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“How?”
“You just have to give it time. You know she feels hurt.”
“Yeah, well, I do too,” he fumes. “I’ve been ignored for half a day and it’s not fun. Try having your iMessages left unread by your girl.”
I chuckle. “Never been there, never will.”
“Right. I remember you’ve got intense vaginophobia.”
“What?” I laugh. “The hell is that?”
“Fear of getting involved with women. Don’t worry, you’re not alone. Kaylee’s got the phobia for the men, too. She also hasn’t been too taken with our gender in a while.”
The memories from the art gallery come rushing back, and a rush of heat spreads all over my body, most especially between my thighs. Her warm minty breath on my skin, the silky texture of her hair in my fingers, the swollen softness of her lips…she tasted so delicious. I never wanted to pull away from her. Well, until that security guard interrupted the moment.
“Then again, I can’t blame her,” Dylan continues, breaking me out of my reverie. “It must be hard for her and no thanks to her shitty ex-husband, too. A divorce kills off your morale to date again."
I glance at Dylan sharply. He’s resumed lifting the barbell, heaving every now and then with each pull and release. I study him curiously. I need to know more about Kaylee. Not wanting to seem nosy, I try to act as casual as possible. Picking up a dumbbell, I work on it for a couple of minutes.
I break the ice by clearing my throat. “What were you saying about Kaylee's ex-husband again?”
“Oh, Logan?” Without breaking stride— to my greatest relief— Dylan answers. “Yeah, he's a total loser.” He clenches his teeth as he strains against the barbell's pull. “It’s sad Kaylee didn’t see it coming.”
"See what coming?”
“The divorce. She thought if she stayed long enough in the marriage, she could work it out. The marriage was bound to crash, anyway; honestly, I shouldn't even fault her at all. They were really obsessed with each other. I mean, they got married right out of college. Even Grandma wasn’t quite expecting it, you know? But they were in–” he grimaces, replaces the bells, and heaves himself up, “They were in love. Oh, God, you should have seen them. It was sickening in a sweet way.”
He releases a tired grunt and stands up, flexing his left arm this way and that. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a water flask. He winces as he opens it. “Fuck, I think I pulled a tendon. I’m taking a break.”
I’m still fixated on the news about Kaylee’s marriage, and I want to know more. “So, why do you think it didn't work out between them?”
He shrugs and takes a healthy swig out of the bottle. “Can't say. But with the way Logan was running it, one could have spot it a mile away.”
I knit my brows, confused. “What do you mean?”
He takes another gulp of water and continues, “Well, they had their flaws, according to the news on the grapevine. And in a way, all it did was hurt them. I never really got to know why it ended. Kaylee was very tight-lipped about that. She still is. The motherfucker must have done something. Wish I knew what it was. All I know is it was a very nasty divorce and it did a lot to my little sister.”
A ping comes from his phone and he instantly reaches over to retrieve it from his bag. The joy dies on his face and he lets out a soft curse. “You got any allergies?”
“What?”
He waves the phone in my face. “Kaylee wants to know if you’ve got any allergies. For the cake.”
I shake my head. “None.”
He types his response and replaces the phone, then looks up at me.
“Treadmill?”
Thirty minutes later, after sweating it out on the machine, we decide to call it a day. Just when we’re packing up, a notification pops up on Dylan’s phone. His face brightens and he lets out an overjoyed whistle. “It’s Jessie! She wants us to…” His voice trails off and the happiness in his blue-eyes goes dim. “Fuck.”
“What? What does she want?”
He looks up at me, dread mirroring his eyes. “She wants us to talk. At her place.”
“Oh. Right now?”
His face crumples as he nods. “That doesn't sound good, right? She’s pissed? Help me out here, man, you’re the guy for this kind of thing. What does it mean?”
