Hopefully, I can schedule some visits once we get back from New York.
I text Tiffany.
Julie 8:23 AM: hey, help me look at houses when I get back?
Tiffany 8:25 AM: sure thing, doll. And where am I meeting you at today?
Julie 8:27 AM: Just show your pass to the front doors, and we have a table somewhere inside. I know there’s a bar. Can meet you there!
I feel relieved that Tiffany is coming tonight. I managed to get her a pass when I made a few calls and explained my situation of Jeremy passing and how this would mean a lot to her.
Mentioning Ryder as my champion also helped, I’m sure.
Tiffany couldn’t get a flight until later, and she declined my offer to share rooms in favor of renting a place for a week in New York.
And I get that. I’m happy she’s able to make it at all, hoping that being away from Connellsville will be the break she needs. She’s just as excited as I am to see Jeremy’s name appear tonight at the gala. I included a picture of him and me—when the gym first opened—for the presentation.
Maybe the two of us can find some closure tonight.
* * *
The gala opens its doors at six o’clock, and by four, I have yet to hear from Ryder or anyone other than Andrew telling me to meet them down at the lobby by five-fifty.
Idohate this part about blurring these lines, though. No matter how much I pad my mental fortitude, I’m stuck wondering if Ryder’s silence is a signal of regret. And while I don’t know this side of him yet, I also know that the mandoeshave a lot of pressure, and we aren’t even sleeping together, let alone an actual couple.
Sighing, I compartmentalize and place all that to the side. I need to represent my brother’s gym tonight. At fucking Warlord, no less. I can do right by Jeremy.
So, I shower, style my hair, and put on my outfit, all the while listening to a murder mystery podcast to keep Ryder at bay, who grows like a weed in the deepest crevices of my mind.
Turning off the podcast, I glance at my ensemble in silence.
Dressing professionally is for the gym, but having a shoulder-less dress and taking the extra time on my hair and make-up is to watch Ryder squirm. If he’s still all in, then I want to rile him up, so he’ll have no option but to ravish me the second he gets the chance.
With a belly full of anxious butterflies, I leave my hotel room when the clock on my nightstand shows it’s almost six.
Once in the lobby, the anxious butterflies climax into a whirling tornado when I spot fans sitting by a TV, watching the gala from afar.I’m probably going to be on that screen at some point. Especially being near Ryder.
The moment becomes real: Jeremy’s gym actually gets to be onthebig screen. How bittersweet it is to see such a dream realized, only for the dreamer to be carried as a memory…
“I miss you, bro,” I whisper while staring at a fake plant.
Don’t cry.
Tonight is about living in the present. I’m still here, and so is the gym. I can miss Jeremy, and also be happy for myself, all in the same breath.
I exhale.
Strutting forward with my head held high, I spot Andrew near the hotel entrance, the front door opening and closing as people pass through. I spot Ryder a few feet away, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, his gaze focused ahead as he observes those around.
No matter what, this is stillourchampionship.
I examine his outfit right away, eager to see what delicious attire that man has on—he wears a fitted, modern suit with black dress shoes that shine in the hotel light, a black shirt and tie to create a dark, clean, and elegant presentation. It’s the kind of suit that someone wears for a fashion photoshoot to appear suave without emanating that they work at a bank.
His short hair is lightly gelled, his face shaven, and a dark watch glints on his left wrist that ties it all together.
Well, goddamn. He cleans up.
The butterflies slowly turn into a flapping hurricane, not having considered thathisoutfit would makemesquirm.
