14. Will
Chapter fourteen
Will
“Hey dude.” Matt has his shower towel thrown over his shoulder, and he’s cramming the clothes he changed out of into his gym bag.
I glance up from my phone. I’m still reading the message Mia sent me last night. Since our trip, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. Today in a meeting, I said her name, rather than my client’s name.
“Hey, man.” I slide my bag off my shoulder onto the bench next to him, then sit with a thump to finish my message, ignoring Matt’s judgmental look. Matt and I have finally managed to line up our schedules to get some lifting in this morning.
At the moment, my entire life revolves around reading messages from Mia, composing messages to her, or waiting around like a lovesick schoolboy for her to message me back. Pathetic? Maybe.
Mercifully he stays quiet. A minute later, I switch the screen off and stand.
“So, what’s on the agenda this morning?” I ask. Matt looks pissed that I’ve been so distracted. I always try to make a real effort to put my phone away while we’re together, try to spend quality time with him instead of focusing on other stuff.
“Sorry, man, I didn’t want to interrupt your messaging.” His tone is sharp.
I pull out my shorts and t-shirt, unbuttoning my shirt. “It was Mia. She needed some advice.”
“Advice, right.” Matt sounds dubious as he turns to zip up his bag. “Well, fill me in when you get out there, yeah? I’m gonna go warm up, then do shoulders and back.”
He picks up his stuff and heads toward the lockers.
I pull off my shirt, rolling my tight shoulders back. Shoulders are going to suck today if I’m this sore already. But today, I have bigger things to worry about. Mia kissed me. There was no doubt about who was first this time. She had walked into my room. She had approached me. Then, when I tried to talk about it, she changed the subject.
I smooth my t-shirt over my stomach, trying to ignore the softness I feel from slacking at the gym these last couple of weeks.
Twenty minutes later, my treadmill slows to a stop, and I grab the cleaning spray off Matt, who had finished a couple of minutes before me.
“So, what does Mia need help with?”
I finish wiping down the treadmill, dumping the cleaner spray in its little cubby, then turn back to Matt.
“A work thing. No big deal.” I swipe my arm across my forehead, ignoring the sweat dripping from my elbow.
“Gross, dude, you have a towel.”
“Oh. Yeah.” I wipe my head, then my arm with the towel.
Matt looks at me with an unreadable expression. “There’s something going on. I know it.”
I laugh. “You sound like Chloe when you say stuff like that.”
I push thoughts of Mia out of my head. If I’m honest with myself, since that night in France, I’ve been messed up . If I was waiting for her to make the first move, holy shit did she make the first move. But then she left. Not even so much as a thank you or see you later, just an ‘I should go’, then she left. And when I’d gotten up early to try to talk to her about it over breakfast, she was chirpy and acted as if nothing even fucking happened. As if everything was normal.
I know she’s got a lot going on at the moment, but if that’s the case, why reach out and kiss me? She could have just done nothing, instead of leaving me wondering like this.
I deflect. “I mean, yeah. Shit’s going on with her. Her brother isn’t doing well. And inheriting some money—it’s weird for her, you know?” I squirt water into my mouth from my gym-branded water bottle. Now Mia’s told the others she inherited money from her birth family (not the scale of it, but they know something, at least) I feel like I can mention it.
“What, now you’re worried about how to date someone so far out of your league?” Matt taps his nose and I roll my eyes at him.
“Yes, exactly right. If you’re going to be a dick, I’m doing the first set, then.”
I think about what he said as I lift. Maybe Matt is on to something. It has been weird, especially when Mia shouted our trip to France, and then she bought the business class tickets when we visited Craig. What would it be like to date someone with such different financial pressures to me? Here’s Mia, worried about whether this Bryce bloke is messing up the resorts she owns, and then there’s me, proud of my few hundred quid of air-miles.
I like to imagine I’m a modern guy, and I don’t care about a partner earning more than me—and maybe that’s true, when it comes to normal earnings. This is different, though. Mia’s net worth is so far out of the realms of regular earnings. Nothing I could ever earn, even if I won the lottery five times over, could get me even touching what she’s worth.
I’ve spent time Googling Starlight Resorts. It’s massive . And as well as the resorts, she inherited some cash, too. I wasn’t sure how much, but it’s hardly going to be a few thousand pounds.
If Mia and I did start a relationship, how would it feel when things were so uneven? I know she’d try to make things feel even, but will it ever be okay to me? Could it feel okay?
It makes sense that Mia wants to pretend everything is normal between us. If even I’m feeling overwhelmed by her news, and it’s not my money or my life, I can’t begin to imagine how she must feel.
I raise the bar, pulling my shoulder blades toward my spine. In her position, I’d probably want stability too. Stability is probably the best thing I can do for her right now.
I lower the bar back to the rack. Alright, dickhead , I tell myself. No more pining. Be the friend she needs right now. I’ll have to ignore the memory of her in my arms, her lips on mine, her hair brushing my neck as she leaned in close. I have to get it the fuck together.