Authors: Elizabeth Hayley
His brow furrowed slightly and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been testing me.
And I had failed miserably.
“Well, isn’t that just so sweet of you,” he said sarcastically as he continued with his meal.
I took another bite of my sandwich and racked my brain for something clever to say. I didn’t want our conversation to end like that. Why it mattered, I didn’t care to analyze. It just did.
“So, what got you started with CrossFit?”
I figured if anything would suck him back in, it would be the one thing that, as far as I knew, he was most passionate about.
“That’s a long story,” he replied, his eyes meeting mine again.
I looked at him expectantly, willing him to tell it to me.
“I played lacrosse in college . . . ,” and he was off.
He explained how, after playing collegiate sports, he had missed the competitive spirit that accompanied them. He wandered around the gym, going through the motions. Then, he found CrossFit and thus, found his calling.
I sat there rapt in his story, admiring his devotion to his job.
I hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed until Kyle tapped me on the arm.
“Hey, Amanda, it’s getting late.
You ready to go?”
“What time is it?”
“A little after ten.”
“A little after ten?
What are you, ninety? It’s Saturday night.”
“I’m actually eighty
, smartass. It’s been a long day and I’m driving to Lancaster in the morning to visit my parents.
“Yeah, Shane,” Kate
butt in, “I’m tired, too. Are you almost ready?”
I looked back at Shane who looked at his full beer.
“I guess,” he replied dryly.
Clearly Kate and Shane had also driven together.
“We really picked some duds to hang out with, huh?” I said to Shane, smiling widely so that Kate knew I was kidding.
I didn’t care what Kyle thought. “Wait,” a genius thought popped into my head, “Shane, did you drive or did Kate?”
“I did,”
“Okay, so Kyle, why don’t you take Kate home and Shane can take me home? I mean, I’m assuming you guys both live close to the gym?”
“Well, my car is actually at the gym,” Kate answered.
“That works. Kyle lives ten minutes from there. What about you Shane?” Adrenaline was coursing through me at the prospect of possibly getting to spend more time with Shane. I knew I could never act on these impulses, but it was still fun to have them. And I knew that nothing would send my impulses into overdrive like a car ride with Shane.
“Yeah, I live close to the gym.
I could give you a ride home.”
Jackpot!
“Okay, well, you’re sure?” Kyle asked me.
I wanted to snap at him that he had a lot of nerve acting like he gave a shit now.
He’d been ignoring me for hours. But instead, I smiled sweetly, “Yeah, I’m sure.”
A wide grin broke out on his face and I knew that he was happy to have the extra time with Kate.
I was definitely going to need to pump him for information the next day.
“Alright then.
I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” he asked me. I nodded in reply. “Great. Ready, Kate?”
“Yup, I’m ready.”
I watched as Kyle put his hand onto the small of Kate’s back.
He is definitely going to try and bang her.
We watched them leave and then Shane picked up his beer, holding it up to his lips for a few seconds before taking a sip.
He looked as if he were internally debating something.
“So,” he finally said as he set his glass down
and turned his face toward me, “what requirements were you guys talking about?”
My eyes darted to the seats across from us, thankfully finding them empty.
I hadn’t even registered that Joe and Emily had gotten up from the table. I looked at him blankly, trying to act like I had no idea what he was talking about. But of course I knew. I had already had to dodge this question once today. And judging from how he didn't waste any time asking it once we were alone, he clearly wanted to know the answer. I wasn’t going to be able to ignore it again. But that wouldn’t stop me from trying.
When I didn’t reply, he clarified, “At the competition.
When I walked up to you two, Kyle was saying something about not meeting your requirements. What does that mean?”
Well, shit.
How the hell was I supposed to explain this to him? I needed to calm down. This was Shane, a guy I had insulted almost daily for the past six months. There was no reason to be awkward. I just had to come out with it.
“Fucking Kyle,” I said with a snort and then instantly regretted it.
Not your best opening, Amanda.
“Okay, well, the truth is I kind of have rules about who I will and won’t date.”
Shane’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “You’re
shittin' me! You have
rules?
Let’s go, out with 'em.
I need to hear this.”
“You don’t need to hear anything,” I said, pretending to be affronted.
“It’s personal.”
“Not anymore.
Spill it.”
“No,” I said petulantly.
“Amanda, we can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. The easy way is you telling me your rules so I can berate you incessantly. The hard way is me incorporating burpees into every class you show up for. Choose wisely.” He narrowed his eyes at me, challenging me to doubt him.
