Page 38 of Set on You

I gratefully take a sip, gaze wandering to the gym bros crowding the squat rack to cheer their buddy on. “So, have you forgiven me yet?”

He appraises me, tilting his head side to side, contemplating. “Nah, not yet. You got through those burpees too easily.”

I roll my eyes. “Would me begging for mercy and puking on your shoes be satisfactory?”

He doesn’t respond. He’s too busy looking out the window. “Hey, let’s get out of here.”

chapter fourteen

I BLINK. “WHY? ANDwhere?”

“Dunno.” Scott shrugs and stands. “But it’s a beautiful day out there and I don’t think we should waste it inside. I say we go for ice cream. On you, of course. Since you’re still groveling for my forgiveness and all.”

“Don’t you CrossFitters exclusively eat paleo?” I’m in shock, while trying to maintain the illusion that I’m a serene being. If buying Scott ice cream can earn his complete and total forgiveness, I’ll buy him all the flavors on the menu.

“Not me.” He shakes his head, giving me a curious once-over. “Do you not eat ice cream?”

“I’m lactose intolerant.”

He clutches his chest, as if I’ve told him I only have a month to live. “Wow. What did you do to deserve that?”

“I don’t know. But it seriously sucks.”

“Good thing I know a good place with sorbet. It’s down the street.”

I cast one last hesitant gaze to the door so as not to appear too eager.

Turns out, the quaint ice cream shop down the street is one of those places with a million flavors and toppings, as well as those artisanal chocolates. After agonizing over my decision for far too long, I settle on a tropical swirl sorbet, and Scott orders the same.

“Is this together or separate?” the monotone teenager wearing a T-shirt that readsDab Kingdrones from behind the counter.

“Together.” It feels weird saying it. It crosses my mind that the teenager probably thinks we’re a couple. I relish that thought for a few seconds too long before reality hits me in the face again. I’m not thinking about him in this way. We’re purely platonic gym nemeses turned acquaintances. Obviously.

“You know you could have ordered an actual ice cream, right?” I say as the teenager passes our sorbet dishes over the counter.

“I feel bad eating it in front of you. Wouldn’t want you to get secondhand cramps, or whatever happens to your stomach.” He tosses me a wink as I decline to take the receipt. Only he can make an indigestion joke remotely charming.

“That’s true. You don’t want to see me cranky.”

“Is that not your natural state?” he deadpans.

I bump him with my shoulder on the way out of the shop. I walk ahead a few paces, forcing my mouth into a neutral position. I’m smiling like a child at Disneyland and I refuse to let him see it. I’m enjoying non-hate-filled banter with him far more than he needs to know.

We make our way to the waterfront. The sun casts a glitterylayer on the surface of the water. There’s a sunset cruise boat docked ahead, just waiting to be boarded by tourists.

“Isn’t Albus lonely during the day when you’re at work and at the gym?” I ask, scooting over as a man walking a tiny terrier in pink boots scurries past us on the sidewalk. I wonder if Scott has boots for Albus Doodledore.

“Nah. My roommate, Trevor, and I work opposite shifts a lot. He’s at the same station as me, so he’s typically at the apartment when I’m not. He takes him for walks and stuff.”

“Sounds like a good friend.”

“When he’s not busting my balls over the Blackhawks, he’s a decent guy.”

I’m momentarily distracted by the sight of him licking sorbet off his spoon. “I don’t know if this acquaintanceship is going to work out. I just don’t trust Blackhawks fans.”

He points his spoon at me. “Hey, who says we’re acquaintances again? How do you know I’ve forgiven you?”

My stomach clenches. “Have you not forgiven me?”

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