AllFreeNovel
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Back at the house, I head straight downstairs for the gym. As the house is on a slope, the front part of the basement has beautiful floor to ceiling windows and sliding doors. While the house is not finished, they currently give out onto views of piled lumber and sand, and stores of building materials. The glass can dim to one-way, but the contractors have already left for today so I let the sunshine pour in.
I drop my clothes on the floor as I cross the room and I pick up a pair of shorts, a loose tee and a vest from the shelves. Tension and nervous energy still course through me.
For forty minutes straight I run, almost flat out on the treadmill. Then I do a few reps of pull ups and crunches, and I pump the spin bike like I’m racing for my life.
Jumping from one to the other, I work free weights in between until I’m pretty well ready to drop. My body is tired, but inside I still feel like I’m on an electric grid.
My arms feel heavy and weary like they’re sandbagged, but I strap on boxing mitts and pummel the hanging bag until I can’t do it any more.
I’m too tired and out of breath to even sit. I take water bottle from the table-top fridge and pace around gasping, drinking, and pouring the bottle over my head. Then I get another bottle and do the same again until I flop down onto a bench.
I’m practically unable to move or co-ordinate for two or three minutes, but the flashing, jittery rage in my mind has not calmed or quietened down. Questions torment me and chase and spin my head with things I wish I’d said or done, things that have driven me mad, and a whole lot of other manias that I can’t do a damned thing about.
When I finally find the energy to run myself a bath, I take a bottle of cold champagne and a carton of Ben & Jerry’s chocolate chip cookie dough in with me. I shower first, feeling wrung out from head to toe.
Then, as soon as I sink into the hot tub and I’m peeling the top off the ice cream, my phone rings from under my pile of gym clothes, right across the bathroom. I’m able to shout to get the AI to answer the call, but I can’t hear the voice from the little speaker.
From the sounds and the tone I think I recognize Carlo.
I try shouting across the room, “Carlo. Is that you?”
There’s a response but I can’t make out a word of it.
I shout again. “I’m in the bathtub. I can’t hear you. I’ll call you back in a minute.”
There’s more noise that I can’t decipher.
“Wait.” I can’t stand it. I haul myself up, out of the water and patter across the tiled floor. When I get to the phone, it’s hung up. The phone won’t recognize my wet fingerprint, and it can’t identify my wet face, so I have to give it my code with my slippery wet fingers to get it to unlock.
It was Carlo. I call him straight back. And I go straight to voicemail. He’s calling me. I get a FaceTime alert. I try to accept, but the phone keeps slipping in my hands.
When I’m finally able to accept the call, I’m holding the phone in both hands and it’s down by my pussy.
“Oh,” at last I can hear Carlo’s voice, at least. “Shock video sexting?” His laugh rattles the phone’s tinny speaker. “At least you’re wet for me, even if it’s only with sudsy bathwater.”
Looking at the little pic of my pale and bedraggled self in the corner of my screen, I am absolutely not looking my best. Carlo is a sight to make my heart jump, though. Especially with his face screwed up in a hysterical laugh.
His taught, lean body, cut and sinuous, flexing in just a pair of white shorts.
“Let me finish my bath and I’ll call you.”
“No, you look fantastic. I love to see you dripping wet. Seriously.” he protests, “You’re making me rock hard. At least let me stay and talk with you. I can join you for the bath.”
“I look like a drowned mutt.”
“You look like my beautiful queen.”
“Carlo.”
“It’s true. No matter what happens, there’s nothing I want to see more than you.”
Now I’m melting on the inside as well as the outside.
“Le me soak for twenty minutes and wash away the day I just had, then I’ll call you, okay?”
“Sounds rough.”
“I’ll tell you all about it. How’s Bruno?”
