious.”
“No,” I blurt. “I’ve been building my contacts since we were in high school. I’m not going to hand them over. And I’m on contract with my agency. Get yourself a following, get an agent, and do the damn work. Nothing’s free.”
She FaceTimes me, so I answer. She’s running through her mansion, looking youthful as hell with all her daddy’s money.
“Hey, Dane?” she calls out.
He answers, so she walks up the stairs.
“You’re not doing what I think you’re doing?” I whisper. “Are you insane?”
“Yeah?” Dane says. She faces the phone to him, and my heart skips a beat.
Slicked back hair, hooded eyes, perfect lips, blue eyes.
“Cecily?” He yanks the phone from her hands and walks away as she shouts at him to give it back.
“Have you heard my sister’s cut off? Poor little thing can’t get herself under control. ”
“Fuck you!” Alix shouts. “Give me back my fucking phone!”
“Fine,” Dane laughs.
When Alix comes back on the screen, I say, “Okay, I’ll do it. Why didn’t you tell me? I had no idea.”
“Why would I tell you when you’re living the perfect life?” she scoffs. “You’re about to have your degree. You have a successful business. You have friends. And what am I doing? Living off my parents? I need to make what you’re making. I need my own money.” She starts crying.
I sit down on my couch. “Shit, I’m sorry, Alix. I had no idea. And hey, my life’s not perfect.”
She whisper-yells at me as she walks back outside, “Yes, you fucking are! Don’t take it for granted, or I will drive over there to slap some sense into you!”
That makes me laugh. I have to laugh because she’s right. But I am grateful, and I am downplaying it for her.
The call ends, and I’m left in my empty apartment, remembering what it was like to hang out at her pool all day. Those are my core memories—a rich best friend with her hot older brother.
I scroll through Instagram, through Dane’s profile.
He doesn’t post much, but he doesn’t need to.
He’s the hottest guy ever to roam this earth.
Usually, guys with money are deadbeat ugly, but not this one.
He’s perfectly built with a towering height.
Though not as tall as these hockey players.
But he’s tall with good style. I’ve never seen him disheveled.
If there were anyone put on this earth for me, it would be Dane.
Alix: Send me those contacts.
I stare at her message until it disappears.
I wish I hadn’t told her my secret when she had been hiding her own.
I hate distance. I hate that she thinks my life’s put together because of social media.
I hate that I’ve become a person on a pedestal to all my friends and family.
I’m not famous. I’m not remarkably rich. I sure as hell am still human.
Instead of doom scrolling, I get up and start making myself lunch. I’m starving, so I pull out leftover chicken from last night’s dinner and heat it up. I cook some greens and rice, mix a sauce, and scarf down the whole bowl.
I take a nap on my couch, then start on my schoolwork. I have a few assignments due on Monday.
See.
I’m normal.
I’m just a girl in college with a following, doing normal girl stuff.