Chapter Seventeen
Belle
If I don’t forgive Jesse, I’m going to gain twenty pounds.
I decide this yesterday, when he walked into my office with my favorite sub—an Italian with extra red wine vinaigrette—and a small bag of second favorite chips, because the first choice apparently wasn’t an option.
The day before that was a sugary drink from Dunkin, the day before that was a bag of pastries, and the day before that was a greasy but delicious breakfast sandwich.
Even though I never outwardly told him I’m still mad about that night at Delmar’s, he’s going out of his way to still make up for it. I swear I’ve gained five pounds consuming his apology gifts, even after I told him he didn’t need to buy me anything.
He still does.
Every. Single. Day.
Am I still a little bit miffed about the situation? Yes. But not enough to hold this over Jesse’s head. Our situation is complicated, and not even I know what we can do to make it better.
Between the elephant in the room with us and my upcoming meeting that’s less than twenty-four-hours away, my mind is a race of messy thoughts.
I struggled to sleep last night thinking about the possibility of the planning board shitting all over my sketches or telling me I didn’t fill the paperwork out right.
Anxiety has always been a significant part of the process whenever I go after anything, living just under the surface to be a constant pestering issue without it totally derailing me from going through with it.
Anxiety is the reason I wind up in the home gym walking on the treadmill with my headphones on listening to my newest audiobook download.
It’s almost six o’clock at night, and I’m too strung up and antsy to sit still.
I figure if I can’t sit around and relax, I may as well counteract all the calories Jesse has been feeding.
I’ve been walking for forty-five minutes on a four and a half incline when Jesse walks in. And because he’s obviously not expecting to see me of all people utilizing the gym, he does a double take before gaping at me. It’s a little offensive he’s so surprised, but I try not dwelling on it.
I pause my book and lower my headphones to rest around my neck. “Hey.”
He stares at the two-piece workout set I forgot I owned because I don’t exercise enough to know what kind of athleticwear I have.
The subtle leopard print pattern is on both the shorts and the crop top that has a built-in bra.
The outfit doesn’t expose too much skin or make me feel like I’m drowning in sweat unlike some of the clothes I used to work out in.
I’m not sure why he’s looking at me like I’m walking butt naked, so I do a cursory look down at myself to make sure my shorts haven’t ridden up. There have been one too many athletic shorts in the past that rolled up and gave me uncomfortable wedgies or unfortunate camel toe.
“What?” I ask, frowning.
He shakes his head, snapping out of whatever thought he had. “Nothing. I didn’t realize you were in here.”
Has it been that long since I’ve worked out with him? I’ve been in here plenty of times. Although, it’s usually to give him chocolate and tell him whatever piece of gossip or update I couldn’t wait to share.
Damn. It has been a while.
I nervously brush a palm over my thigh. “Is that okay? You usually don’t use it until late at night. I can—”
He looks like he’s been hit. “What? No. You don’t need to go anywhere.” He scrapes a hand down his face. “Sorry. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t expecting you in here. I checked your office and thought maybe you were hanging out in your room.”
Because that’s where I’ve been choosing to avoid him lately. I really need to stop being petty.
His eyes go back to my body, his throat bobbing. “You look good, Bells.”
My hand instinctively goes to my midriff exposed by the crop top. It isn’t an outfit I go out in public with. I’m not that self-conscious, but enough to know that I’d get a few unwanted stares if my tummy rolls were exposed.
“I had to work off the calories you’ve been feeding me,” I joke. “This is the second day in a row I’ve come in here. You should be proud.”
I’d heard him come home yesterday and spend his usual two hours in here, but I didn’t bother him. I simply waited until he was in the shower before I came down to use some of the weights before remembering just how much I hated lifting. Walking is where it’s at for me.
His gaze narrows slightly. “Why do you do that?” He gestures to my hand on my stomach with his chin. “Why are you hiding?”
Instantly, I drop my arm. “I’m not.”
He gives me that ‘don’t bullshit me’ look.
I blow out a breath. “Everybody has things they don’t love about themselves. Don’t look at me like that! Remember when we were in high school, and you told me you didn’t like the shape of your nose because you thought it looked too wide?”
Jesse’s lips flatten as if he’d forgotten about his self-consciousness over it. Whoops.
“Anyway,” I drawl out, “I always said it was fine, but you didn’t believe me.
