Chapter 47

47

Sometimes you need comic relief.

I find it at the gym that afternoon.

Josh is cycling on a stationary bike like he’s trying to win the Tour de France. What kills me is how he looks.

I walk straight over to his bike and wave a hand in front of his face, since he’s staring at ESPN like he wants to rip off the screen with his bare teeth. I glance over at the television captions—something or other about an NFL rookie who signed with Dallas.

Let me guess—not Josh’s client.

But I don’t need to stir the grizzly bear.

Instead, I point to the Bluetooth device dangling from his ear.

He looks to me. “What? What’s going on?”

“You really don’t know?”

He looks at me, still cycling, still panting, still not giving a shit that he looks like a total idiot.

“You have your earring on. Your Bluetooth, dickhead.”

He reaches up and laughs self-deprecatingly as he tucks the device in his shorts pocket. “Oh. Guess I forgot to take it off.”

“You realize you look like a complete twat like that?”

“Hey, I don’t look like a twat. I look like a dipshit.”

“No, you look like a total tool. That better?”

He offers me a fist. “Knock me, brother. You’re getting the lingo down properly now.”

“You’re so American.”

“You’re so British.”

“All right, so you’ve taken that dumb Bluetooth off,” I say as I hop on the bike next to him and begin a warm-up cycle.

“Yeah, but I was talking to a client before, when I was climbing a hill. That’s why I had it on.”

“I’m sure your client enjoyed when you were talking to him and panting.”

“They’re athletes. They’re always working out when I’m talking to them.” He narrows his eyes and raises his chin in a question. “So what’s going on? You’re not your usual happy self.”

“Am I usually happy?”

“You’re like the happiest lad around. You’re always a barrel of sunshine or a bollock of dogs or a bushel of cats’ pajamas, or whatever it is that you say,” he says, deliberately botching sayings he knows well.

I sigh and decide to tell him what went down today. When I’m done, I add, “So that’s the whole pathetic story.”

“I told you, you can’t let work get you down. You can’t let work dictate your life.”

“Says the man who wears his Bluetooth at the gym.”

“I was taking a call. And I had to because this is a cutthroat business. Sharks are swimming everywhere, and I need to protect my clients. I have to talk to them whenever they need me.”

I arch a brow. “You’re proving my point exactly. You’re constantly on. You don’t have an off mode. I have to be the same.”

“No. I’m telling you that sometimes you have to let things go.”

“Why do I? Do you let things go? I don’t think you do.”

He stabs a finger against his chest. “I’m as single as the day is long. Different boat, my friend. No one gets hurt when I work all hours. But you? You do. You love this woman, right?”

“Did I say I loved her?”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re such an asshole. You don’t have to say you love her. You don’t have to use the word love for it to be apparent. The way you told that story, it was stupidly obvious that you’re madly in love with her.”

“‘Madly in love with her’?” I parrot, because there’s a hard shell over my heart right now, and I don’t even know how to crack it.

Josh slows his pace and stares hard at me. “Yes. Madly in love, Jason. I don’t know about you, but if I felt the way you seem to feel, I’d like to think I wouldn’t let work stand in the way. Just food for thought.” He presses a button to end his workout. “And on that note, I have a meeting about the shortstop I’m trying to win.”

“So you’re not letting work stand in the way, right?”

He moves to the front of my bike and parks his hands on the handlebars. “I’m not in love with the shortstop, dickhead.”

“Love you too, asshole.”

When I return to my apartment, I Skype the one person who’ll understand. Abby answers on the first ring with a yawn. “It’s practically eleven p.m. Why are you calling me now?”

“Because I love you.”

“I love you too. But you never call this late unless something’s on your mind. Spill.”

I flop onto my couch, my arm hanging off the side. “I’ve got to go to another wedding tonight. And it’s going to fucking suck.”

“Why is it going to suck?”

I grit my teeth then fume. “Because evidently I have feelings for Truly, but I can’t be with her, and yet I have to be with her at a wedding tonight. Doesn’t that just take the piss out of everything?”

