I cannot even begin to describe the sexual frustration I am feeling as I leave Laurel’s apartment this morning. She’s acting shy and embarrassed about last night –a sort of demeanor that I did not think was possible on her. This morning she had jumped up quick to throw on a shirt, but she had made me breakfast. I’m not sure what to make of that. She won’t look me in the eye, and she seems really flustered, yet she still made me pancakes.

We eat breakfast together, and I don’t talk about what went down last night. I just smile at her. Alex gave me a few days off work, but I know Laurel will still be heading out to the gym this morning. I decide not to overstay my welcome –it’s kind of obvious she is confused about whether or not she wants me to stay or leave. “Thanks for breakfast, Laurel,” I say in the kindest voice I can muster.

“Of course,” she says, staring down at her plate to avoid looking at me. She’s sitting at her kitchen table across from me, playing with her food. “Listen,” she says, “I’d invite you to stay, but I’m about to get ready to meet the other girls at the gym.”

“I understand,” I say and rise from my seat, grabbing my plate to put it away in her sink. I haven’t put my shirt back on; I suppose that would have made her slightly more comfortable if I had done that. I search for it, and I hurry to get it back on. She’s still sitting at her table, scraping her fork slightly against her plate to make it seem like she’s actually eating. I can’t help myself. I come up behind her and lean over her, draping my arms over her shoulder. “I’ll get out of here so you can get ready,” I say, but I don’t leave just yet. I trace my lips across the back of her neck, and I can feel her tense up in my arms. “I hope you had fun last night; I know I did. You’re one of a kind, you know that?” I tickle her neck, and she arches her back.

“Uhg….” She groans slightly, but then she pulls forward and out of my reach. “Um… yes, yes, last night was nice.”

I smile, and I pull away from her. We say our goodbyes, and she walks me to the door. I’m pleased that I do get a kiss from her before leaving. So far, it’s shaping out to be a pretty decent day.

The day went by pretty quickly; tonight, I’m going out with the guys at one of our old hangouts. We haven’t been in a while –not since I joined AA. I won’t be drinking, of course, but I could use a night out. Because money has been so tight, I haven’t been enjoying myself much. Tyler and I take the birth control mobile since his car is still in the shop. We meet Marty and Bobby at this hole in the wall bar; Tyler and I head inside, and we see that Bobby and Marty have already found a booth and are pretending it’s not awkward that I hadn’t been there to introduce them. I had invited Bobby along; he seems to be kind of a lonely guy. My bet is that his former alcoholism probably cost him a lot friends in his professional circles.

Tyler and I grab a seat; I sit beside Bobby in the booth and across from Tyler. “What’s up?” I say Tyler and I grab a seat, and I’m pleased to see that Bobby and Marty are actually conversing as we arrive. As a boxing fan, Bobby is able to hold a conversation of similar interest with Marty.

“Honestly, man,” I hear Marty saying, “I can’t believe you’ve seen my matches. I mean, I’m not Jonathan Trial,” he winks at me slightly.

“Are you kidding? That match against you and Lettermen was insane!”

My God –we are literally just hanging out with our fanboy. Tyler raises a brow, “Have you seen any of my matches?”

Bobby frowns. “Sorry, man,” he says, and Marty and I laugh. It’s been a running joke that Tyler is not a real boxer; he’s still in the amateur leagues.

“Whatever,” Tyler gripes.

A server comes and takes our drink orders; Bobby and I both order waters. “Damn alcoholics,” Marty grumbles while he and Tyler argue over which pitcher to split.

“Easy, Marty,” Tyler says, “Trust me –I’m not letting Jonathan anywhere near our booze. And if you’ve got shit to say about that, I’ll send him home with you and let him puke all over your carpet tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Amy would just love that,” I say, referring to Marty’s girl. “She still out of town?” I ask.

“Nah. She just got back last night. She’s still passed out –jetlag,” he says and then grins. “So, check this out,” he reaches into his pocket and plops a small ring box on the table.

“Oh, shit!” Tyler says somewhat excitedly.

“Congratulations,” both Bobby and I say.

