Claire pulled up to the sports club and looked around a bit. Shelly’s little coupe roadster was parked up front, but save for a few other cars, the lot was mostly empty. She exited her vehicle and walked toward the front door but it was locked. She leaned forward and peered through the glass. A young twentysomething guy was sitting at the desk, his feet up and his hands folded over his chest. He was watching something on the monitor in front of him. Claire could see bright blue Beats headphones on his ears. She looked back at the door and noticed the newly printed sign hanging on the inside of the glass—the gym was closed early due to a maintenance issue. That explained the lack of cars. And yet Shelly’s car was there and this kid was obviously here, so…
She knocked on the glass and tried waving to get his attention. He laughed at the screen and continued to not notice her. After she’d left her office, she had called Shelly. Five times. She was afraid if she didn’t see her today, she would lose her nerve and that was not an option. When Shelly didn’t answer her cell or work phone, she shot her off a text. Then an email. Then she decided to swing by her office thinking that maybe she was just working with the engineers and computer geeks on the apps and was in the design space. At about the time she was walking through into Boston Pro App’s waiting room she realized that her behavior was probably kind of stalker-like. And yet, she wasn’t all that put off by it. Shelly never ignored her calls.
She banged on the glass again, louder this time. Beats boy looked up, alarmed. He fumbled out of his reclined position and stood, nearly falling backward when the cord of his headphones halted his progress. He gave her a bashful smile and jogged to the door.
“We’re closed,” he shouted through the glass, pointing to the sign.
“I know,” Claire replied, pointing toward Shelly’s car. “Is she here?”
His gaze followed her hand and he nodded, unlocking the door. “Yeah. Come in.”
Claire stepped through the doors and looked up at him. He was much taller than he’d appeared while lounging. She read his name tag before addressing him. “Thanks, Max.”
“Sure.” He shrugged and locked the door behind her. “She’s been at that for over an hour.”
“Who has?” Claire followed him to the desk where he plopped down.
He pointed to the monitor. “Ms. White.”
Claire looked past the laptop he had perched on the desk that had some clip paused on it. She recognized the frozen figure as an adult cartoon that her brothers watched, Bob’s Burgers, or something. Beyond the screen was a smaller monitor—it had scrolling views of security cameras positioned throughout the complex, giving different angles with time stamps in the corner. The screen flickered and a new set of hallways and exercise rooms cycled through. They were all empty except for one corner room. Claire could see Shelly’s outline feverishly hitting balls against the wall. She was relentless in her pursuit of the ball. The image shifted and a new view of the room vibrated, the picture distorted.
“What’s with that one? Why is it moving?” Claire realized she was leaning way over the desk into his personal space; she leaned back.
“Oh. Ms. White likes to listen to music. Loud. She plugs it into the wall with the north camera. Usually the vibrations completely impair the video feed. Everyone else just uploads a playlist but she brings her own speaker unit.” He reclined in his chair, propping his feet up again.
“What kind of music?” Claire realized she had no idea what Shelly would listen to, let alone work out to.
“Thirty Seconds to Mars, Panic! at the Disco, Fall Out Boy, Paramore, lots of alternative rock. The usual.” He was scrolling through the laptop, half paying attention to her.
“That surprises me,” Claire said to no one in particular, but he looked up at her.
“She always works out to rock music. She’s probably the chillest person in this place.” Max furrowed his brow. “Is she expecting you?”
“No.” Claire wasn’t sure why answering that made her a little panicky.
He sat forward and examined her briefly. “She knows you, though, right?”
“Yeah, yes.”
“Cool.” Max seemed convinced and began to put his headphones on before he stopped. “You can head down if you want. It’s through the door over there. Tell her I’ll lock up when she’s all set.”
“Thanks.” Claire walked past him as he resumed his program, laughing under his breath as the cartoons moved across the screen. She went through the door he directed her to and walked along the empty corridors, following the sound of angry rock music. Shelly was in the last room on the left. All the other rooms were uninhabited and dark. Claire noticed that the corner room had fewer viewing windows, and a privacy screen was partially obstructing her view through them. Partially.