She laughs. “That takes the piss out of literally everything.”

“I thought it was going to be easy until my friend Josh reminded me of one annoying fact.”

“What did he remind you?”

“Turns out I’m actually in love with her.”

She smiles from across the ocean. “Aww. Love is awesome. Studies show hearts are healthier when you’re in love, so it’s good medicine too.”

“Ah, so that’s what you’re learning in medical school.”

“Pretty useful, wouldn’t you say? But why is being in love hard? I thought the issue was you being best mates with her brother?”

“Who knew? Apparently the bastard is fine with it.”

She pumps her fist. “Yay. That’s awesome!”

“No, it’s not. It’s awful. Because there’s no time for love. Love is distracting, and nothing is working. Therefore, I’m pissed and annoyed, and I hate everything.”

She stifles a laugh. “Poor you. But are you annoyed because of work or because you’re in love with her?”

I sit up, dragging a hand through my hair. “Because I’m trying to meet these bills. I’m trying to make things happen,” I say, letting too much slip.

She narrows her eyes. “Wait. Hold on. We had a deal. You were paying for my school, but not if it drove you mad. And clearly, you’re going mad. Barking mad, as Ron Weasley would say.”

“He’s a twat.”

“Don’t be harshing on my Weasley.”

“Weasley is a twat, like me. Both of us are penniless twats.”

“Wow. This is a whole new level of moping. Also, for the record, I’ll take out a loan for the rest of med school. I never wanted you to pay for it if it was going to make you miserable and work twenty-four seven, you daft idiot.”

“Daft idiot?”

“Oh, excuse me, like you’ve never heard me call you that before?”

“No, I think you should’ve called me a daft prick though,” I say, and then a laugh I didn’t expect bursts from my chest. Because holy fuck. That’s exactly how I’m behaving. I’m behaving worse than the night I went to Walker’s club.

“I should get ready for the wedding. I have to see Truly tonight, and I need to be one hundred percent focused on my client. Perhaps I should take up yoga in the next few minutes to get her out of my mind.”

“Or maybe don’t?”

“Don’t take up yoga?”

“Don’t worry about getting her out of your mind, because that’s not where she is. She’s in your heart. And you’re so damn focused on work. You say it’s because of me and school and bills, and that’s true to some extent, but I swear, I can find a way to cover them. Or take out loans and still be just fine. Please don’t let me be the person who stands in your way.” She takes a beat, takes a breath. “But I don’t think I’m actually the reason.”

“What? Are you kidding? I made you a promise, and I’m not breaking it.”

She groans and moves even closer to the screen. “You’re not listening, Jason. I’m not talking about money. I’m talking about that heart of yours. You locked it in a cage after Claire left. It’s made you afraid. You’re afraid that you’re going to lose out, that you’re going to have to reinvent yourself like you did after Claire left. But things will always change. That’s life.” She clears her throat and dives back into it. “No matter what happens with Truly, you’re going to have to figure out what to do with work and where the Modern Gentleman goes next. Don’t you see my point?”

“I’m not sure I do.” But for the first time all day, I start to shuck off my hard edge, my anger, my frustration. Because I want to understand my sister and what she’s telling me. Maybe, just maybe, I want to find a way to the other side of this terrible mess. “Try to help me see it.”

She softens further, taking a lower, kinder tone. “The question is, do you want to sort out all these work issues on your own? Or do you want to sort them out with somebody who loves you and supports you, and probably wants to be there for you as you navigate your way through?”

And like that, today becomes crystal clear.

Thanks to my friends and my sister.

I am indeed a daft idiot.

I’m spiraling.

I’m letting work get in the way of love. I’m letting old wounds reopen. I’m forgetting every piece of advice I’ve ever shared.

I lost one bit on one show, but I was doing fine before. I can’t lose sight of all the other opportunities out there. Hell, I’ll be my own Ryder if no one wants me on their program.

But I’m not concentrating on what matters.

What matters is Truly.

I might have lost the job, but I’m not going to lose the woman.

That’s the advice that every man should follow, and I’m going to do so to the letter tonight.