20.
The drive to the workout should've felt exciting.
Bianca was in the passenger seat, half turned toward me as she talked about something that had happened at dinner with her cousins the night before, her hands moving every time she got to the ridiculous part.
I was listening—or at least trying to listen—but my mind kept slipping somewhere else entirely.
Back to Grant.
Back to the kitchen.
Back to the way he'd looked at me when I asked about Blair, calm on the surface but tighter underneath it.
Back to the way I'd left his house hours later even though nothing had gone wrong.
Since then, he'd been texting me just enough to make it worse—small, normal things.
A good morning. A how's your day going. A did you make it home okay.
I answered some of them. Left others sitting there too long.
Not because I didn't want to talk to him, but because I did, and that somehow made me feel terrible.
Bianca was still talking when my car screen lit up with a new notification.
Her voice stopped immediately.
Then her head turned.
"Grant?"
I didn't even have time to answer before she looked at me fully, her expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.
"Wait," she said slowly. "As in Dr. Lennox Grant?"
I made a face.
The kind that probably answered the question before I opened my mouth.
Bianca's jaw dropped.
"Since when?"
"It's a long story."
"Well, shit," she said, sinking back into the seat before immediately leaning toward me again. "Forget the workout class. I need the story now."
I spotted Reese's black BMW in the row ahead and started slowing into a parking spot.
"I'll tell you later."
Bianca let out a dramatic groan.
"Oh my God."
I glanced at her as I put the car in park.
"No word of this to Reese."
That earned me a look.
Bianca pressed one hand to her chest. "Ms. Olivia Pope doesn't know about you and Dr. Lennox?"
I pulled my seatbelt off and turned toward her fully.
"I'm serious."
She dragged the words out just to annoy me. "Okaaaay."
But she held both hands up in surrender, and that was enough for now.
We climbed out of the car into soft spring air, the kind that still held onto a little chill if the wind moved the right way. Reese was already standing outside her car by the time I called her name.
She looked good.
Reese had on a red two-piece workout set that made her skin look even deeper and richer in the sunlight, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. I'd kept it simple in a black long sleeve bodysuit because I unfortunately had a bruise on my arm that refused to heal like the others.
Reese walked over and hugged me first, then Bianca.
"I really need this class," she said, stepping back. "I was in Cura?ao eating whatever I wanted."
Bianca groaned immediately. "Ugh. I need a vacation."
Then she looked at me. "Did you go too?"
I opened my mouth, but Reese answered first.
"No. I went with my man."
That made me blink.
"Your man?" I repeated. "I thought you were cutting him off."
Reese lifted one shoulder, but there was something softer in her face than the last time she'd talked about him.
"I changed my mind. Honestly, the trip was really needed for our relationship. I was only hesitating because I needed some reassurance first."
Bianca and I exchanged a quick look before I smiled.
"Well, I'm happy you guys worked it out."
We started toward the building together.
"So when do I get to meet him?" I asked.
That made Reese go slightly still.
Not enough that someone who didn't know her would catch it.
But I did.
"I'm not sure," she said after a second. "Our relationship works better private."
The answer sat with me longer than it should've.
Not because I thought she was lying. Just because there was something strange about it.
But before I could think too hard about that, we were inside, checking in, and a minute later the class started.
For the next hour I let the music do what it always did—turn my brain off just enough to keep me from sitting in myself too hard.
The room was hot, mirrored wall to mirrored wall, filled with women in coordinated sets and slick ponytails and expensive water bottles, all of us moving like we were enjoying it when secretly we'd rather be anywhere else.
By the time class ended, Bianca looked like she regretted every life choice that had led her there.
She was bent over slightly, hands on her knees, catching her breath while Reese wiped down her mat and I reached for my bottle.
"That class absolutely whooped me," Bianca muttered. Then she straightened a little and looked between us. "I saw there's a café nearby that has Erewhon smoothies dupes. Should we go?"
"I'm down," I said immediately.
Then I looked at Reese.
She was already making a face.
"Naomi and I usually do two classes," she said. "The next one starts in like ten minutes."
Bianca stared at us.
"You guys do two?"
She let out a short laugh.
"Is there a war you're gearing up for that I don't know about?"
I smiled at that, but Reese didn't.
Her expression stayed flat, and suddenly the air between us shifted.