She bent forward to look through the exposed portion of the glass. Shelly continued her assault on the ball, lunging to the side to volley it and send it back to the wall to rebound. Her hair was swept up into a long, dark ponytail. She was in shorts and a sports bra. Her back and shoulders glistened with sweat as she darted to the side and then back to the middle again. Claire let herself admire the lean lines of Shelly’s muscles, the ripple of her deltoids when she served. She watched Shelly’s bicep twitch as she turned to the side to return the serve with a fierce forehand swing, banishing the racquetball to the corner. It occurred to her that she had never thought of Shelly as athletic. Although, considering she had sprinted or been dragged to Claire’s car last week without even breaking a sweat, it shouldn’t surprise her. Not like she could ever forget about last week even if she tried.
Shelly turned toward her and she instinctively ducked out of the window view. She realized she was kind of being a creeper. A little. Okay, a lot. And how did she also neglect to notice how cut Shelly’s abs where? Like, seriously. The little bit she saw before she hid in the shadows like a pervert was really impressive.
A loud thump caused her to jump back from the window. The privacy shade retracted into itself and the small area of window exposed quadrupled. She leaned forward and peered and noticed Shelly on her knees, seeming to catch her breath. After a short period, Shelly stood and walked toward the speakers. She cut the music off abruptly and grabbed a towel off a bench in the corner, walking straight toward Claire.
*
Shelly wound back and whaled the ball into the wall in front of her. She had been punishing herself for well over an hour, beating the sense out of every ball at the racquetball gym, doing drills as if her life depended on it. It felt like it did.
She grunted as the ball rebounded at an awkward angle and she had to chase it to keep it in play. The force with which her backhand hit the ball sent a violent vibration up her wrist to her elbow. She ignored the ache and swung again, this time sending the ball flying behind her, out of reach.
“Fuck,” Shelly screeched, launching her racket across the court to the far wall. She slumped to the ground in a heap and let her head droop. She was exhausted. Emotionally and physically exhausted. She had replayed her conversation with D’Andre over and over until it started to blur together on her. She hated herself for not realizing something was wrong. She hated herself for being blindsided. She hated him for abandoning her.
Her legs burned and her shoulders felt like they were weighted with cement. She had tipped the guy at the front desk to make sure she could be in the corner court, the one with only one viewing window, for as long as she damn well pleased to be in here. Her body was fatiguing. But her mind still swirled—even in its weariness, it swirled and swirled. In that moment, she hated that part of herself, too.
She sat there for a few moments, catching her breath as she tried to calm down the waves of acid that burned inside her. It wasn’t like her to lose her cool like that. She couldn’t remember a time when she had thrown her racket in disgust before. Of course, she couldn’t remember a time feeling this fucking alone either. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; she had felt this way when her mother had left.
Shelly groaned as she stood from the ground, her body protesting, her muscles aching and throbbing. Slowing down had let the pain settle into her joints. Her adrenaline was wearing off. She stumbled toward the back wall to retrieve her racket, hoping it was still intact. Not that that mattered, she mused. She could always buy another one. Or a million. Because she had all this money and all this time and yet no one to share it with and no partner to celebrate her successes with. She had assumed that was why that stutter had returned when she had first met Samantha. She was so desperate to find a mate, so desperate to find a partner in life, that she wanted it so badly, it seemed unachievable. The stuttering of her youth had resurfaced because she so wanted something that she didn’t think she would ever get, so old habits reemerged. And yet, still, after all these months, she was alone.
She picked up the discarded racket. It was dented, but not destroyed. She would donate it to the club and pick up a new one on the way out. She looked at the wall for damage—nothing to speak of, but she had knocked the privacy screen off the only view window. It was askew, and she could see the corridor toward the locker rooms illuminated. The gym had been closed for some time due to the water issue with the showers. Max was undoubtedly asleep at the front desk by now. She probably should head out.
She shut off her music and grabbed a towel from the bench by the door and looked back at the carnage of balls strewn about. She must have taken two dozen in with her. They were everywhere. She would tip Max extra as she left, unsure if she could even bend and pick them all up. Not that she was particularly inspired to anyway.
As she trudged toward the door, a slight movement at the glass drew her attention. Claire was there, giving her a wave with a small smile. Shelly felt the dark cloud that was her mood lift a little—this was an unexpected surprise. She worried whether Claire had seen her little tantrum. She decided to pretend it never happened.
She pulled open the door and tried not to wince when her biceps burned. “Hi. This is a pleasant surprise.”
“Hey.” Claire stayed in the doorway.
“You can come in, if you’d like.” Shelly stepped back and motioned for her to enter.
