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“I thought your school was nut-free?”
“Itis. That’s what’s so frustrating. The latest thing is banning anything involving dairy for anyone with a Cow Milk Protein Allergy.”
“That’s not a contact allergy.” I know that because we had to look into shit like that for the café at the gym.
“Yeah. I know. People were getting up in arms, saying the food police were trying to take away their coffee and chocolate.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Enough about my shit. I have to deal with it all day. I don’t want to dwell on it now. How about you?”
“Warring trainers.”
“Huh?”
Sighing, I drain my beer. “Two of my trainers are fighting because one thinks the other is poaching her clients.”
“How fun for you.”
Rolling my eyes, I grin and walk back to the bar for more beers. As the bartender is pulling them, Mo walks up to our table.
“Make that three,” I call to the guy. He nods, reaching for a third glass.
Mo grins, accepting the beer I place in front of him. Trey immediately takes a long pull, mischief dancing in his eyes. That’s not a fun look for me. It usually means they’re about to gang up on me.
“I’ve got the perfect girl for you, man,” Mo nods to me. “She’s right up your alley.”
Christ. Not again. Why are they always trying to set me up on dates? They are all single too.
“Why don’tyouask her out?”
Mo’s nose wrinkles. “She’s...sporty.”
He says it like it’s a dirty word. Trey roars with laughter while I glower at them.
“Trey is sporty. He teaches gym.”
“She hates kids.”
“Oh, perfect. So does Trey.”
He flips me off. “Only the ones I teach.”
“Not interested, man. I’m too busy for a relationship now.”
I’m not even kidding. I live for the gym. Maybe in a few years, once I’ve established it and feel comfortable being away from it for longer than two days at a time, but not right now.
“You’ll end up alone,” Trey warns. I flip him off.
“I’m rich. Finding someone won't be hard when I’m ready to date.” It might be a dick thing to say, but it’s not exactly a lie.
“That’s a lame attitude to have.”
“Maybe, but it’s true.”
“Okay, you don’t want to be set up. Fine. Let’s get another round.” Mo drains his drink, standing to buy the next round.
“You might not want to date, but you can still have some fun,” Trey drawls, nodding over my shoulder. Craning my neck, I catch sight of a table full of women in tight, short dresses having a night out. A few are glancing over, giggling, and eyeing Trey, who raises his almost empty drink in their direction.