I grab the ring box, “I got to see this. You and I both know Amy’s got expense taste,” I open up the ring box, and it’s a big, gaudy thing. “Yeah, she’ll like that,” I say before tossing the box back to Marty.

“Speaking of girls,” Tyler says, eager to change the subject before we start asking him about his awkward single life, “What are we doing for Mary –are we still doing something, or were we just blowing smoke?”

“Oh, we’re doing something,” Marty says.

“Who’s Mary?” Bobby asks, and we pause for a moment to tell him all about our missing wheel –Gabe. I’m sure he pieces together that Gabe is the friend I spoke about at AA, and he looks sad for all of us when we tell him about our deceased, younger companion and his even younger sister.

“So,” I say once we tell him about Gabe, “we want to do something special for her birthday. She’s going to be eight, and it’s her first birthday without Gabe.”

Bobby smiles, “I have a thought. Is she into the whole princess thing?”

“Are you kidding?” Marty laughs, “The girl’s room is nothing but toy castles, unicorns, pink tiaras, and Disney shit.”

“All right, well, there’s this company down the street from my firm. It’s a costume rental store…” Bobby grins, “I bet she’d love to see a couple of Disney prince’s show up to a birthday party.”

The three of us look at each other. “I’m not putting on a fucking costume,” Tyler says quickly.

“Fuck that idea,” Marty says, “could you imagine if someone saw us? That shit would be on Youtube, and then I’d really have my ass kicked up at the gym.”

“Yeah,” I say, “but Marty would really love that. I could image Gabe giving us all hell about it and laughing his ass off.”

“Why you got to say it like that, man?” Tyler grumbles and sinks down in his seat. “Okay, we’ll leave that idea on the table –for now.”

“Jonathan!” I hear a familiar voice shouting from across the bar.

I look up, and I see Damion waddling his old ass over to us. I smile and stand up to give the old fuck a hug. “Damion, what’s up?” I say to my former trainer. I find it weird that he’d be at a bar; he’s so damn old, but I digress.

“Man, you don’t ever come see me,” he says.

“You kicked me out of your gym, you asshole,” I say, but I’m friendly.

“Oh my God!” I hear Bobby practically squeal. “You’re Damion –The Mason!”

Shit. Damion hates that old nickname. Back in his boxing days, Damion was notorious for cornering his competitors –the announcers started calling it “corner-stoning” which ultimately led to Damion being called The Mason. “Who’s the fucking fanboy?” Damion asks.

I laugh, “Damion, this is my buddy, Bobby.”

Bobby practically jumps up out of the booth so that he can shake Damion’s hand. I can see Marty and Tyler trying hard not to laugh at the poor guy. “Your match between Muhammad Ali was the first match my dad took me to as a kid,” he says excitedly.

“Really?” Damion cringes, “I had my ass kicked at that one, kid. Thanks for reminding me.”

“Oh, well, you know…” Bobby blushes, and we all have a laugh.

We invite Damion to sit down with us, and he shrugs. “I’m too old to party with you kids anymore,” he says, “This old fart is headed home.”

“I hear you, Damion,” Tyler laughs.

“Listen, Jonathan, I don’t want to get your hopes up or anything…” Damion turns to look at me before he can head out, “but there’s this manager I’ve been talking to. He’s kind of low-key, but I just might be able to get you in.”

“Damion, are you serious?” I question; I’m sure the excitement is plastered all over my face.

“Easy, kid,” Damion says, “it’s a big maybe. Would you be interested?”

“Of course!” I say.

“All right. I’ll see what I can do.” Damion turns to leave. “Behave yourselves, fellas.”

I sit back down by Bobby; the guys are all grinning at me. “That’s awesome!” Bobby exclaims, “And I’ve been making some calls for you about clearing up your record. Plus, I’m going to start putting those media nuts through the wringer. Hopefully, I’ll be able to help on the PR side of things.”

“Where did you find this guy?” Marty questions, and I just laugh.

I can’t really focus on anything else we talk about tonight; the thought of being able to box again is on the forefront of my mind.