I’m lounging on my couch, phone in hand, trying to think of something witty to text Carlie.
For some reason, she pulls that side out of me. The side that wants to prove I’m more than just a muscle head who cares more about my protein intake than intelligence.
I want to see her again, soon.
Settling for simplicity over wit and type out:
I hit send before I can second-guess myself.
Let the waiting game begin.
I’m not usually this antsy about a date, but with her, everything feels different, more ... something. I can’t put my finger on it.
To distract myself, I decide to grab a coffee from ‘Bean There, Done That.’ Dylan always has a way of putting things into perspective.
I pull on a light hoodie and grab my keys, deciding a drive might help clear my head.
As I get into my car, my thoughts drift to the severance package I received from St. Mary’s. It’s a decent amount—enough to keep me afloat while I figure out my next move.
But right now, my career isn’t what’s occupying my thoughts—it’s Carlie.
Our date went well—really well, actually. But there was something in her demeanor after our kiss.
She was slightly off, almost cryptic about what she was thinking. It’s like there’s a puzzle piece I’m missing, and it’s driving me nuts not knowing what it is.
Pulling into the small coffee shop parking lot, I shake off the thoughts.
I need to focus on the here and now—and right now, that’s grabbing a coffee and shooting the breeze with Dylan.
Stepping inside, I’m greeted by the familiar, comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee. Dylan’s behind the counter, his usual confident self, but today there’s an extra spring in his step.
“Hey, Adam. I wasn’t expecting you today,” he greets with a wide grin. “Your usual?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I reply, leaning against the counter. “You look like you’re in a good mood. What’s up?”
Dylan chuckles, his eyes gleaming as he sets to work. “You might say I’m feeling hopeful. Met this woman yesterday. Blond, total knockout. Wrote my number on her cup. Classic, right?”
I laugh. “That’s one way to do it. She called you yet?”
“Not yet,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly, but I can tell he’s excited about the prospect. “Fingers crossed for this weekend.”
“You’ll have to keep me posted,” I say, smiling.
As he hands me my coffee, Dylan’s expression turns curious. “So, speaking of weekend dates … How’d it go with Carlie on Sunday?”
I pause, my thoughts snagging again on that kiss.
“It went great,” I say, keeping it vague. I’m not one to kiss and tell, even with Dylan.
“Come on, man, give me something more than that,” Dylan protests, but he’s smiling. “If blondie doesn’t call, I gotta live vicariously through someone.
“Well, it’s not gonna be me, Dylan. That’s all you’re getting,” I reply, shooting him a lopsided grin.
He rolls his eyes but thankfully, lets it go. He knows me well enough by now to know that some things never change. This being one of them.
Then, his expression shifts, becoming more serious. “Actually, speaking of Carlie, Jillian was in here earlier. Why I let that woman come in, is a mystery, come to think of it.” His expression turns quizzical, like he’s trying to parse out his own logic.
It would be laughable if my protective instincts weren’t immediately on edge.
“Focus, Dyl. What did Jillian say about Carlie?” I ask, snapping my fingers in front of his face.
He shakes his head and refocuses on me. “Oh, right. She was talking to some guy—I’m guessing from St. Mary’s. I’ve never seen him before.”
I roll my hand, urging him to get on with it.
He narrows his gaze and flattens his expression, but thankfully, continues, “I was gonna text you about it. I just got swamped with the morning rush.”
“Dylan,” I groan.
“Yeesh, panties in a bunch, I see,” he snorts over his own wit and continues, “She said someone about how the ‘woman Adam got fired over’ couldn’t even last a week at the gym before quitting. Seriously, how that woman doesn’t realize I can overhear her in this tiny coffee shop is beyond me. Not much in the brains department, that one.”
My grip on the coffee cup he hands me tightens. “She was talking about Carlie?”
“I’m assuming. Unless you got fired because of some other girl,” Dylan says, raising an eyebrow in mock exasperation. “Jillian’s got a mean streak a mile wide.”
I frown, thinking thinks through. If it’s true, and Carlie quit her sessions, something’s not right.
“Adam, you still with me?” Dylan’s voice pulls me back from my thoughts.
“Yeah, just thinking,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck, my gaze drifting off.
