Page 63 of Hits Different

I watch as he peels his shirt off and tucks it into the waistband of his shorts. “How do I look now?”

Bastard. And as if I wouldn’t recognise a classic Artful Dodger diversion attempt when I see one. “Like someone who isn’t taking their rehab seriously enough”. He doesn’t answer. “How’s it going, anyway? You’re meant to get a progress report after a couple of weeks”.

I watch, as he brushes his hands to the back of his head. It’s kind of cute. Cute. Another new word added to my Brandon-only vocabulary. “I did. Everything’s fine. Just gotta keep grinding”.

“Really?”

“I’m a medical marvel, what can I tell you? Besides”, his voice takes on a playful tone, “We’ve been distracted by other things, remember?”

If only you knew how much I really remember.I’m going to have to tell him the truth at some point. I know it. But not today. “Sounds like we should be doing some celebrating”.

“Special Contribution to liver annihilation goes to…”

I ignore him. “I have a few things to do this afternoon, but maybe we could hook up for a drink later. I’ve got some news too, actually”, I turn over Zara’s business card in my fingers. I made the call earlier and Simon had been as good as his word. Zara didn’t hesitate to invite me down for a trial with her team.

Then she asked me if Simon was seeing anyone.

There’s a long pause. Did I just ask Brandon out on a date? And should I read anything into the fact that he didn’t instantly say yes?

“Everything okay over there?” I narrow my eyes, willing the distance between us to close.

“I’m always down to hang out. Maybe we go alcohol-free?”

“Sure”. I run my fingers through my hair. “Any particular reason?”

“I just think we’re less likely to get into trouble if we keep things low key”, Brandon says. “I’m training, so I shouldn’t be drinking anyway. And you could do with being a fight-free zone for a while”.

I tuck Zara’s card into my back pocket. Another time.

“I’ll make you a deal”. I sense an opportunity. “I’ll keep my fists to myself, if you promise to take it easy with your rehab”.

“Deal”, his relief is obvious. “So, what’s your day looking like?”

Going for a try out at an MMA gym seconds after I promised no more fighting.

“Just some errands. Nothing special”.

A weird silence falls between us. It’s not like I haven’t had my fair share of awkward morning-after conversations. But with Brandon, it’s different. He’s my friend. We don’tdoawkward silences.

A wave of insecurity runs through me. I may not be an expert, but I’d guess that these one-sided jerk off sessions aren’t exactly substantial compared to what he’s used to doing in the bedroom.

What if I’m not living up to his expectations?

“How about a coffee later?”

“Sure”, I nod vigorously, even though he can’t see me. “To talk?”

“No, to drink, dumbass”. Okay, that’s more like it.

“Perfect. Remember our deal, okay? I might not be a coach, but even I can see you’re dialled up to 100 out there”.

“I don’t think coaches jerk off at their window whilst their clients are training”. I slam the curtains closed. A burst of laughter down the phone. “I knew it”.

“Bastard”. I laugh, as my heartrate returns to normal, “You know me too well”.

“Maybe. Maybe I just know how good I look with my shirt off. Even from a distance”.

“Not so bad close up, either”.

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