The little boy returns to his parents and Lakin gives them a wave of appreciation, slight embarrassment written on his face.

Lakin Ryan is not used to losing or finding himself in compromising positions. He maintains control in all areas of his life, whether in the business world, when he’s practicing jujitsu, or his personal life. Our friendship tests those boundaries for him, which is why he’s so eager to sleep with me so he can place “us” in a familiar box. Someone to conquer and move on, which is why Brooks has put his foot down against any “us” happening.

I take a drink of my soda, allowing myself more time to collect myself, and then grab my blue bowling ball. I take my typical granny shot stance and heave the ball down the lane. It moves rather slowly, spinning and twirling between the guide arrows. Finally, when it reaches the pins, it slams into them, forcing a domino effect, which results in a strike. I whirl around and throw my arms in the air in excitement.

“Take that!” I shout. “I think I’m winning…by a lot, Mr. Ryan.” I jump around in what can only be referred to as an uncoordinated attempt at a victory dance.

“You know, I would gladly lose again if it meant I got the chance to witness whatever that spectacle of movement was,” he jokes.

“Jealousy is not a pretty shade on you,” I jest, smiling as confidently as I can. “You only wish you could see this body move.” My eyes widen at what just came out of my mouth. I was bold, it was inappropriate, and there is no way I could follow through on the invitation. I stammer to find the words to correct my blunder, but nothing comes to mind.

I feel his eyes scan over my body, carefully planning his reaction. He takes his sweet time, evaluating my body language, and I squirm under his scrutiny. I’m always calm and collected, but this man has me rattled; my insides shake and thunder from the nerves his presence provokes.

He finally places the chips on the bench and stands next to meet me on the wooden floor. My eyes search his, waiting for what, I don’t know, but the weight of the air between us is strangling me. I’m struggling and only his words will rescue me.

One hand snakes around my waist and delicately pulls me to him, while the other grabs the base of my neck. He inches closer to me causing my heart to pound in my chest.

“You don’t scare me, Campbell,” he whispers. “You don’t want to rock the boat, so you pretend this is nothing more than a friendship, but we both know that’s a lie.”

He kisses my cheek, slow and tender, and just when I think he might finally move his lips to mine to silence my aching misery, he pulls away from me.

“I’m here when you’re ready, but until then, I’m done chasing you, Cam.” He looks into my eyes, searching for a green light from me. I feel the pain in his voice as he delivers each word. He has launched the ball into my court and is waiting for me to hurl it back.

But I can’t. I stand motionless, unable to say the words he wants to hear.

The silence engulfs us; the tension increasing to an unbearable degree.

“That’s what I thought,” he says, nodding his head, his disappointment evident. He quickly grabs his shoes and walks to the parking lot, not even stopping to return his rentals.

I bite back the tears and swallow the throbbing knot in my throat. He’s right; it’s a lie. I’m a liar who has sacrificed a relationship with a man I could love more than the only family I have.

I watch him walk out the door, and as soon as it closes, a renegade tear escapes. I brush it away as hastily as it fell. Taking a deep breath to gather my emotions, I slide off my rental shoes and put my Converse back on. I don’t rush as I push the shoes back onto the counter nor when I walk to my car. Instead, I let the gravity of the evening, of our conversation, sink in.

I’ve lost Lakin.

Lakin

When I walk out of the bowling alley, I’m so pissed and so hurt that I can’t think straight. I don’t know where to go or who should have to pay for my misery, but I want someone to feel my wrath.

That’s not correct; I know exactly who should pay for my anger…Brooks. If he had just minded his own fucking business, if he had never said anything to Campbell, we would be a couple and we would be enjoying a nice evening celebrating her birthday.

I text Brooks and tell him to meet me at the gym to blow off steam. I figure a few rounds on the mats will make me feel slightly better; I don’t have many other options. Dressed and ready by the time Brooks pulls in, I bounce from one foot to the other to get the blood flowing and my body awake for the match. My hands are wrapped, I’m stretched, and I’m ready to provoke him into a dual of warriors.

Oblivious to my mood or my need to beat the shit out of him, he happily bounds across the parking lot to meet me for our bout. He’s dressed in his athletic clothes, so I just give him a head bob to acknowledge he’s here and wave him over to the mats.

“It’s been a while, Lakin. Is there a reason for our evening workout?” he asks cheerily, but I sense the suspicion in his voice.

“Like you said, it’s been a while. Besides, I needed to get out of the house.” My response is clipped; I’m here to use my fists, not words.

Brooks nods. “Yeah, me too. The kids are doing a Disney movie marathon, and I just cannot watch Sleeping Beauty anymore. Vivian can handle the crew.” He smiles devilishly as he stretches his legs and arms.

I barely hear his explanation as I focus on staying warm. Bouncing from side-to-side, I wait for his signal to begin. We are usually pretty evenly matched and I need to find an advantage to win. So instead of waiting for the customary handshake, as soon as he steps on the mat, I take that as the go-ahead. Lunging forward, I lift him off the mat and slam him to the ground. I instantly jump up and wait for him to recover, so I can attack again.

It temporarily knocks the wind out of him, but when he catches his breath, he shoots me a glare that shows his dissatisfaction with my unsportsmanlike conduct. As soon as his feet are solidly planted on the ground, I lunge again, pushing him until he trips and lands on the mat once again.

I hop up and he quickly follows suit. “I’m getting the feeling that this isn’t a friendly workout. Mind explaining what the fuck is going on and why you are insistent on putting me in my place?” he asks.

We circle around each other, both in a fighting stance, waiting for the other to pounce. “I don’t know what you mean, big brother,” I say coolly. “I’m just getting rid of the stress of the day.”

He stands straight up and wipes the sweat from his brow. “That’s how it’s going to be, huh?” he asks. I take a swing at him and he throws his forearm up to block it.

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” he says as he bends back down into a defensive position.

We continue to circle each other, taking turns throwing jabs or connecting roundhouse kicks. It isn’t long before we are both sweaty and breathing heavily…no one a clear winner.

“You know adults talk about their problems instead of using their fists,” he says between labored breaths.

“That’s rich coming from the man who used to use pussy as a pain reliever,” I spit out.

His eyes squint and his nostrils flare. I’ve struck a nerve; I knew it would, but I threw it out there anyway. The insult hangs in the air while Brooks weighs his options, fight or flight. If he’s the brother I grew up with, he’s going to charge, so I brace myself for the impact.

“Grow the fuck up, Lakin,” he snaps. “You know, this is exactly why I told Campbell to stay away from you, when she asked about you. You’re a child who has no concept of what it takes to love a woman properly.”

His reference to Campbell has me seeing red. I say nothing, but my body shakes with anger. How dare he think I couldn’t love her the way she should be loved? What a self-righteous asshole to put that shit on me.