Page 12 of Gym Bros
Sighing, I give him a questioning look.
He strokes my cheek, his fingertips grazing my hair. “I’m not trying to push you, I promise. But this face is too perfect to hide away. Will you think about what’s holding you back?”
I drop my gaze, remembering the last runway show I walked and getting the same sick drop in my stomach I got that day. Because it’s not like I don’t know. “Yeah,” I tell him.
“Because if there’s anything I can do…”
“You’re already doing it. Thanks for giving me something to do while I figure all this out.”
His thumb draws a line over my lips. It’s such a nice gesture, I want to give himsomething. “I’ll do ItalianVogue,” I say.
He looks shocked.
“But only if they can wait a few months. I want to do this thing with your kid first, and then…we can go to Europe if you want. I’ll take a few jobs.”
“Calyx. I swear to God, I wasn’t angling for this.”
“No, but money isn’t infinite, and I know I need to work. Just…give me?—”
“A few months. Absolutely.” He takes me by the neck and pulls our faces together for a soft, quick kiss. “Thank you.”
I smile. “Thankyou.”
He lets me go, gently setting my head back on the pillow. “Go back to sleep. Thanks for having me.”
“Thanks for putting up with me.”
“It’s a chore, but…” He plants one last kiss on my forehead and stands. I watch him grab his packed bag and leave the bedroom before I turn over in bed, congratulate myself for being a good client, and close my eyes again.
My phone wakes me up. It’s a series of texts from an unknown number.
Unknown
I have a follow up appointment tomorrow. If I’m cleared, I’m hoping we can get started Tuesday or Wednesday.
Unknown
My dad gave me your number. I’m interested in yoga.
Unknown
Or Pilates, whatever you think.
Unknown
Sorry, this is Saber. I’m Marcus Ray’s son. Recovering from a torn hamstring. Did he mention me to you?
The texts keep appearing before I have a chance to respond to any of them.
Unknown
Let’s start over.
I manage to get a word in, but it’s a quick one.
Me
Hey.
