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She looked from me to the others, who were already nodding.
“We’re in if you’re in, Ariana,” grinned Axel. “A few dry runs can only help.”
I examined my friend carefully as she pretended to contemplate the arrangement. And I knew she was pretending, too. I’d already seen all the telltale signs of acceptance in the subtitles of her body language. There was even excitement.
“Fine,” she sighed at last. “I’ll let the three of you date me. Just one more thing…”
Her smirk was sardonic, but also somewhat grateful.
“Who’s paying?”
Axel laughed, although a little nervously. “Maybe us, maybe you,” he teased. “Who knows? Don’t worry though,” he added. “We’re generally cheap dates.”
“Oh boy,” Ariana rolled her eyes. “Just what every girl likes to hear.”
“Cheap but fun,” I agreed.
“Fun and adventurous,” Zane added with a wink.
Ariana reached for her wine glass again and took a long, emboldening pull. It felt like the girl I’d lived next door to for so much of my life had grown into a strong, beautiful woman when I wasn’t looking. Maybe even too strong for most men.
Yet underneath that gruff exterior, I knew the person Ariana truly was. She was sweet, thoughtful, and kind. If she was coming off as too sarcastic or abrasive, it was something we could totally work on. If she’d let us, that is.
Either way, I knew we’d have fun taking her out and playing the part of her suitors, even just for a night or three. And it was obvious to everyone that our friend could use a few good dates. Even if those dates were platonic.
“So… are you boys absolutely sure?” Ariana asked coyly. “This is your last chance to back out.”
She stretched her legs, and those legs looked a lot more toned and tan than I’d last remembered. My gaze lingered on them for a few extra seconds, and I had to shake my head to clear it.
“Sure we’re sure,” I spoke up. “Practice makes perfect.”
Ariana’s sly grin came with an eventual nod. "Alright,” she declared, raising her wine glass and swinging it our way. “Let’s make it official and clink on it.”
~ 9 ~
ARIANA
The next few days were busy ones, filled with classes, projects, and work. Scheduling enough time for everything was an eternal chore, but it was a happy chore. Besides, I’d always found myself at my happiest — and most inspired — when I was lost in the chaotic joy of multitasking.
“Hey… are you using those?”
I glanced down at the fifteen-pound dumbbells and shook my head. “Nah. They’re all yours.”
“Thanks,” the pony-tailed blonde smiled, before bouncing away.
Somewhere between everything else, I squeezed in some gym time, and it was here that I could really let go. The exercise was cathartic, and always seemed to clear my mind. I was able to erase the coffee shop and forget about classes. I could even forget, for short spans of time, anyway, that I was currently renting the basement apartment of my original childhood home.
Talk about depressing.
These things tended to happen though, when you stuck around long after your family moved on. My parents were in SoCal, having packed their things a while ago. The new owners were happy to keep me renting the basement, and at first I was grateful. In retrospect however, I really could’ve used the kick in the ass.
“Forget it, I think I’m gonna use the tens.”
The bubbly blonde materialized out of nowhere again, dropping the weights at my feet halfway through my next set of bicep curls. I hadn’t been using them anyway. They just happened to be nearby.
“Wait,” she stopped suddenly, turning back around. “Do you think they have twelves?”
“Maybe,” I hissed through clenched teeth. Pumping the curl bar up and then down, I realized with frustration I’d lost count of my reps. “Did you try the rack?”
