Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“You need some shower gel?” the guy asked from the other side of the low wall.
“Huh?” I was startled enough to almost lose my footing.
“Shower gel,” he repeated. “I noticed you didn’t have any. Would you like to use some of mine?” He held up a black bottle of shower gel, sans top. “You can use it for your hair, too.”
“Uh, sure… I guess,” I stammered, reaching for the bottle. As I poured a dollop into my cupped palm, I read the label aloud. “Tom Ford. I thought he only made clothes.”
The guy shrugged, took the bottle back from me. “What’s your name?” he asked.
I felt my eyes widen, and I looked at him like he’d just asked for my social security number. “Um…”
“Never mind,” he blurted. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“No, I do. I want to.” I lathered my body quickly as I spoke, without regard for accuracy of coverage. “It’s Jamie. My name’s Jamie Atwood. Can I get another squirt of that soap?” I smiled, trying to warm up and relax.
He spilled some out into my palm, and I rubbed it into my hair. After I’d finished rinsing my hair under the faucet and wiping soap from my eyes, I said, “You know my name. What’s yours?”
“Cameron Walsh,” he answered.
He wasn’t creepy, wasn’t trying to look over the wall or anything, but his eyes never left mine. It felt strange and oddly exhilarating as we held gazes for what seemed like minutes, both searching for something else to say and coming up blank. When it got a little too intense, I was the one to break the stare, glancing down and watching the last tiny bubbles of Cameron’s shower gel gathering at the edge of the drain before being sucked down.
“Well, I guess I’m gonna get out of here.” Cameron finally found his voice, and I was relieved. Relieved that I hadn’t had to speak first, and relieved that he was leaving. Better not to find out just how strange a gym shower conversation could get.
I felt like I’d just been hit on. Hell, I knew I had. It wasn’t the first time a guy had ever shown interest in me, and I’d never gotten up in arms about it. I just considered it a fact of life. But this one had seemed different— bolder.
Not tonight, buddy. Not ever.
I pretended to shower until Cameron had left the locker room. Then I got dressed and headed out to my car. Instead of going straight home like I normally did, I took a detour and drove straight to the local pick-up bar, The Collegiate. It was where all of the single guys on the basketball team hung out, and I figured since I was now a single basketball player, that was where I belonged. Besides, a guy was almost guaranteed to find something he could take home in there.
Since fate seemed to be kicking me in the ass that day, I was only slightly surprised to discover Layla and her new boy toy cozied up together at a back table in The Collegiate. It made me angry for more reasons than one, but mainly because Layla deserved to be taken somewhere better than this shit hole for a first date. But she also deserved better than me, so who was I to talk? I hadn’t even been able to muster enough interest to ask her not to break up with me.
At that point, my appetite was gone. And I don’t mean my appetite for food. I sat down at the bar and ordered one of the fifty-cent well drinks the club used to get the girls compliant, which in turn brought the guys through the front door every night.
One girl after another sat next to me to order their drinks, but I never even cast a full glance at any of them. They never stayed more than a couple of minutes, either— probably because of the arctic chill emanating off of me. Just after I got my second Screwdriver, Matt slipped onto the stool beside me.
“Hey, man,” he said. “You okay?”
“Not really,” I grated.
He rested his forearms on the bar. “Look, we never went out while you two were together. I just want you to know that, okay? I didn’t steal her from you. She said you two just grew apart.”
I finally turned to look at him. “It’s not even that. So we grew apart. Fine, I accept that, and she and I are still friends. But dude… what are you thinking bringing her to a place like this on your first date? She’s not some piece of meat. She’s a great girl, and she deserves better than this. Why don’t you pretend you’ve got some fucking class and take her out to a nice restaurant?”