AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her eyes widen, and it looks like she’s about to smile, but she stops herself. “I-I wouldn’t want to get in the way. You’re in the gym a lot.” Her voice is softer than I expect, and the tentativeness behind her words makes me feel like even more of an asshole.
“We’re sharing this house together, Tee. You’re welcome anywhere, even if I’m already there. I don’t know if you’ve been inside properly, but it’s a very well-stocked gym. So even if I’m using the equipment you want, there’s plenty of others,” I explain, trying to keep any emotion out of my voice.
The way her piercing grey eyes gaze into mine suddenly makes me feel very naked. “I just thought the gym was your space. Somewhere for you to get away.”
“Not from you,” I say quickly—more word vomit. I have to hide the way my cheeks raise in a wince when I notice how shocked she looks.
“Thank you. Maybe some time you can give me a rundown of how the machines work. I think it’s mostly the treadmill I would want, but it’s good to know all of them.” The words fly out of her mouth too, and I wonder if she’s as nervous as I am.
“Of course. Just let me know when,” I respond. I’m supposed to stop talking now, but my mouth hasn’t quite caught up with my brain, and I just keep going like an idiot. “It’s so strange hearing that you want to use the gym. You were practically allergic to exercise when we were kids.”
Her eyes narrow, and she scoffs at me. “I was not allergic to exercise, thank you very much. I just chose to only do the bare minimum.”
“What changed?” I ask with a chuckle, genuinely curious to learn more about how the girl I knew became the woman standing in front of me.
“Life,” she says, letting out a big sigh. “When Mum became ill, it was a lot. I had so much going on, so many responsibilities and fear, and I just didn’t know how to cope. I needed to clear my head, or it may have exploded. I found that running helps me do just that. I prefer running outside, feeling the wind in my face, and that sense of freedom that comes with running through nature. But as long as it turns my brain off for a bit, any sort of running works.”
“It’s the same for me,” I confess, and Teigan leans closer, almost like she’s desperate for any information I’m willing to share. “For me, I run and use the rowing machine for cardio, to push my heart rate for that rush that clears my head. But then I use weights, as they push my body beyond what I think I’m capable of.”
“You exercise until you’re exhausted and in pain? Is that even fun?” she asks, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“I wouldn’t call it fun, but it’s… I don’t know how to explain it properly. All I can say is that there’s a numbness from it that I like. I enjoy knowing my body can be pushed that far. I guess it’s a way of taking back some control,” I admit, and I realise this is the first time I’ve ever really thought about why I work my ass to the bone in the gym all the time.
My family has always seen me do it, and they probably just assumed, the same way I did, that I was doing it as a distraction. That it was something I needed to do to clear my head, but the more I think about it, I realise there’s more to it. I want to be in control of my own body, and determine my own strength.
“You’ve always liked being in control.” It’s such a simple statement, but there’s a huskiness to her voice that tells me she’sthinking of the double meaning. I have always needed to be in control, but never more so than in the bedroom—with her.
Her grey eyes darken, turning to molten lava, and I watch as her chest rises and falls a little quicker than before. All I can think, as my cock hardens, is that she still has the same tells as before. I can identify when she’s turned on. And that fucking scares me.
I want more than anything to lean in, to say something just as dirty with a double meaning as she did—to flirt with her. But my mouth finally catches up with my brain. This is dangerous territory. If I flirt with her, watch as she gets more turned on, I’m going to want her.
It would be so easy to fall back into old habits, but I can’t let that happen. The ruins of my heart are encased firmly behind brick walls, to protect what’s left, and there’s no way I’m letting her close enough to destroy me again—no matter how much I want to fuck her.
Slipping on the mask of indifference I’ve perfected over the years, my eyes narrow on her, and I watch as she visibly recoils, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I have some work to do in my office. I will see you tonight at half-past six. You can pick the film.”
Without saying another word, I pick up my coffee cup and practically run out of the room. It takes all of my effort not to look back, to see if she’s okay. I mean, I’m sure she’s fucking not. She made an effort to talk to me, and I just fucking ran from her. So I’m sure she’ll be pissed. But I have to protect myself, and Teigan has more power to hurt me than anyone else.
It feels like I spend the whole day with my head up my ass, wandering around, wondering what the hell will happen tonight. There’s a part of me that’s excited to spend the evening with Teigan, to get to know her again. But then there’s the other part of me, the one that’s spent ten years trying to get over her, that keeps reminding me that no good will come from us spending time together.
Just this morning, it was so easy for us to slip back into the old routine of flirting with each other. I’ve spent all day asking myself if that’s what I want. Do I want another chance with Teigan? What really fucking scares me is that I don’t know the answer.
I know the answer I should give, which is to say hell fucking no and run far away, as fast as possible. But, when I’m alone at night, with only my thoughts and memories for company, there’s a little voice in my head, telling me that she’s what is missing in my life.
Since she left, I’ve never been happy. I’m just existing, not living. But to let her in, I have to hand over my heart again, and it’s still not recovered from the damage she caused last time. I don’t know if I can survive it again.
At half-past six, I’m still standing in my room, just looking at myself in the mirror. I’ve seriously been pacing like a nervous thirteen-year-old girl for the last hour, worrying about what the hell I’m going to wear.
If I choose the suit I normally wear, it feels too formal, but that’s the right kind of armour I need around her. Or I couldpick the sweatpants I normally wear when I’m lazing around the house. But again, that feels a little too casual for this. So instead, I settle on a pair of black jeans, and a plain black T-shirt.
I’ve managed to maintain a little bit of my armour by wearing all black, without looking overly formal. My hair is so short now, I can’t do much with it. I simply run my fingers through the short strands, making sure they don’t look too flat, and that’s it. With a final spray of my cologne, I’m ready to go.
So why the hell can’t I bring myself to leave the room?
Seriously, my stomach is doing somersaults, and it’s making me nauseous. I don’t think I was this nervous when we went on our first date, and I really don’t want to pick apart why that might be.
After some stern words to myself, and more than a few threats, I grab my phone off the nightstand and head to the door. My hand on the doorknob, I take a big deep breath, trying to pull in just a little bit of calm. I hate how it trembles slightly, and I have to grip the handle tighter to hide it.
Once I have pulled back the slightest semblance of control, I open the door and stride down the stairs, my face morphed into the mask of indifference I’ve perfected over the last decade. It takes just a couple of seconds for that mask to crack when I reach the kitchen.
