I hesitate, then open the message.
Morning, Carlie. I had fun last night. Hope you’re having a better day than me. Spilled my protein shake all over my shirt. Guess you’re not the only one with a talent for chaos. ??
I can’t help but laugh. The tension eases from my shoulders.
He’s just as human, just as prone to mishaps as I am. It’s strangely comforting.
And maybe …
Just maybe—he was up last night thinking about me, too.
Quickly typing a reply, I tease him about joining the ‘clumsy club.’
I don’t fill him in on today’s fiasco, hoping that’s something he never has to learn about.
His response is immediate and light-hearted.
We banter back and forth, and for a brief moment, I forget about Jillian, about the gym, about the doubts plaguing me.
Setting my phone aside, I glance around my apartment. It’s small, cozy, a reflection of my life—a little chaotic, a lot colorful.
I make my way to the living room, pulling out my yoga mat. Maybe it’s time to take my fitness into my own hands. Since I never got the chance to cool down at the gym, I’ll start by stretching..
As I reach for my toes, feeling the tension leave my body, I can’t help but think about Adam and our partner yoga session.
The mystery of Mr. Nocté still hangs over us, but right now, it doesn’t matter.
I’m Carlie, a writer, a hopeful romantic, and a survivor of the most disastrous gym session in history.
I’m also ready to embrace whatever comes next.
With a renewed sense of purpose, I finish my routine.
There’s a story waiting to be written, a life waiting to be lived. I grab my laptop, open a new document, and start typing. The words flow a little easier today, mirroring my newfound resolve.
No matter what the future holds, I’m ready for it. With or without Adam, with or without the gym, I’m just getting started.
Bring it on, universe.
I’m ready.
CHAPTER19
Adam
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:
Hey Carlie, want to catch up Friday night? Dinner and maybe something fun afterward?
I hit send before I can second-guess myself.
Let the waiting game begin.