7
CALEB
I let go of the rubber hand grips, letting two-hundred pounds of weight drop slam back into the stack behind the weight machine. Then I leaned forward, and took a deep breath while stretching out my biceps to alleviate the hot burn that crept through my muscles.
“You’re just a little rusty because you haven’t been coming in enough,” Aaron said, chucking a fresh white towel in my direction. I caught it, even though it meant flexing the same muscle that were throbbing in my arms, and I used the towel to dust off the fresh glaze of sweat that had formed over my head and shoulders.
“The more you lift, the easier it gets my friend,” Aaron said, as he slapped me on the back and chucked his own towel into the hamper and strode across the gym to bench the pair of dumbbells he’s hoisted up.
Aaron Richie was one of the first neighbors I met here at The Camden, and he was probably my closest friend in the building. He had made his fortune young when he launched a tech startup out of his garage in Queens. The company spread like wildfire, and after a few years in business (and a billion in profits), he sold off his shares in the company and retired early.
Aaron still invested here and there, but his main passion in life was fitness. The Camden’s private gym was basically his kingdom, and I would almost always find him polishing off a set of bicep curls at the weigh rack or lecturing one of the new guys on the merits of high-intensity interval training at the treadmill.
Aaron was spending so much time at the gym that he finally decided to launch his own personal training business last year. He didn’t do it for the money. In fact, he didn’t even bother charging most of the guys here at The Camden. Aaron just did it because he loved working out.
I was his first client, and Aaron helped me create a fitness routine that fit in with my busy work schedule. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been the best about keeping my routine lately and now my stiff muscles were the price I had to pay.
“Talk to me, Caleb,” Aaron said, swinging around a chair and sitting down to face me.
“What?”
“Something’s on your mind. I can tell when someone isn’t focused.”
“It’s nothing,” I said dismissively. “Just the usual, family stuff, life stuff.”
“Ok,” Aaron said, refusing to give up. “Start with the family stuff.”
I let out a heavy breath and shifted around on the weight bench, stretching my arms out again.
“The family stuff…” my voice trailed off, and I shook my head. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I don’t charge by the hour,” Aaron joked. “Is this about your sister?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Calista.”
I’ve tried to explain the strange dynamic between my sister and I before, and I was actually touched that Aaron remembered.
“She’s not doing too well. I don’t know if it’s drugs or alcohol or both, maybe. All I know is that I got a phone call a few days ago, telling me that my niece has nowhere to go if I don’t take her in.”
“Damn,” Aaron shook his head. “How’s the kid handling it?”
“She seems to be doing well,” I shrugged. “Better than she should be, considering the circumstances, I guess. But I don’t know, I guess I just feel in over my head. I’ve never really been around kids before.”
“That’s not true,” Aaron protested. “You’re great with Morgan.”
“That’s different,” I shrugged, and recalled the last time I had seen Aaron’s daughter, Morgan. “Spending a few minutes talking to a kid is a lot different than raising one.”
“You made quite an impression on Morgan,” Aaron said with a shrug. “She named one her Ken dolls after you.”
“Really?” I looked up, surprised. Aaron nodded.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he added quickly. “Fatherhood isn’t easy and things have been especially tough since everything that went down between Morgan’s mother and I.”
He was referring to his messy divorce from Morgan’s mother, a former supermodel whom Aaron had loved and adored, right up until he found her in bed with another man. The divorce had left Aaron cynical towards love, but had only strengthened his resolve to be a good father for Morgan. He talked about her all the time.
“Anyway,” he said quickly, “I always thought you’d be a good dad.”
“Why?” I ask, stunned.
“Just a hunch,” Aaron shrugged. “Some people seem like they’re cut out to be fathers and you always seemed like one of those guys to me.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. I was surprised, maybe even partially flattered. But there was something about raising kids that also made me a bit nervous.
The idea of fatherhood has crossed my mind a few times, but after growing up and watching my family shatter, I never trusted myself to start a family. I didn’t like making promises that I couldn’t keep, and I felt like starting a family was the ultimate promise. I wasn’t sure I could trust myself to make a promise that big.
“Maybe you’ll feel differently once you’ve met the right person.”
Immediately my mind went to Daisy. I remembered how stunning she looked the other night, her blonde hair in loose waves and her blue eyes reflecting the want that I felt for her. I remembered how she felt in my arms, how her lips tasted. I felt myself get hard just imagining how good her body would taste. I shifted around on the weight bench awkwardly.
Maybe I should have used more restraint that night. Maybe I should have held back, or kept things platonic between us. I was tempted by beautiful women on a daily basis, and I have no problem saying no. I don’t know what made Daisy Wright any different. I don’t know why I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. Why I felt so certain that I needed her. And I don’t know why watching her rush out of my apartment left me feeling so confused and conflicted.
All I knew is that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since then.
I had to see her again.