Page 120 of Gym Bros
“Beck Cole. You can look up a few of his recent fights, and he posts sparring videos, too. He’s got no grappling game, and I think his coaches want him to learn a lesson.” Javier shrugs. “Part of the process.”
“I get it,” I say, ready to start watching Cole’s film and training right this second.
“I was glad to hear about your leg. I wanted this fight for you, kid. You’ve more than earned it.”
I try to keep a straight face, but it’s a struggle not to burst into a huge smile. My dad’s thumbs up and now this? There’s only one other thing that could make this day any better. Once I leave Javier’s office, I FaceTime him.
Calyx answers looking beyond gorgeous—more so than usual. I’m almost pissed because why does he look so pretty when I’m not there? “What are you doing?” I ask, and yeah, it sounds a little suspicious.
“I just got a haircut and highlights. What areyoudoing?”
Okay. Highlights. That makes sense. “You look incredible,” I tell him.
He scrunches his nose and smiles. “Shut up. Thank you.”
“Hey, what’s your favorite food?” I ask.
“Um…” He purses his lips and sits down on his couch. “Raw oysters.”
My mind is immediately jerked away from thoughts of mauling him on that couch. “Gross. Really?”
He bursts out laughing. “Yes. What’s yours? Let me guess. Meatloaf?”
“Fuck you. It’s spaghetti but only the way my mom makes it.”
He laughs even harder. “What does she do to make it so special?”
“She uses the best sauce.”
“Wait—uses? She doesn’t make her own?”
“We’re not Italian,” I inform him like this fact should be obvious.
His smile is cool but amused. “So, you’re telling me I could call your mom, ask her what the right brand of sauce is, and make your favorite meal in my very own kitchen in less than thirty minutes?”
“You can cook spaghetti?” I ask.
He laughs. “You like my eggs, don’t you?”
I do like his eggs. I also like watching him cook them.
“I’ll give you her number.”
When he stops laughing, which is abrupt, he asks, “Why do you want to know my favorite food?”
“I want to take you to dinner tonight.Beforethe movie. Instead of yoga.”
“Instead of yoga? Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“Just this once.”
“Where are you taking me?”
I have no idea, but I’ll take that as a yes. “Don’t worry about that. Just dress nice.”
“I can’t look like a slob tonight either?”
I smile at him—at his bright eyes and smirking, glossy lips. “Do your best.”