"We're serious about staying in shape," she said. "And our long-term health."
Bianca's brows lifted a little. The look on her face said exactly what mine probably did.
"What are you trying to say?" Bianca said puzzled.
I glanced at Reese, waiting for the joke to land or the tension to ease.
It didn't.
So I stepped in before Bianca could again.
"I think we can skip one extra class today, Reese. It's just one. Bianca's all the way here from Cali."
She looked at me then.
Really looked at me.
And when she spoke again, her tone was quieter, but somehow sharper.
"How do you think Rodney would feel about that?"
The words hit me so quickly I almost didn't process them. "Excuse me?"
Then she kept going.
"Didn't you say Taylor told you your hips went up an inch?" she asked. "You have an image to uphold."
For a second I just stared at her searching for a response.
Bianca got there before I did. "Who gives a fuck how Rodney feels?"
Reese took a small step back, hands lifting slightly like she was already preparing to defend herself.
"I'm just saying," she said. "Not only as your friend, but as someone who works in your world. Image is everything. Bianca, I know you won't understand that, but Naomi's not taking that seriously enough."
The room had mostly emptied by then, but it suddenly felt like everyone could hear us.
My face burned.
Not just from what she said.
From the fact that it sounded too close to something Rodney would say.
To something Taylor would say.
To something I hated that a small, ugly part of me had already thought alone in a mirror.
Reese slung her bag over her shoulder.
"I'll see you girls tonight."
And then she walked away.
Bianca watched her go for exactly two seconds before turning back to me with an expression that looked halfway between disbelief and disgust.
"She cannot be serious."
I exhaled hard through my nose and grabbed my things.
"Can we just go to the car?"
We didn't say much until the doors closed behind us.
Then Bianca turned toward me fully.
"How would Rodney feel about that?" she repeated. "Is she fucking crazy?"
I stared out the windshield for a second before starting the car.
"I don't know what that was."
"Since when is she team Rodney?"
I didn't have an answer for that.
The drive to the café was quieter than the one there. Bianca kept glancing at me like she wanted to keep going, but I think she could tell I was trying not to fold into myself.
The place was nearly empty when we walked in.
Bianca stepped up to the counter first while I stood off to the side, scanning the board.
Six hundred fifty calories for a smoothie.
Four hundred forty for another one.
Five hundred for some breakfast bowl.
By the time it was my turn, I'd already talked myself out of everything.
"Hot tea," I said finally. "And a fruit salad."
The girl at the register blinked, then smiled.
"Oh my God. You're Naomi Housner."
There it was.
I smiled automatically.
"Hi."
"Can we take a picture?"
"Sure."
So I stood there beneath the too-bright café lights and posed while she held her phone up, my smile fixed and polished and practiced even though my stomach still felt twisted from ten minutes earlier.
By the time I got to the table in the corner, Bianca was already waiting for me with a look on her face that said she'd been holding in questions for at least fifteen minutes.
"I feel like there's so much going on that I don't know about."
I wrapped both hands around the tea cup, letting the warmth settle into my palms.
"There is."
Bianca leaned back.
"So spill."
I did.
I told her about Rodney. About the events.
About Taylor and the measurements and the way every inch of my body seemed to belong more to his image than to me.
Bianca interrupted exactly where she was supposed to—cursing, reacting, shaking her head, saying the things I didn't have the energy to say myself.
Then eventually, because I knew she was waiting for it, she lowered her voice and leaned across the table.
"What about Grant?"
My eyes dropped to the tea for a second.
Then I lowered my voice too.
I told her enough for her to understand that this had gone way past flirting and stolen glances and emotionally reckless choices I could still pretend didn't matter.
By the time I finished, Bianca looked halfway scandalized and halfway thrilled.
"You stayed with him while Rodney was out of town?"
I made a face.
"Yes."
Her hand flew to her chest.
"And have you guys..." She trailed off, then widened her eyes. "Done anything?"
I covered part of my face with one hand immediately, which makes a squeal leave Bianca.
"It's not what you think," I say quickly. "We haven't—you know."
That made her squeal again.
"Oh my God, so you've done stuff, just not stuff."
I groaned.
"He's done stuff. I have not."
Bianca slaps the table. "No way."
I was laughing now, embarrassed enough that I couldn't look at her.