Well, that’s how I feel about my stomach right now.
And it doesn’t help that I’m bloated. That always makes me feel worse about it.
I know I carry most of my weight in my tummy and upper thighs.
But I also know I can shed a few pounds if I tried, which is what I’m doing. ”
His eyebrow twitches as he gives me a onceover that’s a little too thorough. “You don’t need to lose any weight.”
I roll my eyes. Of course he’d say that. “I do, but I appreciate you for saying that. Look, I’m not fishing for compliments. You don’t need to tell me that I look good or list any of my better qualities. I’m good with myself. I just need to make a few tweaks, that’s all.”
When he doesn’t say anything, I sigh. Why is he so stubborn?
“Consider yourself lucky,” I go on because I don’t always know when to shut up. “You basically got a free nose job. Not that I think you needed one anyway.”
His slow blink is followed by a stint of silence as he sets his protein shake down onto the windowsill. “I got my nose broken. Not sure that constitutes as ‘lucky’.”
I lift a shoulder. “Okay, poor use of the word. But you’ve never mentioned your nose since you had surgery done to fix it.”
The bump in it is gone, looking like any other straight nose.
It’s cute as far as noses go, I guess. I kind of miss his old one though.
Is that weird? I brush off the thought. “In hindsight, I could probably have surgery too. But then I’d have to form healthy habits to keep the weight off, and I don’t know if I have the energy to eat as much kale as you do. ”
Why is he glaring at me? He likes kale. I’ve seen him put it in his smoothies and bake them into chips. It’s disgusting. “You’re not getting surgery.”
“Duh. I just said that.”
“You don’t need it,” he emphasizes.
I can’t help but laugh at the offense on his face, like I told him I was going to get boobs the size of Dolly Parton’s or something. “I know, Jesse. Why are you getting so worked up?”
He shakes his head, scraping a hand through his hair and grumbling something I can’t hear under his breath. “It doesn’t matter. How much longer do you have on that?”
I glance at the timer on the machine. “Ten minutes. I only do an hour. Then I have to jump in the shower and do a few other things to prep for my meeting.”
Lines form between his brows. “Your meet—oh shit. The planning board. That’s tomorrow?”
He forgot. That’s okay. It’s totally okay if he can’t make it.
It isn’t his problem anyway. It’s my business and my responsibility.
“Yep,” I say as casually as possible even though I’m nervous as hell.
“I’m as ready as I can be. But you know how I get with public speaking.
They’re only going to ask me a couple questions, but it’s still nerve-wracking. ”
Jesse’s shoulders slump and a wave of defeat as a crestfallen expression enter his features. “I thought it was next week.”
I rub my lips together, focusing on the machine for a second to hide my disappointment.
I’ve told him plenty of times, but he’s busy.
I can’t fault him for not remembering when he’s got a million things going on in his life.
And we haven’t been talking as much as normal, so it’s kind of on me not reminding him. “That’s okay.”
“It isn’t.”
When I peak at him, he’s shaking his head. “I can come. I will come.”
Warmth wraps around my heart at his determination. “Jesse—”
“I’ll be there,” he promises, nodding and starting his usual stretching warmups. “Just send me the address again and I’ll make it work.”
Knowing there’s no point in arguing when he gets like this, I nod.
I’m grateful for him. No matter how many bickering matches we get into, we always find a way to get past it.
This wouldn’t be the first time he’s annoyed me and made up for it, and I’m sure I’ve gotten on his nerves a time or five too.
The next ten minutes go by quickly, and it isn’t until I’m powering down the treadmill and watching him do his weight training exercises when I say, “I forgive you, so you don’t need to keep bringing me stuff.
I got over it after the first day. I would appreciate it if you didn’t crash anymore dates in the future, though. Deal?”
Slowly, Jesse stops doing his bicep curls and reracks the weights.
His eyes flicker up at me through the giant mirror on the wall and he watches me step off the treadmill and come over to him.
I hold out my hand, but I don’t offer it to shake.
I stick my pinky out like we used to do in the past. How long ago had we made our last pinky promise? It’s been years.
He stares down at my small finger as if he doesn’t know what I’m trying to do. I jab him with it and smile when those dark eyes find mine through his enviously long lashes.
“Deal?” I repeat, wiggling my pinky. “Come on. You aren’t really going to leave me hanging, are you?”