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Me: On my way.
Throwing my legs over the bed, I ignore the swelling in my boxers and grab a clean pair of basketball shorts and tee. Workouts with Rhenn are always tough, but now he’s going to be exceptionally brutal in light of my tardiness.
Rhenn is my oldest friend. We met in grade school when I was being bullied by two junior high boys over my size. I was always a tad on the short side and always ridiculed over it. Rhenn found the boys pushing me around behind the dumpster and intervened. Actually, I believe he kicked one in the balls and told the other he would rearrange his face if he caught him messing with me again.
That was the start of our friendship.
Rhenn was always a big guy, but used his size for good. He owns the dojo where I teach a Wednesday Little Dragons class and help with his bi-weekly Friday self-defense class for beginners. I’m a first degree black belt, while Rhenn is a third. He’s an electrician by day and always seems to have no trouble finding a lady-friend to keep him company at night.
After brushing my teeth, I slip on a pair of shoes, grab my bag, and jump into my car to head toward the dojo. By the time I pull in, it’s quarter after six, which will probably result in an extra fifteen minutes on the treadmill.
Using my key, I unlock the door and am greeted by the heavy beat of AC/DC. Rhenn must have had a good night last night if he’s already hitting “Thunderstruck” for a warm-up. I ignore the man on the treadmill and slip into our private locker room to change. By Friday morning, this place always smells like a sweaty locker room, with towels thrown in the basket in the corner and empty water bottles loitering the benches.
It’s why Rhenn pays someone handsomely to come in every weekend and make the place not smell so…smelly.
When I’m ready to go, I join my friend in the weight room attached to the main dojo. He’s already pounding the road, or more adequately, the treadmill. Rhenn’s the type of guy, even with his big bulky frame, who thinks running five miles is fun.
I see no fun in running.
After stretching out my legs, I climb onto the machine next to his and slowly work up to a jog.
“‘Bout fucking time,” he pants, sweat already falling from his brow.
“Sorry. Late night.” My legs immediately start to feel the burn.
“What was it this time? Damsel with a flat tire? Grandpa broke his crown? You didn’t leave here until nine, which tells me it couldn’t have been anything too exciting. Like balls deep in a beautiful woman,” Rhenn says, throwing me a cocky smirk.
I snort. “O ye of little faith, my friend.”
Rhenn glances my way. “Really? Because if you were up all night screwing a woman then I’m willing to knock a few miles off today’s run.”
Without answering, I increase my speed.
“That’s what I thought. So what was it? The damsel or the tooth emergency?”
For nearly a minute, the only sound is the pounding of our feet on the treadmills and slight exertion (mostly from me). But that’s the thing about Rhenn; he hasn’t dropped the conversation. He’s just waiting me out, like always.
“Meghan.” I had to give him something.
“I already knew that, man. What was wrong with the damsel this time?”
The way he says it heckles my nerves, but I know he doesn’t mean any disrespect. Rhenn likes Meghan. Hell, he liked Josh. Everyone did. My friend just knows that I have a soft spot for my dental hygienist, and that I would do just about anything to help her. That’s what friends are for, right?
“Nothing, actually. I grabbed food after I left here and dropped off a milkshake.”
Rhenn looks my way, his eyebrows shooting skyward. “Is that code for something kinky?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, which causes me to reach over and punch him in the arm.
“Fuck off. I’m not like you. I don’t sleep with my friends,” I retort, referring to an incident in college, which left Rhenn short one female friend after he slept with her and didn’t return her calls.
“Low blow, brother. I was hammered.”
“Too hammered to answer your phone? The entire week after?”
Rhenn turns away, a regretful look on his face. “Yeah, well, sometimes, it’s for the best.”
We’re both quiet as we finish out our run together and hit the weights. It’s a light day, considering we just ran three miles. (Well, I ran three miles. He ran six.)
“So, I’m going to let you off easy today, and we’re gonna skip the mat,” Rhenn says as he’s spotting my bench press.