Claire stepped in and brought a rush of cold air with her. Shelly was only then aware that she was nearly naked, the sweat on her skin causing it to prickle and shiver with the temperature change. She imagined the room to be pretty dense with humidity from the amount of work she had exerted in there. It had become a regular habit of hers to jack up the thermostat in her court—the heat helped her stay warm and limber. Lucinda had taught her that little tidbit. It had really changed her training and her game play.
Shelly pressed the towel to her abdomen, more to slow the shiver than to absorb her sweat. The sweat meant she had done her work in there, the sweat meant she had earned that fatigue. She was aware of Claire’s eyes on her, and the awareness warmed her a bit. She dried off her chest and face, draping the towel over her shoulder as she stood, unsure of where to put her hands now that she had stopped moving. They ached a little. She bet that blisters would form by morning—her hands felt raw.
“I didn’t know you played racquetball. You know, come to think of it, I don’t know what you do outside of coding and being a magical computer unicorn.”
“You say all the right things, you know that?” Shelly crossed her arms just to give them something to do. Part of her wanted to take Claire’s hand; another part of her wanted to be held. Today had been a long day. A thought occurred to her. “How did you find me?”
“Toby. I stopped by the office when you didn’t return my texts—he told me you left early and said you were heading to the gym. I may or may not have tickled the details out of him. He may or may not have screamed like a little girl. But I’ve probably been sworn to secrecy, so you shouldn’t ask me any details,” Claire replied with a playful smile.
The smile was contagious, until Shelly realized Claire said she stopped by the office. She wondered what that was like. She had stayed after D’Andre left to do a little damage control, but she realized that she was feeling a little off. So she’d ducked out as well. Some captain, she thought.
“Oh. Sorry about the texts—my phone is off. How was Toby? You know, before you emasculated him with the tickling.”
“He seemed a little distracted. Said something about everything going to shit. I assumed that was about his girlfriend or school. You know, come to think of it, he had been staring off into space when I got there. Did something happen at the ballet?”
“The ballet?” Shelly was lost. She should have stayed at the office. Leaving to go beat the living shit out of balls wasn’t very leader-like.
“You gave him tickets to the ballet to take his girlfriend. I’m invested—how did it work out?” Claire leaned against the wall, her ankles crossed. Shelly thought she looked nice today.
“It went well. She thought he was a total stud, very romantic. Lucinda really came through for him.” Shelly looked around for her shirt, suddenly a little self-conscious. She found it off to the side in a corner by her gym bag. It was a little damp. She grabbed her zip-up hoodie instead, shoving the damp shirt into the bag while digging out her cell phone. When she caught Claire watching her zip the hoodie closed, she stopped just above her navel, leaving it open a little. Because, why not?
“Right. Good.” Claire’s gaze met hers.
Shelly turned on her phone and watched Claire while it loaded, then slipped it into her pocket. Claire was giving her a friendly face, but she seemed a little preoccupied. Like something was on her mind. “Everything okay?”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you with your hair pulled back—it’s nice.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Shelly shifted uncomfortably. She zipped the hoodie closed a little more. Claire’s eyes followed. “Why do I get the distinct feeling that’s not the reason you came to find me?” After their impromptu make-out session, Shelly had worried that Claire was having second thoughts. They had texted back and forth, but Claire hadn’t committed to dinner. In fact, the more she let herself obsess about it, the more Shelly was convinced that Claire might have felt like it was a bad idea. Something Claire seemed to be expressing right this very moment even if she didn’t mean to. But then again, Shelly was pretty sure she had seen Claire checking her out a least twice since she invited her onto the court. She took a step forward and reached out for Claire’s hand.
Claire took her hand and stroked it gently. She turned Shelly’s palm over and gave her a pained expression. “You’re bleeding.”
Shelly looked down. Two blisters had formed on her hand and had opened. She didn’t feel them, though; she was only aware of the warmth of Claire’s hand. It was soothing. “Doesn’t hurt.” Shelly felt the sudden urge to cry. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had shown her genuine affection and concern. The intensity of today stung at the back of her eyes; her exhaustion must have been catching up with her.
Claire cradled her hand and closed her eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. “Shelly, we need to talk.”
Shelly felt a lump form in her throat. That was never a good start to a conversation. She couldn’t get any more bad news today. She examined Claire, willing her tears to stay put. She and Claire were so close again—she never understood how they always ended up so close. And yet here they were, just inches away from each other. Shelly whispered, “Don’t. Not today.”
Claire gave her a confused look.
