The Love Series Complete Box Set (176 page)

BOOK: The Love Series Complete Box Set
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Like that day will ever come.

“It’s still really early and we aren’t telling anyone, but I’m pretty sure that Maddy already told Melanie, so you get to be the first to hear the news, too.” He helps Braden eat a few more bites of his bagel and gives him one of those spill-proof juice cups before setting Braden back down on the floor.

“See,” his tone changes, and I notice it instantly, “that’s how this whole thing works.” His eyebrows quirk up as he moves a hand between the two of us. “I tell you things. You tell me things. We share stuff. Being a family means more than talking about baseballs stats and work.”

“So when should I expect our periods to sync up?”

He shoots me a look and we both laugh aloud. “You can be such a douche, you know that?” he spits out through his laughter.

“As if you aren’t?” Reid holds up his hands, guilty as charged.

When the laughter evaporates, seriousness looms in the air. “I’m serious, Dylan. I meant what I said yesterday. I really think you need to talk to someone, or do
something
to help clear your head.”

Gazing out the window, I consider his ideas. It’s not as if counseling hasn’t crossed my mind. I’d be a hypocrite if I said that talking to someone about your problems didn’t help. My resistance to the idea of therapy is rooted much more in the very real fact that it would just be too painful.

I crumple up the wax paper from my breakfast and walk over to the sink, dumping the rest of my coffee. I lean against the countertop, stretching my legs in front me, and crossing my ankles. “I know you’re right. I’ll think about it; I promise.”

Reid may not believe me, but I mean it.

Reid cleans up the rest of the stuff from breakfast, and when he stands next to me, he digs his wallet out of his back pocket. “If you’re thinking about slipping me a condom out of there,” I joke, feigning a disgusted look.

He pulls out a business card and drops it on the counter next to me. “Call her. She’s good.” After washing his coffee mug, he dries his hands, and tosses the towel on the counter. “Now get your ass in gear because we’re heading to the park in ten minutes.”

I mutter a few choice curses under my breath as I walk past him.

Fifteen minutes later, we’re taking Braden to the park. After years of being away from home, I wasn’t sure where I’d settle down. Reconnecting with Reid made that decision easier. The small town just outside of Elmira, New York, isn’t so small that everyone knows everything about you; I’ve been there before. But, it’s also not so big that I feel like I’m lost in a mass of chaotic nothingness. Up and coming, it’s young and hip, but still very suburban and family oriented.

There’s a trendy coffee shop and a vintage bookstore, bookended between a boutique-clothing store and a specialty chocolate shop. The cobblestone sidewalks rumble beneath the stroller and Braden makes raspberry noises along the way.

When we get to the park, Braden leaps out of his stroller and immediately plops himself in the sandbox. Reid and I sit on the bench and watch as Braden tosses sand in their air. “Maddy’s gonna rip into you for letting him get so filthy.”

“Whatever. I’ll make it up to her.” He winks suggestively at me, hinting at more than I need to know.

I punch him on the arm. “Keep it in the bedroom, would you?”

“Speaking of bedrooms . . .” He lets his half-question hang out there, waiting for me to take the bait. He huffs at me when I don’t. “Tell me what happened with Matt. I thought you guys were doing okay.” Reid digs into the diaper bag and pulls out two bottles of water.

I crack mine open, gulping down a few large sips as I contemplate what to say. Shrugging, I grumble, “Just didn’t work out.” Dancing around the question is easier than answering it.

Reid just glares at me, his pissed-off stare speaking volumes, even though no words come out. Right. The whole talking about feelings and shit. After a restless night of sleep, an early morning wake up call, a lecture on how I need mental help, I’m really not up for it. The sun beating on my back seems to just amplify the foul mood I’ve been trying to keep at bay.

“Was it about Shane?” he asks, calmly.

Without being able to put a finger on it, something shifts inside of me and I lash out at Reid. “You know, you’re one to be poking and prodding all of a sudden. You ran away, too. Left it all behind because you didn’t want to deal with the pain either.”

He shifts on the bench, facing me, not at all affected by my anger. “Yeah, I know, but I was a kid. And so were you. But we’re not kids anymore. I’m trying to move on for him.” He tips his chin at Braden who’s digging a hole with another little boy sitting next to him. “I’m trying to be a better man for my family. They deserve that much. So sue me if part of my plan for figuring out my shit also involves helping you figure yours out too.”

Braden’s cries pull Reid away from our exchange. I watch on as Reid brings Braden over to the swings. Braden’s loud squeals of joy as Reid pushes him higher and higher help calm me down, dissipate my pissed-off mood. I walk over to them.

“Sorry,” I mutter and Reid nods. I’ve moved beyond being worthy of a verbal response. “Matt wanted more.” Jamming my hands in my pockets, I dig my heels into the woodchips that lay on the ground.

“More can be good.” He tickles Braden on his sides when the swing retreats, making him giggle all over again.

“I’m not ready for more. Don’t think I ever will be.”

Reid turns to face me, letting Braden swing on his own for a few seconds. “No maybe you aren’t and maybe you won’t be, but you’ll never know until you try.”

He gives Braden a few more pushes, keeps his eyes forward, and says, “Look at what I’d be missing out on if I didn’t try.”

We don’t talk about Matt, Shane, or anything really for the rest of the time we’re at the park. Before long, we pack up and head back to my apartment. The sidewalks are busier, more people strolling lazily through their Saturday morning. The coffee shop has a few tables set up outside where couples sit and flip through the newspaper.

