Page 9 of Sky Full of Stars

Adam: Well, his loss

Me: I have been thinking about getting into becoming a trainer though

Adam: I’m sure the MMA fighters would love that

Me: Not men, other women. It’s a good skill for women to have

Adam: What are the guys like there, bet they hit on you all the time

I pause for a second. It sounds a lot like he’s fishing to find out about my love life.

Adam: Don’t overthink it, Slugger. We’re just chatting

Me: I wasn’t, I was getting another glass of wine

Adam: Ah, so you’re drinking…Alone?

Me: Does that matter?

Adam: Just wondering if I have your full attention

Oh God…I grab myself another wine. I decide to answer his earlier question

Me: The guys at the gym are all perfect gentlemen, plus there are gym rules

Adam: What are the rules?

Me: No hitting on the female members

Adam: Does that really stop them? I don’t think it would stop me

Me: Then Sam would throw you out

Adam: Sam looks out for the ladies?

Me: Sam is a good guy. He’s in his sixties, opened the gym thirty years ago

Why do I need to explain Sam isn’t competition? I down the wine. I’m getting a little buzzed. Is he flirting with me? Am I reading too much into this? My mind goes to his body, his blue eyes, the way he looked after me and how my body reacted when he touched me.

Adam: Good to know. I have an early start tomorrow. It was nice chatting, Slugger

Me: Do you have to continue calling me that?

Adam: Yup. G’nite…Slugger

Me: Goodnight

I chuckle a little at him not stopping with the nickname. The chat ends there. I wonder why he even bothered contacting me. I re-read the conversation. He asked me a lot of questions. I didn’t ask him any. And I answered all of his, except whether I was alone or not but I’m pretty sure he figured I am. I toss my phone and try to read again but my mind keeps going back to Adam. What kind of work does he do that would take him to LA?

I shake him from my head, give up reading for pleasure and head to my home office to start reading Maurice’s latest book. Izzy isn’t convinced, he hasn’t put anything out in nearly five years and as much as she hates to say it, he takes up too much of her time and isn’t putting anything out. She wants me to read it before she decides finally what to do with him. I get my head lost in it, pushing out thoughts of dreamy blue eyes.

“I don’t want to say it, Iz.”

“It’s crap.”

“Not all crap.”

“Crap. Ada read it over the weekend too. She agrees.”

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