The conversation I had with her last week about wanting to open my own gym floats to mind. Her immediate response was light but sincere—she said that if I ever opened my own gym, she’d be my first client.
As sweet as that was, I still hadn’t give it a whole helluva lot of credence.
But now … it ignites something in me, a spark of possibility that hasn’t been there before. Even for as much not-so-subtle nudging Brian and Dylan have offered, pointing me in this exact same direction.
I don’t have a gym—at least not one like St. Mary’s.
But I have my home, equipped enough for personal training.
It’s not the sprawling fitness center I’ve imagined, but it could be a start.
Could I really train Carlie at my place?
Would she even be comfortable with that?
I find myself weighing the pros and cons, trying to gauge how she might react.
Especially knowing how things went down with Jillian—and our developing relationship.
Maybe she wouldn’t even want my help anymore.
However, the idea of training her, helping her on her fitness journey in a way that’s supportive and positive feels right.
It’s personal, yes, but it’s also a chance to prove to myself that I can do this—that I can be more than just another employee at a gym.
“Dylan, maybe it’s time to bring Foxx Fitness to the world,” I start, turning back to face him. “I think I might have my first client. At least, I hope so.”
Dylan’s eyebrows shoot up as surprise and excitement lighting up his face. “You’re serious? Man, that’s great! Who’s the client? Wait, don’t tell me …”
His grin widens.
I nod, feeling a rush of adrenaline at the prospect. “Yeah, Carlie. But it’ll have to be at my place for now. Just gotta run it by her.”
“Your place, huh?” Dylan leans in with a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. “That’s one way to get personal training on a whole new level.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Not like that, Dylan. I want to help her. She deserves better than Jillian. Who knows what kind of bullshit she pulled to get Carlie to quit.”
“Right?” Dylan agrees, his expression turning serious for a moment. “You know, Brian’s gonna flip when he hears about this.”
“Yeah, well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Don’t clue him in just yet,” I warn, giving him the stink eye because I know Dylan’s propensity for running his mouth off. “I’ve still got to ask Carlie if she’s even up for it.”
“You got this, man,” Dylan says, giving me an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “And hey, if you need any help setting up or anything, you know where to find me.”
I nod, appreciative of his offer. “Thanks, Dylan. I might take you up on that. But for now, I think I have what I need.”
“Good, because I had no idea how I’d help,” Dylan chuckles, wiping down the counter.
“You know, I’m gonna head over to Carlie’s,” I say, a sense of purpose in my voice as I take a big swig from my coffee cup. “Talk to her about this personal training idea and make sure she’s okay.”
Dylan’s eyebrows lift in surprise, then he chuckles. “Right now? Man, you’re not wasting any time.”
I nod. “Yeah, I want to catch her before she gets wrapped up in her day or finds another gym to go to. And I need to do this face-to-face.”
“Bold move,” Dylan approves, grinning. “She’s a lucky girl, having someone so dedicated looking out for her.” He flutters his eyelashes and clasps his hands under his chin like he’s a heartsick lovebird.
I can’t help but shake my head and smile back. “Thanks, Dylan. Wish me luck.”
“Always, man. Go get ‘er,” he replies, giving me a supportive nod.
I push off from the counter, feeling more determined with each step. “Catch you later, Dylan. And thanks for the coffee.”
“No problem, Adam. Let me know how it goes—” Dylan calls after me as I head for the door.
“Will do,” I respond back as I swing the door open.
Stepping outside, I take a deep breath of the fresh morning air.
This is going to work.
The drive over to Carlie’s apartment isn’t long, but it gives me enough time to organize my thoughts and mentally prepare for the conversation ahead.
As I navigate through the streets, my mind whirls with possibilities and plans.
This isn’t just about offering Carlie personal training. It’s a chance to start something new—deepen the connection between us …
And maybe, in the process, lay the foundation for my dreams.
Turning onto her street, my grip on the steering wheel tightens. There’s an excitement bubbling inside me, mixed with a not-so-subtle hint of nervousness.
Will Carlie see this proposition as too forward—too presumptuous? Or will she understand the genuine intention behind it?
Parking the car, I take a moment to collect my thoughts. Sneaking a glance at my phone, I notice Carlie texted me back.
