No gym, no Jillian, no ...Adam.
I wince, not just from the pain but from the thought of him. I still can’t believe how horribly wrong things went over something so innocent.
It’s not like he was the guy from Club Nocté and we were photographed in one of ourmanysexy entanglements.
God, if word somehow got out that I went there the Friday before—nowthatwould have been something for the hospital board to freak out over.
News Flash Duluth Citizens!Super hot fitness trainer caught with hussy, who was last seen at a mysterious sex club in Superior.
I shudder at the thought.
At least that’s one secret I’ll take to my grave.
I open my laptop, staring at the blinking cursor on the blank page. My book deadline is looming over me like a dark cloud, but ever since the fiasco with Michael, the words have been a slog.
It’s been three months and still, writing is just …meh.
I’ve had a few hits of inspiration, but for the most part, writing has lost some of its luster.
A part of me no longer believes that love and sex go hand in hand. And while the night at Nocté certainly helped me gain some perspective on mind-blowing sex, it’s done nothing to truly mend my heart.
I can’t even see the man again.
“You’ve let yourself go. I mean, look at you. I just can’t be with someone who doesn’t at least make an effort.”
Michael’s words still haunt me. And to think he had the gall to come back here, thinking we could try again.
What a home-invading asshole.
I hadn’t realized how much the stress I’ve been under impacted my weight until that moment.
Instead, I was just focused on building my author career and getting my books out there. I thought he was on board. That he had my back.
I kept thinking that if I could just prove I was worthy by earning big, then it meant I was worthy of other things, too.
That went well.
I may have gotten the notoriety and money to prove I can write a dirty book, but my relationship with the man I thought I’d marry dissolved.
Definitely for the better, now that I look back. But it doesn’t mean his words don’t sting.
I rub my temples, trying to focus on the outline and the scene I’m supposed to write next. However, with every minuscule movement, my mind snaps back to my aching body. Then to Adam’s last training session and how different his session was from Jillian’s.
Where Adam was encouraging, Jillian was ... well,demoniccomes to mind.
And then, of course, my traitorous brain decides to remember just how handsome he is. Those gray eyes, that cocky smile.
I shake my head.
Focus.
But it’s no use. The muscles in my neck scream from the movement and even blinking feels like work.
I wonder what Adam’s doing now?
After the Instagram blow out, after getting fired. Is he okay? What’s he planning to do next?
I don’t know why it matters or why I’m so curious, but I am. Hopefully, he lands on his feet. I mean, how could he not with that IG following?