Page 10 of Crazy Love

“My story is a downer,” I say.

Hazel fishes the glass out of my hand. “Or is it uplifting because you came out of it?”

A comfortable silence settles between us as I mull over her words. Is she right? I’ve spent the last few years learning to own my mistakes, but it doesn’t mean there aren’t times when thinking about them makes me want to vomit. Especially when there’s a beautiful, intimidating woman involved.

“Stop overthinking. It’ll give you wrinkles.” Hazel raises her hand and rubs against the frown lines between my eyes. “Trust me. I’ve got hundreds of them.”

As she heads back out of the room and leaves me alone with my thoughts, I play out different scenarios in my mind. Different scenarios on how to talk to Kali about something serious. How to explain to Kali the darkest and most shameful parts of my past.

And wondering why the hell I want to spill my secrets to a woman I barely know.

5

KALI

“I am screwed.”

Weird Michelle had told the truth. When I walked into the gym on Monday morning, there were strangers standing in the foyer, as well as security, advising all contractors they had ten minutes to collect their belongings and vacate the gym. We weren’t even allowed to talk to any members.

“No, you’re not,” Hazel scolds me.

“I’m a twenty-eight-year-old woman with no job, which means no income to pay rent, buy food or get coffee.”

Hazel soothes my arm. “You’ve got this, Kali. You’ve got qualifications and we live in the fitness hub of the entire state. Everybody here is constantly looking for instructors.”

“Youdoremember how long it took me to find a studio that didn’t suck, right?”

Hazel winces. Oh, she remembers. It took years of hopping around different gyms, studios and bootcamps, trying to find one that had consistent clientele, flexible hours and a manager who wasn’t an arrogant prick. Andrew’s a money-grabbing weasel, but at least he’s fair. I wouldn’t know where to even start a new search.

“Let’s look at this logically and in a non-dramatic way,” Hazel says, shifting to sit on the coffee table in front of me.

“How dare you insinuate I’m dramatic.”

Hazel ignores me. “First, you’ve got me. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. Even if we have to split my income and survive off instant noodles. We’ve done it before; we can do it again.”

I laugh at the fond memory of us living in a tiny studio apartment ten years ago, cracking open money tins and desperately scraping together any amount of coin to get us through another week.

“Number two,” Hazel continues. “You’ve got your shit together. You have savings which will tide you over and … you know.”

My eyes shift to look at her serious expression and I frown. “What?”

“You have a buttload of cash sitting there, Kali.”

I groan. “You sound like Mimi.”

“That is one of the highest compliments you could pay me,” Hazel replies. “If you got over yourself, you could take some time off and not work for a while.”

“Get over myself?” I gasp. “That hurts.”

“I’m serious, Kali.”

“Maybe I could beg for my job back,” I mutter. “Convince the new owners I’d be an asset.”

“We both know that’s not an option. You’re too good to grovel.”

“Excellent point,” I agreed. “What I should do is open my own studio and run those peanuts out of business.”

Hazel perks up. “You could do that.”

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