Page 104 of Stroked by (Stroked)
“A pleasant merry-go-round with no drama.”
Isn’t that the fucking truth?
***
“Ten more, come on, man,” Hollis calls out, pushing me to my limits in the weight room.
I’m dragging ass today, especially after my morning workout. My training regimen has picked up drastically and even though I was feeling great this morning, I’m starting to feel my age. Two-a-days aren’t as easy as they used to me.
“Fuck,” I breathe out on my last rep of pull-ups, lowering myself down to the training room floor.
Hollis pats me on the back as I’m bent over, trying to let my beating heart even out. “Dude, you’re looking old today.”
“I’m feeling old,” I reply. “Thirty-two is no joke.”
Hopping up on the bar, Hollis starts counting out reps with ease. “I wonder what it will be like to live in my thirties. Maybe I will grow a goatee, maybe go Tom Sellack on people’s asses and sport the mustache.”
Mind you, he will be thirty next year. He talks about it as if it’s some far-off concept.
“You would look like a giant dickhead,” I answer honestly, working my way to the ground for some plank work. I lower to my elbows and balance on my toes, stretching out along a mat, hovering inches above it. Wasting no time, I press the start button on the stopwatch on my wrist so I can time myself properly.
Huffing out his pull-ups, he says, “Maybe, but a dignified dickhead at that.”
Finishing up his reps, he hops off the bar and comes next to me to start his planks. Sweat pours off my brow as I exert my body at the end of my workout. I balance on one arm and pull the hem of my shirt up to wipe my forehead, welcoming the cool air that hits my burning abs.
“What are you doing the rest of the day?” Hollis asks, trying to distract us both from the plank work we’re doing.
“My girl is coming over later. We’re going to hang out. I want to soak up as much of her as possible before I leave for camp. I also have a production meeting to discuss more Rio shit.”
“Is her roommate still being a dick?”
I told Hollis all about Jonathan’s asshole ways the day after the fight, going into great detail about him being a massive dick to Paisley. We both agreed that’s not how a friend treats another friend, despite how frustrated or annoyed you are. Hollis then started going into a theory that didn’t settle well with me. He’s convinced Jonathan has feelings for Paisley and that’s why he’s being such a dick.
Not wanting to even think about that possibility, I ignored his theory, but of course, being the jealous prick I am, I kept harping on it, letting it ferment in my mind until I couldn’t take it anymore and asked Paisley if she thought he was in love with her. Not my best moment. I looked like an ass but I had to know. She told me there was no way that was even possible given their past history, but I still have my doubts. Why else would a guy blow up like that? Was it really over her job, or was he jealous?
Either way, he didn’t have a chance in hell of stealing Paisley from me. I would make it my mission to make sure that never happened in case he did have feelings for her. To hell if I would be the loser at the end of the romantic comedy who lost to the “best friend.” Fuck. No.
“Yeah, he’s still being a dick. That’s why she’s been spending so much time at my place. Not that I’m complaining. I prefer it that way, actually. I just feel like she’s holding back from me a little. Despite how much I hate it, I know her relationship with Jonathan is important, and ever since their fight something’s been missing.”
“Do you think she has feelings for him?” Hollis chuckles, knowing damn well I don’t care for his stupid jokes that jab at me.
Shifting my weight to one arm, I lift my opposite hand and punch Hollis in the shoulder causing him to topple over and laugh out loud.
“You’re such an asshole,” I grumble as my time is up. Falling to the mat, I turn over on my back and look up at the ceiling. “She doesn’t have feelings for him. They’re just friends.”
Still laughing, Hollis says, “I know, but fuck it’s fun messing with you.”
“Hey,” the distinct deep voice of Bodi Banks says from above us. Looking skyward, Bodi stands in front of us, clutching his water bottle, a towel slung over his shoulder. He looks like he just got done with a workout himself.
“What’s up, Bodi?” I ask, standing to my feet.
“I have a question for you,” Bodi says, getting straight to the point. He’s never been much of a talker, at all actually. He’s a nice guy but very quiet. When he’s in the pool, he listens to his coach, does his workout and leaves. There is not much socializing on his end. But I’m the one with the poor image, probably because Bodi’s work at the local Boys and Girls Club is more known than my charity work. Pretty sure he volunteers every Thursday.
“Are you asking him out?” Hollis asks, standing up as well. “I tried already today and struck out, but you’re thicker than me, maybe he will give you a chance.”
Hollis and Bodi, now there’s a couple of men that never got along and not because Hollis hasn’t tried. Bodi just doesn’t get Hollis’s sense of humor. There is something dark and twisted about Bodi, you can see it in his eyes. He’s . . . jaded. I know he lives in the area, lost his parents when he was young, and he’s very, very private about his personal life. Oh, and his sister is an artist. Paisley informed me of that little tidbit, that and his sister is in a committed relationship with Paisley’s new friend, Lauren. But that’s all I know about the man, as he’s fairly mute.
Bodi just glances at Hollis without acknowledging his question and then turns back to me. Getting down to business, he says, “I know someone who is interested in Bellini’s seamstress position. She could really use the work, and she’s good. Do you think you could put in a good word for her?”
