Page 65 of Gym Bros
“Sounds like you, though, doesn’t it? You said you wanted him to ‘know you.’”
Sadly, it does sound like me. “I don’t think that’s what I said,” I mumble. Still, I send the message before I can think better of it.
“He’s responding,” I say as the dots appear on the screen.
The three of us crowd around to watch the screen.
Samuel
Pier 39 carousel. Noon.
The ladies laugh. “Oh my god, that’s like romantic,” Rachel says. “This is an actual date, Calyx!”
“Pier 39? Is he serious? Isn’t that like the world’s biggest tourist trap?”
“It’s a touristattraction. Have you never been?’
“I don’t think so. Not on purpose,” I say.
“Then you and Samuel should fit right in. He’s probably never been either.”
“Oh, God. Thisisa date.”
Priya snorts. “What did you think he was gonna do? Invite you to his place to hang out with him and his dog and a bottle of lube?”
I shoot her a glare because yes. That’s exactly what I thought. In my own defense, I say, “He was all over me.”
Her smile is smug. “Then maybe you’ll both get lucky.”
It turns out,Samuel’s not stupid. If he’d invited me to his place, I would have given in to my overwhelming urge to cancel this “date” by nine a.m. But a carousel in daylight in a very public place somehow makes the idea of meeting up with him less threatening. It even feels like a nice way to let him down gently.
I dressed non-sexy today in case last night I looked like I was “asking for it” or something. I’m in a gray sweater and jeans with a wool coat because it’s chilly and windy as fuck out here. My hair is whipping around my face and turning into a mess I refuse to care about. I show up on time, but he’s already here, waiting stoically near the line for the carousel.
I take a deep breath and approach, appreciating his casual athletic hoodie paired with well-fitting jeans and a pair of sneakers. His nose is a little pink from the cold, and I wonder how he stands this weather with his nearly shaved head. I want to put a hat on him. A beanie or something.
That would be hot.
Ugh, God. I cannot think of him like that. It’s perverse. I’m not right in the head for this.
“Why here?” I ask when I get close enough to talk. This is what I say instead of hi, or good to see you, or you look really fucking sexy in that hoodie.
He shrugs. “Why not?”
“It’s a lot of people.”
“Wanna go someplace more private?” he asks, his voice also unfairly seductive.
“No,” I say quickly. Or at least, I shouldn’t want that.
“Is this a date?” he asks.
I shrug. “I guess.”
“Try not to sound too excited.” With that, he puts his hand on my lower back and walks me to the back of the carousel line.I guess calling it a date means he’s allowed casual touching. Not that I’m necessarily complaining. He’s warm.
“We’re going on this?” I ask.
“Yep.”
