Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(12)

While the rest of my life spiraled into chaos, the one aspect I seemed to be able to control was keeping in shape. Five to six days a week, I went to the gym, rotating my workouts between my upper and lower body. And I could still knock out three miles in a little less than twenty-five minutes. Not bad for a guy about to turn thirty.

I wiped the sweat from my face and neck with my towel and made my way over to the chest fly machine. “That’s a ton of weight, isn’t it?” an airy voice asked from behind me as I leaned over to move the pin lower on the weights. “Two hundred pounds? Are you gonna lift all that?”

I turned around to see a cute blonde standing behind me. “That’s the plan,” I said. As she reached back to adjust her long hair she had tied up in a ponytail, her tits rose higher on her chest. Images of how my hands would fit perfectly around them flitted through my brain. Of course, I couldn’t be sure without checking. I felt my lips spread into a slight smirk at the thought. As I sat on the bench, I made no effort to conceal my wandering eyes as they traveled up the length of her legs to her tight black shorts. Fuck, she’s hot. The thought of taking her back to my place for a post-workout shower crossed my mind. And judging by the way she was biting her lower lip as she watched me exercise, my proposition wouldn’t even be a hard sell. I can’t wait to have my teeth on that lip later.

“I’m finishing up here,” she said. “Just gotta stretch.” And as she leaned forward to loosen up her hamstrings, I imagined licking the sweat that glistened between her breasts.

This is too goddamn easy. “Yeah, me too. Two more sets here, and I’m done.” I rushed through the rest of my reps and extended a hand as I finished my second set. “I’m Max, by the way.”

“Max,” she said with a playful smile as she took my hand in hers, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.” But I wasn’t prepared for the next words out of her mouth, and as she said them, her warm hand felt like ice against my skin. “I’m Lily.”

Oh, you’ve gotta be f*ckin’ kidding me.

***

Needless to say, I got the hell out of there as quickly as possible. I wasted no time wiping off my machine, grabbing my water bottle, and bolting to my car without so much as a goodbye. As I sped home, I wondered what the f*ck had happened to me. A name shouldn’t matter. Half the time I didn’t remember their names anyway.

But she shared a name I couldn’t forget. And there was no way I was taking Lily back to my house and into my bed. Well, let me rephrase that. There was no way I was taking that Lily back to my house and into my bed.

But the other Lily—the real Lily—she was another story. She could come in my bed anytime she wanted to. Literally. And I’d pictured that plenty of times: her under me, on top of me, in front of me screaming my f*cking name as I made her shake with pleasure. But that was all I had of her: old memories and stale visions that I feared would begin to disintegrate with time.

I had gone months without speaking to her, and then when I’d finally heard from her last week I'd been a complete *. Fuck, why had I been so rude? I’d blown her off, and I was sure she’d heard Stephanie or Sophie or whatever the f*ck her name was in the background. To make matters worse, Lily had texted me over the weekend to say she’d only been trying to help and she was sorry if she’d upset me. There was no denying I’d been a complete dick. But I didn’t need her help or her f*cking sympathy, and I’d gotten defensive.

Finally home, I turned on the shower and stepped out of my boxers, allowing the cool air from the vent to brush against my body for a moment. When I slid open the shower door and stepped under the steaming water, I knew I needed to wash more than just the sweat from myself. I needed to wash away the guilt I felt for how I’d treated her.

***

I was surprised when Lily picked up on the second ring because I half expected her to let it go to voicemail. “Hello,” she said quietly. Maybe she didn’t look to see who it was before picking up.

“Uh . . . hey, Lily. It’s Max.”

“I know. Your name came up on my phone.”

Fucking idiot. “Oh, right. Listen, about the other day . . .” I let my voice trail off in the hopes that she’d pick up where I left off and relieve me of my embarrassment. She didn’t. When silence lingered between us, I forced myself to speak again. “I shouldn’t have hung up. I mean, I should’ve let you talk. You can talk now.” I knew as soon as I said that last sentence, it had come out wrong.

“Really, can I? Thanks.”

Damn. I knew I deserved every bit of sarcasm that she delivered, but that didn’t stop the sting. Not knowing what the hell to say to change the direction of the conversation, I stayed quiet and hoped she’d fill the silence this time.

“Look, we don’t need to make this conversation any longer than it has to be. I just wanted to tell you there’s an opportunity for you to be a guest analyst on TV. Did your agent tell you that? It could turn into something big. Something permanent. Don’t be stupid, Max.”

“Too late,” was all I managed to force out. God, I really had a way with words today. “Listen, I’ll think about it. Things have been . . . uh, crazy lately.”

“Crazy? How crazy can things be? You’re not working. What have you been doing?” Her voice was accusatory.