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"She has a boyfriend," I admit.
"Whoa… what?" he asks, turning to me quickly.
I guess I could have worded that differently.
"They're not together right now… they broke up when he moved to Australia temporarily. But now he's coming back and they're getting back together."
"But they're not together right now, correct?"
"No, they're not. Not until he gets back in a couple of weeks."
He grabs his keys, towel and water bottle off the floor.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"I'm headed back to the hotel. We got in a good workout, and you have somewhere to be."
"Oh yeah? Where's that?"
"At home, convincing this girl not to get back together with her ex."
He turns and starts to walk away with all the items he brought in with him.
"Silas, I don't want a relationship. I'm not cut out to give her what she needs," I call out after him.
He turns back around to face me.
"You're scared that you're going to fall in love with her, and then she'll leave you for someone else," he says.
I cross my arms over my chest, not liking his analysis of the situation. I never told him about Josslin but I suspect he's pieced together enough of it in order to come up with that conclusion.
This isn't the kind of conversation I want to have at the gym… or anywhere for that matter. The gym is supposed to be my escape. The place where I sweat out whatever is bothering me and then walk out those doors like nothing ever happened.
When I don't answer him back, he speaks up again.
"Or maybe it's too late. Maybe you're already in love with her, in which case, you don't have much of a choice now. Win her over or let her go—those are the options. Which one can't you live with?"
Then he turns and walks towards the exit, giving the receptionist a wave before he pushes through the glass doors.
His question hangs in the air and I don't have to dig very far to find the answer.
Unfortunately, there's more to this equation— an entire second half… her.
What does she want?
The lawyer with the normal life and the steady job, who's rising up the law firm's corporate ladder and who she's spent the last eight years of her life with?
Or a broke-down hockey player with only a couple of seasons left before his body can't handle anymore, who's out of town half the year playing in different cities and sees his future on a fish boat in Mexico and his weekends doing little chores around Scallywag's to keep busy.
Picking up my water bottle, I drop it in my duffle bag before swinging it over my shoulder and heading for the exit.
The receptionist gives me a small wave and tells me to have a nice day, and I do the same. I push through the glass doors and head for my Jeep.
I guess there's only one way to find out if this thing between us is still just a fling, or if it's turning into more.
I'll have to ask her.
As soon as the Jeep is parked inside the garage, I whip open the driver-side door, jump out, and head straight for the house.
