CHAPTER THREE
CHARLIE
There is nothing a little sweat can’t cure, be it fucking or working out. Right now was the latter, but I had the former on my mind. This was standard protocol for any night I wasn’t working: hit the gym to let the muscles get swole, then hit the bars to the get the ladies wet. Hauling your buddy five miles through the desert will make sure you’re jacked for life, but there is no such thing as being too big. In any respect.
“Fuck, I’m tired.” Rudolph collapsed next to me.
"That's because you're a slacker, you asshole." I smacked his arm with my towel. "Can't get the girls if you don't put in the work."
"Maybe I'm over girls. Maybe I just want to die alone. Alone and fat." Rudolph, one of my closest friends, draped himself over the bench and stared at the ceiling. "Go on without me, Vermont. I'm not worth it."
"I don't remember you being this annoying in the sand box."
"I was. You just couldn't hear it over the shells."
"Fair enough."
I picked up a heavier set of weights and started curls. After my first set of reps, I turned and cocked an eyebrow. "Et tu?"
"Fuck, I hate you." Rudolph muttered. But he got up and picked up the next sized weights with a smirk. "Done dying. Now I'll kick your ass."
"No one kicks my ass." Back in high school? Maybe. Definitely. Then the Marines created a finely-honed machine out of that chubby mass and rendered me indestructible. Falling out of windows couldn’t even kill me.
"Speaking of kicking your ass." Rudolph finished his set and dropped the weights with a heavy thud. "You know that guy whose girl you banged the other night?"
"Christ." I pointedly jumped into my next set, glaring. "I do have a code of fucking honor left. I didn't know she was shacked up and she was all over my balls for like a week."
He picked up his weights and tried to match me. Fat chance. "Well, her ball and chain is that asswipe from Sigma Phi, Brad whats-his-nuts. He's talking some mad shit around campus."
"What is this, junior high? I don't give a shit what he has to say."
"He's saying he threw you out of the window."
I paused mid-rep as my body turned molten. My reflection looked so murderous the little dude three benches away moved down two more. I counted to five and resumed my reps, pouring out my frustration into the weights. "He wishes."
"Well, that's what he's saying. I don't know that anyone buys it; you're twice his body mass. But, thought you might wanna know."
"Noted."
After I finished my reps, I racked the weights and wiped down my area. Rudolph floated into my periphery. "I'm just saying, maybe if you found a girl to chill with a while, maybe the whole campus would stop talking shit."
I gave him my best eyebrow raise and went back to wiping.
"Look man, I'm all for finding the pussy. But as your best friend, it's my duty to let you know your reputation says you're a Jody."
"Fuck yourself." I stared at the locker rooms. My next step was to shower, change, and hit the clubs in the next city over, but something stirred hot under my veins that weights couldn't cure. Alcohol was just going to make it worse, and doing that shit sober was absolutely out of the question.
"I say it out of love." Rudolph called over his shoulder and stopped when I didn't follow. "You coming?"
For some reason, that settled things. I shook my head. "Going to stay a while longer. You go."
He furrowed his brow. "You sick or something? Charlie Vermont never misses Sorority Tuesday."
"Charlie Vermont does whatever the fuck he wants." Before he could talk anymore shit, I hit the cardio room. Usually, the cardio bunnies take up all the machines, but one sat open at the end of the room next to a window. It was going to be hot as shit, which made it all the better. I needed to sweat out this venom fast. Last thing I needed was Rudolph to see me trip again and end up back in a shrink's office. Hard pass.
Out of habit, I checked out all the girls running along the row. The best, by far, belonged to the brunette set up next to me. Her stretches were so goddamn hot it was like she knew I was watching, sticking out her ass and rubbing her legs. I spent an extra minute just watching. To stave off running with a boner, I had to hit the Auto Start button without stretching. Would have been a nightmare.
The one trick I picked up from sitting in a leather chair for weeks on end was to focus on pushing out all the nasty shit in my head while running. Every pump of my legs was another bit of bullshit gone. Over and over and over.
