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They existed as a soreness where I was hard. Tenderness. Potential.
If in our year together, they grew past the confines of what I could hold,
they would be dangerous, and if they grew then dissolved into boredom or
distaste while hers didn’t, that could be worse. I didn’t know what she was
like when she was really angry, but she had little to lose making my life
hell.
I should have panicked and spent the following few hours strategizing a
way out.
Instead, I fell asleep.
I woke with the sun peeking over the horizon and no solution for the
risk she posed.
Like every other room in the house, the gym overlooked a pool and
opened to a view that didn’t disappear until the horizon faded into haze.
Colton was already benching. Surprising, since he was the only late
sleeper among us. He saw me and dropped the weights into the rack.
“Yo, yo,” he said, sitting up. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” I draped my towel over the handle of the treadmill and set
my run uphill.
“You split last night.” He shook my hand, then tried to lead me into a
finger hook fist bump thing I had no interest in.
“You split with your money years ago.”
“You mad?” He got onto the treadmill next to me.
“Don’t care.” I started my run as if his actions didn’t concern me.
“Cool.”
“Mom was devastated, so fuck you.”
“Yeah.” He ran next to me. “Fuck me. So, you got a wife, huh? I’m
gonna meet her at breakfast or nah?”
“If you show.” I kept my eyes on the expanse of Los Angeles. Colton
was a pain in the ass and he was turning my sour mood bitter.
“I’m back for good,” he said. “Gonna make it right with the ‘rents.”
“You mean you spent all the money.”
“Man, you haven’t changed.” The belt under his feet shifted and he ran
with it. “Never cut a guy a break.”