That’s what I’m missing out on and I know it. I feel it everywhere, but I know I don’t deserve it.

Reid elbows me, nearly knocking me into the street. “Look, they’re opening a new gym.” He points down the road where balloons and banners flap in the light breeze. We walk toward it, not entirely sure how we missed it on the way here. “Freaking awesome. It’s one of those MMA training gyms. I used to take classes back in college.” Reid’s face lights up as we stand in front of the new building.

It looks modern and clean, not like one of those over-the-top and in-your-face places. The façade of the building is sleek—grey and chrome, with masculine black letters above the doorway.
Michelson’s.

We walk inside and a woman who could easily be mistaken for Tinkerbell greets us at the front desk. “Hi. Welcome to Michelson’s.” She extends her hand to us as she hops down from her seat behind the counter.

She crouches down in front of the stroller. “Hey there, buddy. Aren’t you adorable?”

She asks if we want a tour as Reid pokes his head into the main space. Before he can answer her, his phone rings. “I gotta take this.” He looks at the screen and then steps back outside.

It’s pretty much empty inside—all I can see are mats and a few unoccupied machines. “We’re running a special for our grand opening. Maybe you and your,” she pauses, seemingly searching for the right word before her eyes settle on Reid. She hands me a flier, listing all the prices and services. “Maybe you and your friend might be interested.”

“Thanks,” I glance down at her nametag, “Rachel.” I smile at her, taking the slip of paper from her hand. Reid taps on the front window, giving me the “we need to go” signal.

I step on the wheel lock of the stroller and turn to leave as someone else walks in.

A hot someone else.

Tall. Built.

Tattoos flirt with the edge of his shirt—his employee shirt.

Maybe joining here might not be a bad idea, after all.

Relationships and thoughts of
more
be damned. I could use a little eye-candy in my life.

“Oh, here.” He takes a step back to the door through which he just walked. “Let me get that for you.” His large frame doesn’t leave much room for me to step past him. I actually have to turn sideways just so I don’t touch him.

“Thanks,” I say, my voice a bit gruffer than it usually is.

He smiles at me through the glass as I approach Reid before he turns his back and goes to the counter where Rachel was sitting when we walked in.

“Everything okay?” I have to actually jog a few steps to catch up to Reid who is a few feet in front of me.

“Yeah, Maddy’s just really sick this morning.” He looks over at me, a curious look on his face. “You okay?”

“Me? I’m fine,” I lie, because lying to both him and myself is much easier than admitting how much I want to go back to the gym and see just what Michelson’s has to offer.

 

Chapter Fifteen

May 16, 2015

 

“Oh, here. Let me get that for you.” A father and his son slide out beneath my arm as I walk into the gym. I watch him walk away. He’s fit and trim, very easy on the eyes. Smells good, too.

Figures. The good-looking ones are always taken,
I think to myself as I watch him approach his partner on the sidewalk.

Stepping into the gym, no, scratch that,
my
gym, feels like stepping on cloud nine. As I walk inside, the new smell of everything filters in. I really can’t believe this is all mine. Years of hard work and planning are finally paying off.

Thoughts of all I had to sacrifice, of all that was taken from me, float in the periphery, but I choose to ignore them. No point in dwelling on what can’t be changed.

Scanning the empty space, I see Rachel clicking away on the computer. Now that the gym is open, all I need are a few customers to get things started. And, you know, make sure I don’t lose all my money in this venture.

“Hey, Con.” Rachel spins in her desk chair an extra time just for good measure. “So,” she stretches out the word, “what do you think?” She waves her arm though the air, displaying the open gym space.

“I think it’s all unreal.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty freaking cool. Oh, and I think I may have gotten those two guys who were just here interested in signing up.”

“Hopefully the ads I took out bring some traffic in, too. And I have Carla starting that women’s self-defense class next week,” I ramble on nervously as I make my way behind the desk, making a small checklist of to-do items for the day. Sadly, without too many people, there isn’t much to do.

“Calm down. Remember, we don’t have the official grand opening until next weekend. That’s when people will start flocking in. It’ll all work out. Just wait and see.”

Rachel, ever the optimist, always looks at the bright side of everything. I’m the worrier. She’s the spitting image of Mom and I’m cleaved from the same stone as our father. A pang of sadness sinks in my stomach. I wish they could have been here to see this, to see what their children had become.

But, on the other hand, there’s a small part of me that’s relieved they didn’t have to witness what brought me here in the first place.

Keying in on my silence, Rachel scoots next to me, and laces her arms around my waist, leaning her head against my upper arm. “They’d be real proud of you, Conner.” She looks up at me, her big brown eyes watery. “I know I am,” she says, squeezing me to her side even tighter.

“Thanks, kid.” I kiss the top of her head and get back to work, not wanting to focus on the sad stuff on what should be a happy day.

By mid-week, we’ve gotten more than a handful of new members and even though the big event—a meet and greet with a few MMA fighters turned trainers—isn’t scheduled until Saturday, business is already on the upswing.

When I was planning everything out, I kept the staff to a minimum. Since I wasn’t too sure of how many people I could afford to pay, I figured I’d just run myself ragged until I couldn’t stand.

Turns out you can only pull off five fourteen hour days, after a grueling yearlong construction process, before you fall flat on your ass. Other than Carla’s class, which is in its first session, it’s fairly quiet.

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