Page 52 of Resistance Training
“Well… Any ideas for a name?”
“For whom?”
“The kitten.”
“Oh. No.” He frowns again. “I don’t know if it’s my place to name her. Why did you name your cat Hairy Styles again?”
“Because he’s skinny and he’s got swagger.” I step over to the bathroom door and press my ear against it. I gasp. “I can hear her eating,” I whisper.
“Really?” He presses his ear up against the door, next to me, facing me. He smiles. “Wow, she’s so hungry,” he says softly.
“Yeah.” I touch his arm. “It’s a nice thing you’ve done.”
He shrugs. “Thanks for helping me.”
“Welcome.” We keep leaning against the door, facing each other. I stare into his intense, green eyes. “For what it’s worth,I think you’d make a great cat daddy. I mean, who better to transform a feral feline than a personal trainer? You have all the skills necessary to motivate her to want to live with you and give her clear guidelines for how to be a good, healthy indoor kitty cat.”
He sighs and touches the door with one hand. “I don’t know. I’m not home very often. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”
“Well. Let her decide. Once she’s ready to come out and explore your place—after you’ve cat-proofed it. See if she likes it. I mean, it seems like she chose you. It would be rude to just let someone else take her when she just showed up for you like that.”
He frowns again.
I change the subject. “So, how were you able to afford your own gym at such a young age anyway?”
He shifts around, leaning his back against the door, so we aren’t facing each other, but he’s still so close I can smell his fabric softener. He still uses the same kind his mom used to use. “My grandmother passed away when I was twenty and left me quite a bit of money.”
“Oh no. Grandma Mitchell?”
“No, my mom’s mom. You never met her.”
“Right. The wealthy one. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, I had only met her a couple of times when I was a kid, but she was my pen pal for a while, and I guess I made a good impression on her. Anyway, I invested it. I made some really good investments, lived below my means for a few years while I saved more. I used some of the money for a down payment on this place, put some of the money into the gym, and the rest was funded by a small-business loan from a banker who was one of my first clients when I was working as a trainer at another gym. He liked my business plan, and he knew I had a high client-retention rate, knew I was disciplined.” He shrugs. “It all worked out.”
“I’m glad for you.”
“Thanks.”
“Be right back.” I go to the front door, where I left my bag, and pull out the copy ofThe Anthropocene Reviewedthat I got for him. Handing it to him, I say, “You left this on the shelf when you bolted. Believe it or not, I went to Powell’s to get this for you.”
He lowers his head, covers his face with the book. “I’m an asshole.”
“Yeah. You are.”
“I’m sorry. I actually did see you there.”
“What?!”
“I just…it’s not a good idea for us to hang out, Sparks.”
“Sparky.”
Brad stares down at the book. “Sparky… Believe it or not, I went there to get this for your birthday.”
“What? Say that again.”
He smiles, shaking his head. “I went there to get this for your birthday. As a client gift. I was going to order it online.”
