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“In full transparency, my number is much higher,” Samantha said, completely measured and unapologetic. “The last guy I was with was a postdoc I knew from school, and we’d see each other whenever it was convenient for both of us. I don’t do relationships.”
“Okay,” Mike said, flicking the bill of his hat back a little. “Where does that leave us?”
She swiveled her head right and left. “In the middle of Abington Street.”
He playfully rolled his eyes at her. “When do you have to be in Texas?”
“My internship starts September first,” she said, and he did the mental math. That was three months away.
“So, until then?”
“Until then…” She bit into her bottom lip as she glanced down at their joined hands. “Maybe if I slow down a bit and you speed up, we can meet in the middle.”
Mike wasn’t sure what he wanted the answer to be and couldn’t quite pinpoint if he was excited or disappointed about her suggestion. Probably both. But he brought his other hand up to her chin, sweeping his thumb across her lower lip. “Can we start with a kiss?”
When she nodded, he bent down, pressing his lips to hers once, twice, and a third time before parting them with his tongue. It was slow and sweet, and over far too soon since she was the first one to pull away, bringing her hand to her collarbone as if she needed to catch her breath. “So…I usually go for walks every day. Will you be joining me?”
He fitted his hat back on his head and turned to continue on their path. “All summer.”
7
Mike lay flat on a bench, slowly inhaling as he lowered the bar toward his chest. He exhaled and pushed it back away from him.
“Six,” Jimmy said.
One more rep.
“Seven.”
Another rep.
“Eigh—”
“You don’t have to keep counting. I think I can handle one through ten.” Mike pressed the bar away from him again.
His brother smirked at him, upside down from Mike’s vantage. “Never know with you.”
He wiped his face and threw the sweaty towel at his brother. “Fuck off.”
Jimmy laughed and switched places, lying on the bench.
“Think you can handle 280, little brother?”
Jimmy snorted. “Yeah.”
“If you say so.” Even though they’d been working out together pretty regularly the last few weeks, Mike knew Jimmy couldn’t bench-press 280 pounds. Not with his scrawny arms.
He helped Jimmy position the bar over his chest then let go, leaving all of the weight in his brother’s hands. Jimmy breathed deeply through his nose, then lowered the bar a few inches before shaking. Another few inches down lower, and Jimmy yelped, dropping the bar to his chest. Mike immediately pulled the bar off his brother’s chest, eyeing him.
Jimmy sat up, brows narrowed. “Shut up.”
Mike quietly chuckled as he removed a few plates from the bar and set them on the floor before gesturing to the lower weights. “Here you go, Hulk. Try this.”
Jimmy settled back down, wrapping his hands around the bar, managing to press it away from his chest with much more ease.
“It’s weird that you don’t listen to music while you work out,” Jimmy said as he finished his set, racking the bar. “It’s too quiet.”
Mike shrugged; he never really noticed. His mind blanked when he exercised.