Shelly stepped closer, taking her free hand and running it along Claire’s face. Her desire to be comforted overcame her fear of initiating contact with Claire. She paused at Claire’s cheek and leaned forward to kiss her. Soft and pleading.
Claire kissed her back but kept her distance. She loosely held Shelly’s hand in her own, but pressed her palm to the exposed skin of Shelly’s chest when Shelly leaned forward. “Wait. I can’t. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I can’t date you, Shelly. I can’t kiss you. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Shelly closed her eyes and tried to compose herself, but the weight of the day was too much for her. Claire’s statement was the very last straw and the tears flowed freely now. She kept her eyes closed for fear that if she looked at Claire, the image would never leave her. She didn’t want to be heartbroken and haunted.
“Shelly.” Claire’s voice was soft. The hand on Shelly’s chest slid up to cradle her head and jaw. Shelly turned into it, pressing her face against the soft skin of Claire’s palm, letting it soothe her.
She chanced opening her eyes. Claire looked so concerned, caring. Her words didn’t match her actions. Her face, that beautiful face, was close to Shelly’s, examining her. Shelly released Claire’s hand to hold the one to her cheek a little more firmly. She turned her head and pressed a kiss to Claire’s palm, watching Claire carefully. Claire sighed, her thumb stroking Shelly’s cheek. She seemed to be fighting with herself. Shelly couldn’t take any more fighting today.
“Come home with me, Claire.”
Claire’s eyes widened a little but she stayed close, her hand still cupping Shelly’s face. She opened her mouth to reply, but said nothing.
Shelly shifted forward, moving Claire’s hand from her cheek to her chest. Her heartbeat raced under the pressure of Claire’s hand, and she entwined their loosely held hands more tightly, pulling them closer. Her tears slowed. She wanted this. “Come home with me,” she repeated. “I need you. Please.”
Claire was watching the hand Shelly held to her chest. Her tongue ran over her still-parted lips as she looked into Shelly’s eyes. Shelly decided this was her last chance.
“Come home with me.” Shelly kissed her again, and this time Claire embraced her, her hands separating from Shelly’s skin only long enough to wrap around her. Their kissing was unhurried, soft, needing. Shelly needed this, needed to be cared for tonight. She kissed Claire until she felt her tears were done falling. She sucked on Claire’s bottom lip briefly before leaning back, appraising her. “Let’s go.”
Claire gave her a small nod. Shelly kept their hands clasped as she reached for her gym bag and led Claire to the door. They walked in silence through the corridors, up to the main entrance.
Max was yawning at the desk with his feet propped up, watching his laptop as they approached. He pulled off his headphones and gave Shelly a broad grin. “All done, Ms. White?”
She released Claire’s hand to dig through her gym bag, pulling out her wallet and car keys. “You know I hate when you call me that, Max. It sounds like I’m a character from Clue.” She placed two hundred dollars on the counter in front of him. “I left the court full of balls and my old racquet. The club can keep the racquet—I’m due for a new one. The privacy screen got knocked off kilter a bit. I’m going to leave my car here until tomorrow, so have the manager call me if he needs it moved.”
Max looked from the cash to her and gave her a questioning look. “I’ll clean up, no problem. You sure, Ms.—Shelly?”
She nodded, pushing the money toward him. “I’m sure. Thanks for keeping the gym open for me. Don’t let them give you any trouble—if they balk about it, tell them I forced you.”
Max took the cash and started to pack up his things. “It’s all good. I clocked out and shut off the night monitoring systems forever ago—the cameras are doing security scrolls, but not filming. No one’s going to be any the wiser.”
Shelly was glad to hear that. She was sure the cameras had caught her and Claire kissing. She reached for Claire’s hand and started to leave before pausing to ask, “How’s school, Max?”
“It’s good. Almost done. I’m having some trouble with one of my engineering projects but I think it’ll work out.” He gave her an optimistic shrug.
“If it doesn’t, let me know and you can come hang with one of my engineers to go over it, sound good?”
“Really? Yeah, awesome, thanks.” He pulled on a baseball cap and jogged over to the door to unlock it and let them out. “’Bye, Shelly, thanks again.”
She gave him a quick smile and pulled Claire by her hand into the parking lot as he locked the door behind them and disappeared. She paused in front of Claire’s car and kissed her once because she needed it to feel grounded. “Ready?” She wasn’t sure if she was asking for herself or for Claire.