A smile inches across my face and lightens the pressure on my chest. No matter what happens, or what she says about the training—we still have this.
I head towards Carlie’s house, rehearsing in my mind the words I want to say. When I reach the deck, I walk to her door and press the doorbell before I lose my nerve.
I’m so focused on my thoughts that I almost miss the sound of another door opening.
I turn to find Carlie’s grandmother, her eyes sharp and assessing as she looks me over. “Well, well, if it isn’t the famous Adam,” she says, her voice tinged with humor.
I offer a polite smile, slightly taken aback by her directness.
“Hi, you must be Carlie’s grandma. It’s nice to meet you,” I say, holding out my hand.
She eyes it, then swipes my hand back. “Around here, we hug.”
Before I know what’s happening, the tiny woman wraps her arms around me and squeezes tight.
“My, you’re a solid one, aren’t you?” She says, practically give me a pat down.
I chuckle, opting not to step into that one. “I’m here to see Carlie. Is she around?”
As she steps back, she crosses her arms, giving me an assessing look. “She’s upstairs. But before you go up to see her, I have a few questions for you, young man.”
I nod, understanding the protective nature of her interrogation. “Of course. What do you want to know?”
“What are your intentions with my granddaughter? And what exactly are you doing here so early?” she asks, narrowing her gaze and raising her chin.
“I, uh—” I hedge. I don’t mind telling her any of it—it’s just I want Carlie to find out from me what my idea is.
Truthfully, it’s kinda sweet she cares so much.
“‘Uh’ is not an explanations, Adam. Cat got your tongue?” she fires back, her focus never straying from my face.
Just as I’m about to explain the idea of offering personal training to Carlie at my place—because let’s face it, that look on her grandma’s face means business—I hear footsteps descending the stairs.
Carlie appears in her doorway, looking relaxed and comfortable in a rumpled t-shirt and sweatpants. It’s a stark contrast to some of the other outfits I’ve seen, and it adds a new level of interest to her.
I read her shirt, which says, “Piss me off and I’ll kill you … in my books.”
Despite myself, I have to chuckle.
“Adam, what are you doing here?” Carlie asks, her eyes lighting up with surprise.
I turn to her, feeling her grandmother’s scrutinizing gaze on me. “I wanted to check in on you and see how you’re doing. And I have something to propose to you.”
“Grandma, you can go,” Carlie says, looking past me with a pointed look.
Carlie’s grandmother narrows her gaze on me, then raise two fingers to her eyes and flicks them my direct.
Carlie lets out an exasperated sigh.
Her grandma grins broadly at Carlie, then excuses herself, leaving us to talk.
Carlie rolls her eyes, then steps closer, a curious expression now on her face. “What’s this about a proposal?”
Taking a deep breath, I begin, “I was thinking …”
Her green eyes lock with mine and for a brief moment, I almost get lost in them. She raises her eyebrows expectantly.
“Sorry,” I say, shaking my head to clear it. “I was thinking about the conversation we had last week about you being my first client if I opened a gym. Now, hear me out—”
Her eyes widen. “You’re doing it? You’re opening your own gym?”
“Yes, I mean—sorta. Right now, I’d have to train you at my place. But it’s a start. Dylan told me you might have quit your sessions and I thought—” I exhale another breath. “I thought maybe Jillian pushed you over the edge. She can be a great trainer, but sometimes, she can also be brutal. You deserve better.”
Carlie watches me intently and after a moment, she smiles, a look of relief and excitement crossing her features. “I think this is a fantastic idea, Adam. You’re right, I couldn’t stomach any more sessions with Jillian. Not after—” She pauses, her eyes finding mine. “I’d love to be your first client.”
The tension I hadn’t realized I was holding onto melts away. “Great! We’ll start fresh next Monday. How does that sound? It’ll give you some time to rest up and I’ll get everything organized on my end.”
Her smile widens, and she nods in agreement. “Sounds like a plan. A fresh start.”
“A fresh start,” I agree with a nod.
As we finalize the details and I head out, I can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment and anticipation.
Monday won’t just be a new beginning for my career—it’s a new beginning for my life. And Carlie seems to be an integral part of it.
But first … I have a date to plan.