But I knew with absolution that Rhodes was like the wet sand I tried so desperately to grasp that night. I could feel him, he was real, and he was slowly letting me mold him into how I’d seen him in my mind all along. But eventually, the moon would fade, the tide would recede, and the sand would dry beneath the heat of the sun, slipping effortlessly through my fingers.
Still, I held on tight, anyway.
That Friday at training, I felt like I was back with the Rhodes I met day one. He was quiet, broody, and he was on my ass like he had something to prove. I was already dripping in sweat and we were only forty-five minutes into our session.
“Is everything okay?” I asked finally, starting on my third set of lunges.
“Fine.”
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? We’re back to this?”
“Back to what?” Rhodes sniffed, gently pushing down on my shoulders to force me lower. My legs shook and I gritted my teeth.
“Rhodes.”
He sighed, giving me the sign that I could stand and I exhaled with loud relief, shaking out my legs. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. I just had a late night.”
I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach dropped at his insinuation of a late night that I wasn’t a part of. “But we’re okay?”
His brows bent over his intense emerald pools, but he nodded.
I knew better than to push him, but still, his reflex moods bothered me. He wasn’t like a roller coaster, he was like a car crash — one that I felt like I’d have to live over and over again forever. I wanted him to stay the way he was at the beach on the Fourth of July, the way he was just two nights ago outside of LaRue’s. But those bright times were fleeting.
I somehow managed to make it through the rest of the session without vomiting, but just barely. When I was mid-cooldown on the treadmill, my phone pinged in my gym bag.
“Want me to get that for you?” Rhodes asked, wiping down his machine.
“Yeah, it might be Dale.”
Rhodes fished my phone out and the screen lit up again just as he handed it to me.
With Mason’s name.
His jaw ticked, his eyes taking on a dark forest green hue. Tossing his white towel over his shoulder, Rhodes made his way back to the office without another word. I groaned.
“Wait, Rhodes,” I called out, ending my session and jogging after him.
“Are you still fucking around with him?” Rhodes asked as soon as I shut the office door behind us. My mouth popped open.
“Is that a serious question?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? Your body is changing more every day, he’s clearly noticing, and the whole reason you ever walked into this gym was because of him. Makes perfect sense to me.”
“Rhodes, I don’t want Mason. I chose you, remember?”
“Yeah. Why is that exactly, Natalie?”
Without warning, my fingers began to tremor, mirroring my unsteady heartbeat. Rhodes was looking at me like I’d betrayed him, and I had no idea why.
I shook my head, confused. “What do you mean? I told you all this already, Rhodes. Isn’t it obvious?”
“Well, I thought so, but I don’t know anymore.”
“Don’t do this,” I pleaded, reaching out for him. He jerked his arm back. “Please. Talk to me.”
“What are you hiding from me, Natalie?!” Rhodes pounded his fists on the desk and I jumped. His voice boomed with anger, but his eyes gleamed with fear. It was the strangest combination.
I just stood there, dumbstruck, like his question was in a foreign language. What did he mean? I was nothing but open and honest with Rhodes.
“Fuck!” he shouted, flipping a stack of papers. They fluttered to the ground and Rhodes ran his hands roughly over his head. He held them there for a moment before slowly reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small, folded piece of paper. He handed it to me without looking at it.
Hesitantly, I took it from his grasp, unfolding it as if it were tied to an explosive. When I read the words written in neat script in the middle of the fold, my heart stopped.
I read those five words slowly, then all at once, then one-by-one, until they didn’t make sense anymore. Not that they had to begin with. My brows knitted together and I lifted my eyes to Rhodes, dropped them back to the note, and lifted them again. His expression was unreadable.
“What is this?”
“I found it taped to my bike windshield when I left the gym last night.”
“I,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “I don’t understand.”
Rhodes exhaled through his nose, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “If there’s something you’re not telling me—”
“There’s not!” I cut him off, reaching for him again. He jerked away and my eyes blurred, lips trembling. “Rhodes, please, you have to believe me. I don’t know what this means.”
He was quiet a moment, his jaw tense, his arms crossed. The sweat had dried on my skin and I was suddenly freezing. Rhodes wouldn’t look at me, but I could tell he was battling with what the note meant, too.
Then it hit me.
“God.” My hand found my forehead and I closed my eyes tight. “It’s Mason. It has to be.” When I opened my eyes to find Rhodes, he was already shaking his head. “No, listen to me. He told me you were bad for me when he pulled me to the side on the Fourth of July. He texted me a few days later asking if I’d thought about what he said. And he just texted me again asking me to call him.”
“Natalie,” Rhodes argued, saying my name like a warning, but I didn’t give him the chance to finish the thought.
“He’s jealous. And he’s an immature little boy. He’s playing a stupid game. Please, you have to believe me.”
“I can’t.”
I shook my head, my mouth still open, my hands extended toward him. I was so cold. Everything was so cold. “Why not?”
Rhodes cracked his neck, bending over slightly and splaying his hands on the desk. The muscles in his arms tensed, and he stared at the wooden surface between his thumbs. When he glanced up at me from beneath his still furrowed brow, I waited for his answer. I never could have imagined the words that left his mouth next.
“Because it’s my sister’s handwriting.”
I convinced Rhodes to let me take the note home with me.
