Page 139 of Gym Bros
“Iknow. That’s why I think it’s best that everyone just puts the past in the past.”
Rachel gives me a look like she knows something I don’t. “You forget I’veseenyou with Marcus.”
I scowl. “What does that mean?”
“It means he looks at you a little bit like Samuel does.”
I stop dancing. “No. He doesn’t.” I know from the bottom of my heart that’s not true because no one looks at me like Samuel does. Maybe he’s got his dad’s eyes, but the resemblance ends there—at the physical. Samuel’s gaze is the polar opposite of Marcus’s. Marcus may want me here and there from time to time, but Samuel—he—helovesme. I’m ninety-nine percent sure of it. He’s just trying to make me say it first, but when I don’t, he’ll come out with it eventually. Maybe even tonight. He’s so close.
I walk off the dance floor, but Rachel’s not far behind me. She stands next to me at the bar while I order another drink. “Well, on the off chance it gets out, I think it’d be better if he heard it from you.”
“Why?” I ask tensely.
“Because you can ease him into it. Explain it. Tell him whatever you need to say to make it less weird.”
I shake my head. I think about this literally every day. Since I kissed Samuel on his birthday, this is an ongoing conversation I have with myself. My conscience and I have both come to the logical conclusion that what Samuel doesn’t know can’t hurt him.
And there’s no way in hell Marcus would want it out in the open either since apparently he’s gone to great lengths to hide his infidelity from his family to the point of outright lying about it. Samuel wouldn’t be surprised his father isn’t faithful, but he wouldn’t like it. Also, it’s one thing to know it happens—another to know who precisely it happenswith. That it’s happened withme? I shake my head.
Everybody has secrets. At first, I thought I wouldn’t be able to get past it and really give myself to Samuel, but I fell for him like I’ve never fallen in my life. Marcus is totally in the past aside from the occasional email or text, all but two of which were totally professional. I haven’t even seen him since he asked me to teach Sam yoga.
And who knows? I might decide to quit modeling altogether. I don’t know what the fuck else I’d do besides leverage my social media following, but I wouldn’t need a manager for that. I’m not ready to think that far ahead yet, though. I want to see how the trip to Europe goes first. If it’s awful, then I’ll be forced to consider my options. But it might be fine.
For now, I’ve got enough stress worrying about Samuel getting hurt to add to it by inflicting my own brand of damage by telling him about my past with his dad. “It would only hurt him,” I say.
“So, in terms of a future, you don’t foresee a time when he might want to bring you home to meet the parents?”
She’s acting like she’s the first person to think of this when I’ve literally played through every possible scenario in my mind. “I have a plan for when that happens.”
I’ve had to, because I think I’m dangerously close to being invited to Thanksgiving. We’ve settled Christmas, but once Samuel’s made it out of his fight alive, he’ll realize what season we’re actually in, I’ll let him know I’ll be in London for the first two weeks of December, and he won’t be worried about what I’m doing while I’m there.
I’ve casually asked him whether he’s told his parents about me—us—and he said he hasn’t. His actual words were, “No, my dad gets weird when it comes to you. He’ll think I’m distracting you from your true purpose or something.”
When I asked if we’d be keeping the secret forever, he’d laughed and said no. And then he cracked some stupid joke-not-joke about how I had to prove I was serious about him first.
I try to do that by doing things like offering to cover up his black eye with concealer and makeup, but of course he told me that was weak and wouldn’t let me. I swear he’s proud of it—the same way I am when I achieve a perfect cat eye.
“What’s the plan, then?” Rachel presses.
Not that she has any right to know, but I tell her anyway. “I’ll talk to Marcus first.”
“You don’t think he’ll be pissed?”
“I don’t care whether he’s pissed. It’s not really his business.”
“I mean—that’s his baby boy.”
I shut my eyes and try to gather my breath. The buzz of alcohol makes me sway slightly. Maybe I’ll just sip this next drink. “Exactly,” I say. “And neither one of us would want to see him get hurt.”
“If you say so.”
“Look, I know this is hard to believe, but I do think about this,” I tell her. “It’s why I tried not to get involved in the first place, but as I recall, you’re the one who pushed me into it.”
“I mean, I didn’t hold your head on his cock.”
“Bitch,” I mutter.
“I think you’re missing my point anyway,” she says. “I love seeing you this happy. Like—it’s amazing. And I love Sam, too, andhe’sso happy. That’s why this secret needs to get out of the way of things. I want this to work for both of you.”
