Page 38 of Resistance Training

VIVIAN

“ I just have to say that I’m really, really proud of you for having a perfect penis. I mean it. It’s really good. Ten out of ten, no notes. And you really know what you’re doing with it too.”

“Wow. Ten out of ten, huh?”

“You sound disappointed. I was negging you because you’re pretty. It’s actually twenty out of ten.”

“Thank you. That feels more accurate.”

“Never neg the peen, am I right?”

“Probably just don’t call it a peen, ever.”

“Okay, but full disclosure, I already texted Aubrey about your marvelous peen yesterday and we started calling it Captain Peen.” I grimace at him. Brad. Bradley. Mitch. Brad Mitchell. My best friend from high school that I’m friends with and having sex with and a lot of feelings.

The cutest smile spreads across his handsome face. “I will allow it. Because I can do this all day.” He still does an amazing Captain America impression.

“Yay. I got you to dimple-smile.”

We’re lying in bed—or on the bed, rather.

Still on top of the comforter, facing each other.

We are deep into the aftercourse. We’ve already passed out, cleaned up, fell asleep again, woken up again, put on our undies.

I put on a real pair of panties because the V-strap thing is ridonkulous.

It’s, like, ten thirty or eleven. I want him to sleep over, but I also want him to be a good cat daddy and go home to keep her company.

Things are so complicated already. My biggest problem right now is that I cannot stop touching his hot, hot body.

“I also have to know how you got these V-lines.” I trace the muscles between his lower abs and his hips. “They are top notch and very hot, and I’m wondering how I can get them too.”

“Well, first of all, thank you. I prefer to call this my Adonis belt. Mine aren’t all that well defined, but I have twelve percent body fat and I have been doing consistent core work for, like, seven and a half years, three to four times a week. V-ups, hanging leg raises, Russian twists.”

“I can do Russian twists!”

“Yeah you can. More importantly, though, very disciplined eating. Defined abs are made in the kitchen.”

“Okay, never mind. I don’t want them. But I’m really glad you have them.”

“Thanks. Planks are also good—you can do those. Did you have a good session today? At the gym?”

“Oh my God, yes! I made Gwen almost laugh twice, and we spent extra time on stretching at the end.”

“No wonder you were so limber. Might have to give Gwen a raise.”

I start to stroke Captain Peen over his boxer briefs, because it’s about to be an all-hands-on-deck situation down there, but I realize Hairy Styles has just jumped onto the bed.

Which is amazing, because Hairy used to hate Brad and the only guy he ever shared a bed with before was Jeremy.

And he really didn’t like Jeremy all that much either.

But he swaggers right on over to Brad, sniffing his leg, as if he recognizes him.

Brad holds his breath and doesn’t move. Hairy turns around a couple of times and then curls up right between Brad’s legs and mine.

I carefully move my hand away from Brad’s body and cover my mouth because oh my God, this is amazing.

Brad’s mouth is open, and he still won’t move or breathe.

We look at each other and silently mouth Oh my God!

This is a sign. Hairy Styles is giving us his blessing.

This is the best thing that has ever happened to us since Brad and I had amazing sex just now.

“Good boy, Hairy!” I say.

Brad shushes me.

“He’s not going to leave—look at him.”

“This is very cool.”

“It’s so good.”

“He looks great. Do you think he can tell I’m a cat guy now?”

“I mean, I think everyone can tell. You had cat hair all over your shirt.”

“I wish.”

We just lie together smiling at each other, barely breathing.

All because I’m such an amazing email writer and Brad finally stopped being an idiot.

“I have to tell you something,” he says.

I start touching his pecs and biceps again, very gently, so it doesn’t disturb Hairy Styles or Captain Peen.

“Are you listening?”

“Yes. I’m listening with my ears, but my hands aren’t paying much attention to what you’re saying.”

“That really fucking works for me. So, the reason I was extra pissed off about what happened with Brad Turner and prom is that I was planning to stay in Seattle so I could be with you.”

“When?”

“After we graduated. I mean, at the end of April I deferred my spot at Princeton. I was accepted to both schools, remember, and you seemed so sad that I chose Princeton.”

“I never blamed you for wanting to go to Princeton?—”

“I know. But it was too late to register at UW, so I was going to take a gap year and then go to UW in 2018. I was gonna surprise you. But it seemed kind of intense, giving up Princeton for you.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

I put my hand over his heart. “Bradley.” Now I’m tearing up. “I wish you’d told me.”

