I jump off the elliptical and look at the clock. I’ve been down here for an hour and a half, thinking about my cheating-ass wife, masturbating, and not making a phone call to get some. Strange? What the hell is with me?
I pull my shirt off, look in the mirror, and pop my pecks as I wipe the sweat out of my hair with my tee. Man, I lov mirrored rooms. I love looking at my body. It hasn’t changed much in twenty years. My ass is still where it should be, still have a six pack and Adonis belt. I am one good looking dude.
Fuck you, Ash, I think as I make my way to the elevator.
Exiting on the top floor, I can’t stop thinking about what she has left me for. The bastard has a five-head. You know, major receding hairline so you can’t call it a forehead because it’s just too damn big. He’s a boring as hell douchebag who has no personality, and his body certainly isn’t like mine. Fucking worm. He doesn’t even carry a normal briefcase; the bitch has a man purse.
As I walk past the vending machines, I have to step back because I’m sure I saw someone sitting in the corner next to the soda machine.
“Tessa?”
She nods and covers her mouth so I don’t see the food in it. “Hey, Lucas.”
I walk over and reach out my hand. “Need some help up?”
She takes another bite of the candy bar she’s eating. “I’m good, thanks.”
I squat down in front of her. “Care to talk?”
“Nope.”
“Care if I sit here and watch you eat the rest of that candy bar?”
“You want some?” She holds it out to me.
I chuckle to myself.Do I want some? Hell yeah, I want some.
“Don’t you know it’s not polite to ask a starving man a question like that?”
She hasn’t a clue what I’m alluding to, thank God.
Slow it down, Links, I scold myself.
“Here.” She pulls another out from under her knee and hands it to me.
“If you’re hungry, you should eat some real food. Let me get you something.”
“Nope. I’m going to eat this Baby Ruth and go to bed after I crash from the sugar high.”
“Well, I’m still coming down from my adrenaline high, so I’m gonna hang here with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s just what you want to do—watch me shove junk in my mouth after you just went to the gym.” She smiles as she throws the other bar in her bag. “You suck, you know.”
“That’s not very nice.” I laugh.
“You make the rest of us feel like slackers. You still work out all the time?”
“I do, and you still eat chocolate when you’re stressed.” I laugh when she pushes me.
“It’s good to work out. Keeps you healthy.” She stands up and offers me a hand.
“I don’t do it to stay healthy.”
“Why then?” she asks as she tries to pull me up.