Page 29 of Every Inch of You
Chapter Nine
BRAD
Icouldn’t stop thinkingaboutVivian.
Just talking to her was so exhilarating—what would having sex with her do to me? Was it crazy to deny us both this pleasure, or was I averting certain ruin?...Christ, all this restraint was turning me into a fucking Jane Austen character…Fuck that. I wanted to fuck her. I’ve never wanted to fuck anyone so much. I wanted to fuck both our brainsout.
But on some level I actually believed that if I couldn’t control my desire to fuck her, then the dam would break and I’d start wolfing down Doritos and donuts, binge-watchingDr. Who,and be a fat nerd again within days. I knew it was a totally irrational belief, but I clung to it like a life raft filled withmonks.
Saturday night,my last client was one of my favorites—a sixty-year-old guy named Larry who’d made millions in tech and lost much of it to his ex-wives. He was going through his fourth divorce when we started the personal training sessions a year earlier. He was doughy and his energy levels were low. He never admitted to being depressed, but I believed he had a low-grade depression. His fourth wife left him for a younger man, and it hit him hard, but on his first questionnaire he said that he wanted to get back in shape and to feel good so he could fall in love again. I kept pressing him to find out if that was really what he wanted—and he did. Now he could bench press ninety percent of his body weight and he was running 5Ks. He was engaged to the lady who owns the café down the street from mygym.
Often, a personal trainer can take on the role of a personal therapist or life coach for a client (even though he isn’t qualified), but with Larry it was almost immediately the other way around. I respected the guy, he had a lot of experience and he had a way withwords.
He was using the cable biceps bar. His form was perfect, and he usually liked to count his reps out loud, so I let my mind wander for amoment.
“You have the distracted manner of a man who’s falling in love, myfriend.”
“What? No. I was just thinking about how far you’ve come since westarted.”
He guffawed. “Please. I know pussy brain when I seeit.”
“I did just get akitten.”
“Aw cute. Tell me about thewoman.”
“There’s nowoman.”
“There’s always awoman.”
“Well, there is someone from my past, who’s back in my lifeagain.”
“From your past? You say that like you’re an old geezer likeme.”
“From high school. She broke myheart.”
“Ah. When you were afatty.”
“Yes. Why don’t you come over to the triceps bar now. Good job with the biceps. Thirtyreps.”
He shook his arms out and jumped up and down before positioning himself at the triceps bar. “She’s all over you now that you’re a GreekGod?”
“Prettymuch.”
“Well. The people who break our heartsmakeour hearts, that’s what Isay.”
I wrinkled my brow. “What do youmean?”
“I mean, we’re all children until we get our hearts broken for the first time. It’s how we react to getting our heart broken that defines the kind of adult we’ll become. Look at how well-definedIam,” he said with achuckle.
“You certainlyare.”
“You probably started working out because of her, am Iright?”
“Well I wouldn’t put it that way.”Okay, yes, it’strue.
“Yeah, well. We all want to tell our stories a certain way. Me, I don’t see it as five separate love stories in my life. It’s all part of one epic tale of a guy who never gave up. A broken heart is an open heart. Remember that. Enough girl talk.” He started on his triceps push-downs, and I started to get a lump in mythroat.
When I got home,I kept checking LB’s litter box every fifteen minutes, to make sure she didn’t have diarrhea after switching her from formula to watery canned kitten food. After about two hours, she made a hard poop and I did a happy dance. She was such a little badass. I could feel my heart opening up a little more every time I looked at the tiny adorable monster, but I was still afraid of who else I’d let in if I let my guard downcompletely.
