Page 17 of Kiss-Fist
I’m a doctor of ancient history. I know how these things end. It’s a tale as old as time. I’ll probably end up stabbed through the heart or impaled on the end of a pole.
And not the dick kind either.
I won’t do this. I will not message him.
I refuse.
CHAPTER FOUR
THOM
“Yo! Tea-bag!”
I was in the middle of heading to a stack of weights that had fallen over, and the sound of Kyle’s voice makes me trip over my feet. I catch myself on the wall before I eat shit on the rough gym floor, and one person across the room applauds.
Most of the people here are regulars, and they know I’m clumsy as shit unless I’m hyperfocused. Which, today, I’m not. I’m too busy in my head thinking about hot Deaf guys with tiny biceps.
“Hello?” Kyle says, louder this time. “Earth to Thom. Need another dose of Adderall, man?”
I don’t turn around. Kyle is that douche bag wannabe jock who peaked in high school…except he wasn’t cool in high school either. He just thought he was, and now he’s regurgitating the same jokes that weren’t funny ten years ago. We shouldn’t have hired him, but Dex—my younger brother—had put in a good word, so who was I to disagree.
I mean, we co-own this place together. He has just as much right to make hiring decisions as I do. Even if I am older.
“Did you hear me?”
Yes, Kyle. I did hear you. But you’re annoying, so I’m ignoring you.
I shake my opaque blue bottle full of sweet, sweet protein goodness and arch my back to work out a few of the kinks I’ve gotten from getting older. I’m not a spring chicken anymore. I’m starting to get aches now.Andpains. I may even have to start doing yoga.
“Thom!”
I paste on my most friendly customer service smile as I spin slowly and raise a brow at Kyle, who looks irritated. Beside him is a nervous guy who, in other circumstances, would be disgustingly good-looking, but right now, it seems like he just went six rounds with an angry baby elephant. He’s got a bruise on his jaw, a swollen shiner covering his left eye, and a split lip.
There are also little cuts all over his arms and neck.
What the fuck did this guy get into? Does he do underground cage fighting in his free time?
“Client,” Kyle says.
Ah, so he’s one-wording me now as though that’s supposed to make me feel bad about ignoring him. Sauntering to the counter, I turn my back on Kyle and prop my hip against it, swiping my hand over my mouth to make sure I don’t have a protein shake mustache. It’s happened before,and I don’t embarrass that easily, but I don’t enjoy looking like a messy toddler either.
“I’m Thom.” I extend my free hand, and he takes it gingerly.
“Leaf. And yes, I know, the name is different. My parents are really into plants.”
Kyle snorts and makes the gesture for smoking weed.
I ignore him.
So does Leaf.
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to ask. It’s nice to meet you.”
He nods and eyes Kyle for a second, his face very clearly sharing my irritation at him. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Depends,” I say with my most friendly wink. “I’m off in ten minutes, and I really can’t afford to stay late, so if you’re looking for a session today?—”
His grimace cuts me off. “Uh, nah, not tonight. But Kevin?—”