He shrugs. “Anyway. I didn’t need a degree from Princeton to become a personal trainer, so…”

“Wow. I mean. Everything happened for a reason, I guess, right?” It’s so easy to say those words, but the thought of him deferring his spot at Princeton so he could be with me before all that happened with Other Brad…

it’s just too much. No wonder he was so mad.

But also, he should have told me. It would have changed everything.

“Don’t cry, baby.” He wipes a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “I didn’t want to make you sad. I just wanted you to know how much you meant to me.” I make a happy-sad little kitty-cat sound and rub my cheek against his hand. “How much you mean to me. So much.”

“Oh my God, your parents must have been so upset.”

He exhales. “They were not happy about it.”

I have this realization all of a sudden. “Oh my God. Did your parents make you stay away from me because you gave up Princeton for me?” This is so much more romantic and acceptable to my brain.

“I mean…no. That was all me.”

“Oh.”

“My mom was actually pretty upset that I didn’t want her talking to you or your mom at all.”

“Oh. Well, that is nice to hear. So can our parents be friends again now?”

“Yeah. I look forward to giving mine the good news.”

I’m about to mention how happy my mom will be to have two more people to talk about Aubrey’s wedding to, when I realize I still haven’t got a date to that wedding yet…

He slowly reaches down to touch Hairy’s neck and Hairy doesn’t move, so he strokes his fur, as sweetly as he stroked my cheek just now. And I know I need to lock this guy down, like, yesterday. I clear my throat and say, “So, I have this event on Orcas Island in June…”

“Aubrey’s wedding?” he asks without looking up.

“Yeah. How are your weekends looking that month?”

“If you want me to go as your date, Vivian, I am available to go as your date.”

“Yeah? That was easy.”

“Yeah, well. I’m easy.”

We both laugh at that, because it was so not easy to get to this place with him. “Okay. Well, I’ll tell Aubrey I’m bringing you as my date, then.” I roll over onto my back and look up at the ceiling. “Brad Mitchell is my date…”

He sighs, stops touching Hairy Styles, and strokes my arm. “Hey. I meant what I said—I do want you in all the ways a man wants a woman, Vivi. I have no idea if I’ll be good at this. But I want to be good at it.”

And because I would like to think that I’m the one training and challenging him now, I look him in the eyes and whisper, “Be good at what? Exactly?”

“Relationship-type stuff.”

“Serious-relationship-type stuff?”

He smirks. “Boyfriend-type stuff. Too soon?”

Grinning, I say, “Bradley, you are right on time.” I sit up, because it feels like I should sit up to say this. “If we do this, I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you again—I can only promise that I want to learn how to love you in a way that you will always know I never want to hurt you.”

He sits up too, very carefully, checking to make sure he’s not disturbing Hairy. “Okay. Same.”

“Okay.” I lean in to kiss him.

He kisses me softly, touches my face. “I should go home and check on Bella.”

I nod. “Yeah. We can stay at your place next time.”

He nods, kisses my forehead. “Let’s do that tomorrow. I had fun tonight.”

Laughing, I ask, “What should I call that sex position we did when I text Aubrey about it as soon as you leave? Lazy doggy style?”

“Excuse me? That was called Captain Peen: Brave New Dog. Between the two of us, I was definitely not the lazy one.”

We’re so cute.

Beaming at him, I wrap my hands around his bicep and say, “I love us.”

I only feel him tense up a little bit. I want to tell him I love him, because I know I do. But love is a muscle. We’ve already worked our love muscles pretty hard the past few days. And I’ve learned that we need to take rests, so our torn love-muscle fibers can repair themselves and grow stronger.

What I do say to him is “In case it wasn’t obvious, I forgive you for being a dick and ghosting me. I forgive us for being young and scared of what other people think.”

“I forgive you too,” he says, nudging my shoulder with his. “I don’t forgive Other Brad and his shithead friends, though.”

“Oh, me neither. They’re forever the worst. Everyone else from high school is still an idiot. It’s just you and me out here being awesome, mature grown-ups who have muscles and cats and great sex and talk like adults.”

He stares at me, his eyes travel all around my face.

My eyes, my mouth. He lifts up my chin with two fingertips and says, “I love you, Vivian. I knew I loved you that summer you went to Orcas Island with your family. I know now that I never stopped loving you even when I hated you.” He exhales, as if he just lifted his weight in words.

And then he kisses me, and I say into his kiss, “I love you too.”

And then I let him go home so both of us can give our racing, broken, healing hearts a chance to repair themselves some more.