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Maybe I should leave Wyatt alone. If I had left Bryce and Charlotte alone, Roni would still have Terri. I’m pissed with Justin but not angry.
I yank open the glass door leading into the gym with a little too much force. The girl behind the counter stares at me as I walk up to the sign-in sheet. Don’t worry, honey; I don’t want to slap you. I only slap boys. She looks down at her phone while I start to sign in, but her eyes glance at the sheet on the clipboard. Astrid…the pen stops for a fraction of a second before I finish writing Howland in big, loopy script. She gawks at me again, and I toss the pen down on the desk as I walk off without ever acknowledging her existence. I might be a bastard, but I’m a rich one.
My thigh muscles protest as I put my body through a grueling workout of sprints and stretches. The main gym starts to fill up as late morning turns into early afternoon, and I decide to head upstairs to the private gym for more personal space. My gaze scans the hallways as I walk upstairs, hoping I’ll see Wyatt somewhere in the gym. I can distract myself from everything else but him.
He’s here, and my heart pounds in my ears. Instantly my gaze goes to him as I walk into the open gym. Every time I see Wyatt, I feel hope. Hesitating, I feel like I’m wading in water as I walk toward the free weights where Wyatt bench presses. His muscular arms lift a hundred and fifty like it weighs less than air, but his body glistens with sweat, proving it’s hard work. Wyatt should’ve been my first, but fingers crossed, he’ll be my last.
“Hey,” I say quietly as he lifts the weights back onto the bench. “I always see you here.”
Wyatt gives me a scornful look but doesn’t turn away when I grin stupidly. Instead he keeps his eyes on me as he gracefully sits up in one sweeping movement. Wyatt runs his hand down his face, brushing away the sweat, and I watch him, holding my breath. Will he talk to me today?
“I have something to show you…in private,” he says. Wyatt gets up from the bench and walks toward the private studio. I follow, walking quickly behind him, and ironically, we head for the same room he told me off in. My stomach sinks so low I feel nauseous, knowing this isn’t going to be what I had hoped. I want him to forgive me because he can’t resist me, but it’s dumb as fuck to think that way. He’s not weak or about to forgive me so easily.
His gym bag is already in the room as if Wyatt had been expecting me to show up. I stare at it as if it’s a feral beast ready to strike out and not a navy nylon bag lying in the corner of the room. Wyatt opens the zip and pulls out a piece of paper. Another piece of paper? Justin needs to stop with this shit. He’s not the sensitive type being pushed around by the other three. He’s a manipulative piece of work and playing with all of our emotions.
“Is this yours?” Wyatt’s mouth is set in a hard line as he holds the paper out for me to take it.
