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But for some reason, all of that is eclipsed by helping this beautiful girl dig herself out of her dark place.
Literally and figuratively.
I wonder how she’d react if she knew I was the man who pulled her out of the dumpster a few weeks ago.
I get out of my truck and unhook my backpack from the carabiner I have tied to the headrest of my passenger seat with parachute cord, and I stick my arm through the padded strap. I hear three dings from the cell in my pocket as I make my way to the entrance of the gym, and when I pull it out to open the app with my member ID, I force myself to ignore the messages until the front desk attendant scans the barcode and I can finally give her my full attention. I set my backpack on the bench in the center of two rows of lockers in the men’s locker room, sitting down beside it and opening Kik.
WillDive4Plants:
I swear I used to work out every single day. *sighs
Two weeks to make a habit, right? Just got to start the two weeks ??
I mean, I guess I could tell myself, "You get to peek at the dude you drool over at the gym," as motivation ????
I smile at the reminder of the very first message she ever sent me. The immediate openness and honesty, confessing she’d seen me in public before and could identify me at the gym we’re both members of—she gave me the opportunity to block her, in case I wanted to take the precaution. A lot of people do this on dating apps, blocking anyone they know in “real-life,” not wanting to risk being recognized for all sorts of reasons. But just the fact that she informed me of her recognition instead of keeping it a secret… it made me want to get to know her more.
Which I know is terribly ironic and hypocritical, seeing as I haven’t told her I knew her outside of the dating app as well.
At least my reasons are honorable.
In my head, anyway.
RomanticSadistLL:
I mean, you’ve been showing up to write, so at least there's a habit of coming here ??
WillDive4Plants:
Exactly why I do it ?? See? You get me ??
“More than you even know, little one,” I murmur, seeing the dots dancing to inform me she’s typing once again.
WillDive4Plants:
Sidenote, because my meds haven't kicked in yet: I want to know how the fuck Lowe's keeps all their crotons out in full sun on concrete all day, but when I bring the little fuckers home and try to put them in full sun, they croak. Such bullshit.
My response is automatic, and I wince, hoping it doesn’t make her connect any dots between me and the man from the dumpster.
RomanticSadistLL:
LOL fresh trucks, babe! Plants are only out in “full sun” for a couple of days at most, and they’re watered every night at the store. Then people take them home and follow the watering suggestions on the tag, which is like once a week. So the plants go into shock. Especially crotons, which don’t take being moved very well to begin with. Hard to establish them. Don’t even bother trying to transplant them.
WillDive4Plants:
Well that makes me feel way better ?? And also, I’m so hot for you right now. ?? Talk planty to me.
I know she’s joking, but the mere thought of making her hot and her someday being confident enough to admit it to me in a message makes my cock swell inside my workout shorts. Which doesn’t go away in the slightest when I see her next message pop up, and it’s a video.
“I… am going into the gym,” she says matter-of-factly, her eyebrows raised in determination as she sits in her car. “And not only am I going into the gym, but I… am going to go up the stairs.” Her stern face wavers a bit, and she lets out a nervous giggle. The movement allows me to see out her window and that she’s in the parking lot. “And once I get up those Godforsaken stairs… I’m gonna work out.” She nods once. “That’s what I’m gonna do.” She winces. “I’m gonna do it.” She snorts and then gives a big grin to the camera. “’Kay, here I go.”
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face at her silliness. Not to mention the fact that she took a video speaking to me directly. She’s never done that before. Yes, she’s sent links to various TikToks she’s made, but this… it’s her first time talking to me with her voice.
I watch it again… and again. She looks different. Her hair is in a long, damp ponytail, not in the wild messy bun she always wore when I saw her rescuing plants, and not down and curled to perfection like in her profile picture—her professional author photo. It means not only did she get dressed today, but she also felt up to at least showering and washing her hair. Her face is makeup-free, and she’s in a simple black tank top, so no unnecessary, extra effort has been made as far as I can tell from the short video, but I know damn well how monumental the steps she did take this morning are.
