CHAPTER 11
HUDSON
The clangof the weights echoes through the gym as Jett lets his bar drop onto the pads beside him. He wipes his face with the towel slung over his shoulder as he wanders over to where I’m seated, having finished a set of bicep curls.
Jett and I have been working out together all summer, but there is no way I can pretend to keep up with him. His coach has him following a strict training regimen before they start gearing up for ski season in the fall. I tried to get through one of his workouts and almost died.
No amount of protein smoothies is going to give me the level of stamina Jett has. His body, while smaller than mine, is pure lean muscle—the dude’s quads are ripped; they have to be to absorb the impact of the jumps he takes.
“How’re things with Emma?” Jett asks, only slightly out of breath in between sets. When we’re at the gym is the only time Jett and I have serious conversations. It’s become like therapy. Though sometimes, when we’re going through it,we work out in silence, taking our anger or whatever other pent-up emotion out on the dumbbells.
“Good,” I say before throwing my head back and squirting water into my open mouth.
“Good as in …” Jett’s voice trails off.
“We haven’t hooked up or anything.” I’m not too sure why, but I haven’t felt a physical connection with Emma. Not that she isn’t gorgeous. I’mattractedto her—anyone would be—I just haven’t felt a spark. The electric energy. I’ve only felt it once before—that magnetic pull, that static electricity crackling in the air—and I fear that one time ruined me for all other women.
“Dude, comeon. Is it getting serious? Like do you have feelings for her?”
My mind stalls.
“I don’t know, I don’t—no.” Fuck, what am I saying? “I don’t meanno. It’s too early to tell. We’ve only been out twice, very casually. We went for dinner last night and it was good, it’s just too early.” I don’t want to write Emma off yet, and I can’t think of any good reason why I would.
“You better make up your mind soon, otherwise she’s going to have needs only I can fill, if you get what I’m saying.” Jett punches me in the arm as he moves past me to get on the treadmill. The guy lifts for an hour and then finishes his workout with casual interval sprints. I’m tired thinking about it. The firehall keeps me fit—I have to maintain a certain level of fitness to do my job—and I like the way I look, but Jett is on another level.
He also has no problem picking up women. His body is 65percent muscle and 30 percent charisma. The other 5 percent is straight up cocky asshole.
I doubt Emma would even be interested in him, but who knows for sure. I’m sure Jett would have some pick-up line that would do the trick. For some reason, the thought of them getting together doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t make me jealous, it doesn’t make me angry, there’s … nothing.
I think back to a few months ago, when Jett and I were at Grady’s house and he teased me about still having feelings for Wren, the way he always does. He crossed a line and said if Wren ever came back to town, he might see if he’s got a shot, and it made me see red.
Why I’ve defended Wren for so long is beyond me. Why I agreed to help her is also beyond me. But being in Wren’s presence throws me right back in time, and seeing her so dejected, so distraught, I revert back to the boy who would do anything for her.
Poppy’s words have been an endless loop in my brain ever since our conversation outside the café. I can’t shake the thought that perhaps Wren still feels something … even if that’s anger, Poppy might have a point. Anger is very different than feeling nothing at all. Anger means there’s still a part of you that cares.
If that’s true … I pick my phone up off the floor next to the bench I’m sitting on and check it for an e-mail notification. I’ve checked it a million times today. I worry my teasing has pushed Wren too hard, that if she has changed so fundamentally, in so many ways, maybe she’s changed in this way as well. She might not get the same thrill I do over playing games. But the look in her eye when I suggested we compete for the project lead role was enough to tell me that deep down, Wren is still Wren. And she’ll never back down from a good challenge.
It’s that spark she’s always had that has gotten her so far in life and in her career. Her competitive nature has spurred her on all these years. Her drive to prove her worth.
I, on the other hand, poured my competitive nature into games, trying to one up Cole or Jett, but never at anything serious. It’s not that I never cared about bettering myself, but it’s hard to stay motivated when you don’t have the means to get to where you want to go. It was easier, and less stressful, if I didn’t take things too seriously.
I allowed myself to be content with what I had instead. Sure, I didn’t go to a prestigious university—I worked my way up the ladder in a reputable construction company, I trained with the firehall. I help people in all sorts of different ways, whether that’s building them the home of their dreams or saving it from a raging fire, and that makes me happy.
There are no new notifications on my phone when I pick it up, and I don’t bother trying to decipher why my heart sinks in my chest. It’s not worth the mental energy of trying to figure it out. I’m supposed to be getting over Wren. I have a great opportunity to make something work with Emma. Wren has not given me any indication of wanting to explore our past feelings. So why am I about to sabotage this new relationship?
I get up to leave the gym and let Jett know on my way past his treadmill that I’m going to shower at home. Usually working out helps me clear my head, but today I’m leaving even more confused, even more conflicted. Myenergy is uneasy the whole walk back to my apartment, and the quiet is unnerving once I finish showering.
It doesn’t help that Ruby is giving me the stink-eye from her cushion because I haven’t taken her for her walk yet.
“Message received, girlfriend,” I say. “Walkies?”
Her ears instantly perk up and her head tilts to one side—I love it when she does that. Like she understands me, like we’re communicating. I always joke that Ruby is the only girl I need in my life, but it’s the little moments where we understand each other that I think it might be true.
I’m about to clip her leash on when I get a notification makes my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I hold my breath for a moment while I fish it out.
My shoulders sag slightly when I see the name on the screen.
EMMA