Halfway through my warm up run, I noticed the brunette next to me was keeping pace. Impressive. Not many people could match me—and I preferred it that way. So, I upped the speed. So did she. Up again. Again she went.
Maybe my head was royally fucked. There was no way she was matching me. I pushed hard through the rest of my run, blocking everything out but the sound of my feet tearing up the belt. Normally, I'd run a solid five miles, but the sheer exertion of exorcising my demons burned me up after three and a half. I dropped the speed and walked the last half mile, wincing at the pain in my calf. That's why I get for trying to show off to the mystery girl in pink running shorts, I guess.
She sprinted to the end of her fourth mile and slapped the speed down to something more walkable. I was kicking it at an 8, but she was running on an 9. I let out a low whistle. Okay, now very impressed. I pointed to it, hoping to catch her attention. After a few seconds, she saw and yanked out her earbuds.
I'll be damned. It was the girl from the bar who was almost Sigma Phi lunchmeat. Recognition hit her at the same time, and she did that adorable staring thing again. I am pretty sexy, so couldn't blame her there.
"Not many people can beat me." I gave her a nod. "You've got some legs."
She snorted and patted herself down with a towel. My eyes followed her hands everywhere they went. "That was nothing. I just didn't want to embarrass you too badly."
"Never happens."
She nodded in a very unbelieving sort of way and went back to toying with the buttons on her treadmill.
"You'd run faster if you stopped smoking, you know."
She shook her head with a smile that hit me right in the sack. "You might actually win a race if you minded your own business."
"Who says I don't win races? I win every race."
"I kicked your ass just now."
"Didn't count. Not an official race."
"Please." She hit the stop button and wiped down her area. I was not ready to see her go. "Every sprint on the treadmill is a race. Literally everyone knows this."
"Literally everyone?" I leaned across the arm of my machine and flashed a cheeky grin. "I could go up to any person in here and they'd know it?"
Defiance colored every bit of her, which was a place I was already fantasizing about. "Any one."
"That a bet?"
She shrugged. "Sure, champ. It's a bet."
"Loser goes to dinner with me tonight." I offered my best grin, the one that made all the girls melt a little. I could already feel the evening unfolding before me.
"Guess you'll be dining alone."
Sober girls were so fascinating. They weren't as clingy, or generally easy, but she felt different than the others. Like she wanted to fall for my charms, I could clearly see it the last time we'd run into each other, but she wasn't ready to admit it. Or maybe she wanted to play her own games beyond Hard to Get. I always appreciated a good challenge.
"Either way, I win then. I'm excellent company for dinner."
"You must really love the sound of your own voice."
"Sometimes." I conceded with a wink. "I'd prefer to hear yours. Fuck the bet. Come to dinner with me anyway. This many coincidental run-ins in a week and a half? Kismet."
Her jaw hung open. "You just said the word 'kismet'."
I straightened to full height and flexed just a little. "I'm not all looks, you know. I'm also a low-level genius."
"That's not even a thing." She said.
"Very much is. There's a whole group of us, chugging away, making everyone's lives easier with our half-assery."
"Do all low-level geniuses make up words?"
"It's part of the code." I replied.
She smiled, nodded, and got off the treadmill. Walking away without a goodbye? Oh, the game was afoot. I let her walk out of the gym before chasing her down in the hallway.
"Come on. Have dinner with me."
"Can't." Something had changed in her demeanor. She went from feeling it to running from it, and that was unacceptable.
"I never specified a day. Tell me when you're open and I'll pick you up."
She hesitated just outside the door to the women's locker room, and I really thought I'd snagged her, but she just offered a small smile, one I recognized all too well, and said, "It was nice racing with you."
“At least tell me your name.” I called after her.
The door closed soundlessly, swallowing up any answer she’d have. I grabbed my bag and camped out in front of the entrance. That’s fine, I’d catch her before she left. An hour later, it was clear she'd slipped away like a ghost.