There was something about it, something familiar, but I didn’t know what. He was hesitant at first, but given that I was its main subject, he agreed to let me study it for a while.
Still, I held on tight, anyway.
That Friday at training, I felt like I was back with the Rhodes I met day one. He was quiet, broody, and he was on my ass like he had something to prove. I was already dripping in sweat and we were only forty-five minutes into our session.
“Is everything okay?” I asked finally, starting on my third set of lunges.
“Fine.”
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? We’re back to this?”
“Back to what?” Rhodes sniffed, gently pushing down on my shoulders to force me lower. My legs shook and I gritted my teeth.
“Rhodes.”
He sighed, giving me the sign that I could stand and I exhaled with loud relief, shaking out my legs. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. I just had a late night.”
I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach dropped at his insinuation of a late night that I wasn’t a part of. “But we’re okay?”
His brows bent over his intense emerald pools, but he nodded.
I knew better than to push him, but still, his reflex moods bothered me. He wasn’t like a roller coaster, he was like a car crash — one that I felt like I’d have to live over and over again forever. I wanted him to stay the way he was at the beach on the Fourth of July, the way he was just two nights ago outside of LaRue’s. But those bright times were fleeting.
I somehow managed to make it through the rest of the session without vomiting, but just barely. When I was mid-cooldown on the treadmill, my phone pinged in my gym bag.
“Want me to get that for you?” Rhodes asked, wiping down his machine.
“Yeah, it might be Dale.”
Rhodes fished my phone out and the screen lit up again just as he handed it to me.
With Mason’s name.
His jaw ticked, his eyes taking on a dark forest green hue. Tossing his white towel over his shoulder, Rhodes made his way back to the office without another word. I groaned.
“Wait, Rhodes,” I called out, ending my session and jogging after him.
“Are you still fucking around with him?” Rhodes asked as soon as I shut the office door behind us. My mouth popped open.
“Is that a serious question?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? Your body is changing more every day, he’s clearly noticing, and the whole reason you ever walked into this gym was because of him. Makes perfect sense to me.”
“Rhodes, I don’t want Mason. I chose you, remember?”
“Yeah. Why is that exactly, Natalie?”
Without warning, my fingers began to tremor, mirroring my unsteady heartbeat. Rhodes was looking at me like I’d betrayed him, and I had no idea why.
I shook my head, confused. “What do you mean? I told you all this already, Rhodes. Isn’t it obvious?”
“Well, I thought so, but I don’t know anymore.”
“Don’t do this,” I pleaded, reaching out for him. He jerked his arm back. “Please. Talk to me.”
“What are you hiding from me, Natalie?!” Rhodes pounded his fists on the desk and I jumped. His voice boomed with anger, but his eyes gleamed with fear. It was the strangest combination.
I just stood there, dumbstruck, like his question was in a foreign language. What did he mean? I was nothing but open and honest with Rhodes.
“Fuck!” he shouted, flipping a stack of papers. They fluttered to the ground and Rhodes ran his hands roughly over his head. He held them there for a moment before slowly reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small, folded piece of paper. He handed it to me without looking at it.
Hesitantly, I took it from his grasp, unfolding it as if it were tied to an explosive. When I read the words written in neat script in the middle of the fold, my heart stopped.
I read those five words slowly, then all at once, then one-by-one, until they didn’t make sense anymore. Not that they had to begin with. My brows knitted together and I lifted my eyes to Rhodes, dropped them back to the note, and lifted them again. His expression was unreadable.
“What is this?”
“I found it taped to my bike windshield when I left the gym last night.”
“I,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “I don’t understand.”
Rhodes exhaled through his nose, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “If there’s something you’re not telling me—”
“There’s not!” I cut him off, reaching for him again. He jerked away and my eyes blurred, lips trembling. “Rhodes, please, you have to believe me. I don’t know what this means.”
He was quiet a moment, his jaw tense, his arms crossed. The sweat had dried on my skin and I was suddenly freezing. Rhodes wouldn’t look at me, but I could tell he was battling with what the note meant, too.
Then it hit me.
“God.” My hand found my forehead and I closed my eyes tight. “It’s Mason. It has to be.” When I opened my eyes to find Rhodes, he was already shaking his head. “No, listen to me. He told me you were bad for me when he pulled me to the side on the Fourth of July. He texted me a few days later asking if I’d thought about what he said. And he just texted me again asking me to call him.”
“Natalie,” Rhodes argued, saying my name like a warning, but I didn’t give him the chance to finish the thought.
“He’s jealous. And he’s an immature little boy. He’s playing a stupid game. Please, you have to believe me.”
“I can’t.”
I shook my head, my mouth still open, my hands extended toward him. I was so cold. Everything was so cold. “Why not?”
Rhodes cracked his neck, bending over slightly and splaying his hands on the desk. The muscles in his arms tensed, and he stared at the wooden surface between his thumbs. When he glanced up at me from beneath his still furrowed brow, I waited for his answer. I never could have imagined the words that left his mouth next.
“Because it’s my sister’s handwriting.”
I convinced Rhodes to let me take the note home with me.
There was something about it, something familiar, but I didn’t know what. He was hesitant at first, but given that I was its main subject, he agreed to let me study it for a while.
