Page 13 of Ryder: Shadows and Desires
Right before Jeremy left us, Luke made an official declaration of affection for me, one that I had to reject based on the ruined state of my heart. Jeremy was still alive when Luke first entered the gym, my brother mentioning he’d kick the new guy out if Luke’s flirtatious approach was too strong.
I had initially found Luke charming and told Jeremy not to worry, but that was also before a maelstrom of mourning ripped apart my heart.
Would Jeremy approve if I liked Luke?
Did that even matter anymore?
“I’m alright. Just been thinking about stuff.” I place my phone down. “About Warlord, and what it’d be like if we actually traveled for it. I’m also meeting up with someone tonight too, which is long needed.”
Luke snickers, his eyes warm and competitive. “Who you meeting?”
My lips spread into a genuine smile before I can stop them, and a part of me punches myself for not giving this man more of a shot, despite not feeling “it” with him—I can’t explain it. I definitely like him, but I’m not ready to jump his bones the second he asks. Maybe that’s from grief?
“I miss hanging out with Tiff, Jeremy’s girlfriend. She and I are getting back together.”
Luke leans back in his chair, relaxing his gaze. “Yeah, I think that’s a great idea for you. You’ve been all work, no play, lately. I mean, makes sense with Ryder. But still. We all need a break.” He sighs, tapping his water bottle. “You and I could always get some drinks, you know.”
My attention migrates to the table. I can’t deny that there’s some sort of comfort in his presence, and he’s a handsome guy with a body to match.
“Yeah, we could,” I reply, not able to find a solid reason to say “no.”
Honestly, I don’t think I have it in me to sort out my mess of a heart or if I ever truly will. Maybe I just need to give in—
Andrew smacks the doorframe to announce his presence, merely glancing my way before he tapes up a handmade flyer.
“You finally hosting a cookout?” Luke asks.
“Yup.” Andrew slides his hand over the last piece of applied tape. “Enough chitchat, Jones. Pad up so Luck can throw some punches.”
Luke sighs and flashes a grin at me, and I return the gesture before watching him walk away. And like a whirlpool, I spiral in circles around Luke, unable to rescue myself. He’s comfortable, and he knew my brother, even if they were never close.
It feels important to keep people in my life that knew Jeremy.
When the two men leave, I near the flyer:
“Sorry for missing last month. Y’all know I have been busy. Saturday, August 29, we are grilling out! If you’re in Warlord training, then the following day, we are doing nothing but cardio.”
I play with the black hair tie on my wrist, wishing the cookout was going to be a family event. Some of the guys have girlfriends that I always get along with; without them, the cookouts are quite the sausage fest.
In that, I encounter a novel feeling of wanting to skip this time.
Slowly but surely, even with all the excitement of the last two weeks, the gym is feeling less like home to me.
* * *
After my break, I return to work and wheel my computer around, observing everyone, jotting down notes. Wes—the other sports therapist—is also on his rounds, preparing to take over for whenever the tournament steals me away.
The area is loud with grunts, music, and the guys pumping each other up. I’m sure it smells terribly like sweat, but if it does, I’m immune to such a stench by now.
I make my way over to Andrew and Ryder, leaving my computer against a wall, rocking back and forth on my heels, feeling like I’m on memory foam with these new shoes I’ve bought.
Perspiration soaks Ryder’s hooded sweatshirt and sweatpants. The fighter uses Andrew like a punching bag, his body exploding with momentum in the blink of an eye. He throws a punch into Andrew’s padded hand, wincing this time.
I walk in. “What is it?”
“Shoulder,” Ryder growls through a pant.
“Can I?” I ask, motioning to his arm.