His burpee threat hit below the belt
. A worse exercise had never been invented. I sighed heavily and started talking. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But you have to swear you won’t tell anyone.”
“Fuck that.
I’m broadcasting them on our website.”
“Shane,” I said warningly.
He let out a barking laugh. “I’m just teasing. I won’t tell anybody. I swear.”
I shook my head, not fully believing that I was actually going to tell him my rules.
“Well, the first one is that . . .” and that’s when I remembered the first rule.
How the hell was I going to tell him this
? He already made jokes about my promiscuity. Now he was going to know that he wasn’t that far off base. Fuck it. I had my rules for a reason. I’d never been ashamed of them before, and I wasn’t going to start now. “If I think a guy could be relationship material, then I sleep with him by the fourth date.” My eyes darted to Shane, who squirmed slightly. “I just don’t want to invest a ton of time into a guy who’s shitty in bed,” I explained simply.
Shane smirked slightly, “Have you met a lot of guys who were relationship material?”
I knew that this was his way of asking if I’d been with a ton of guys.
But I wasn’t sure whether I had or not. Everyone’s definition of a ton was different. “No, not too many. I mean, I don’t put notches in my bedpost, so I can’t give you a number. But I haven’t slept with the majority of Eastern Pennsylvania or anything.”
He considered my answer for a second before donning the look of a jubilant child again.
“Okay, so, Rule Number 2?”
My voice grew a bit quieter.
“I don’t date anyone who makes less money than I do.”
Shane’s eyes bulged slightly at this.
He had taken a sip of his beer, but now refused to swallow it, causing the liquid to puff out his cheeks. He stared at me incredulously for a moment. Finally, he swallowed and spoke. “Really? Why?”
Since Shane already kind of knew about Nate, I decided to be honest.
It was better than looking like a money-hungry hussy. “Do you remember the guy from the bar at Kate’s party? The one you saved me from?” He sat up a little straighter. This was now the second time I had told him he’d saved me. And as he leaned closer to me, I knew that he liked hearing it. “Well, the reason we didn’t work out was because he was insecure about me making more money than him. So, after he bolted, I decided that I wasn’t going to date men who didn’t earn at least as much as I did.”
He responded quickly, taking me by surprise.
“But not all men are insecure about stuff like that. You shouldn't lump us all together because of one asshole.”
My brain focused on his use of the word “us.”
Did he not want to be included in the same category as Nate because he didn’t care about the female in the relationship making more money in general, or he didn’t care if
I specifically
made more? Had he thought about being in a relationship with me? I had to shut this down.
“But some are
, you can’t deny that. And I don’t feel like sorting through them. My rule makes it a moot point. I like it that way.” There was finality in my voice, though probably more than I felt.
He pondered my words for a moment and then looked as if he
planned to debate with me but then thought better of it. “And Rule Number 3?”
This one was a piece of cake.
“No kissing in bars. Or really any public place for that matter. It’s trashy and tacky and gross.”
Shane lifted his hand in front of his mouth, trying to hide the smile that played on his lips.
But as his shoulders started shaking, he quickly gave up and began to laugh, loudly and uncontrollably. He finally held a hand up, signaling a silent apology, since he still wasn’t able to speak. Eventually he got it together. “Sorry, it’s just . . .” and the laughing seized him again.
“What, you jerk?
It’s just what?” I desperately wanted to be annoyed, but seeing his reaction made me giggle along with him.
“You’re . . .” his chest heaved two more times before he was able to get the words out. “You’re a sex snob.”
And the laughter roared again.
Sex snob?
I had to admit, that shit was clever, even though I didn’t find it completely accurate. “I’m not a snob,” I countered.
“Yes, you are.
You don’t date anyone who you think isn’t good enough for you.”
“Why would anyone want to date someone who isn’t good enough for them?” I countered.
“They wouldn’t. But your reasons are totally superficial.” He wasn’t laughing now. Neither of us was.
“No, they aren’t,” I argued.
“How aren’t they?”
“Superficial is when something only affects you on the outside. The shit that went down with Nate affected me much deeper than that. I’ll go to almost any length to prevent feeling that way again. My rules may seem superficial, but my reasons for them aren’t.” My voice was even and calm, which was a damn miracle because I was anything but those two things. I didn’t like having to justify myself to anyone. I was who I was, take me or leave me.
Shane was quiet for a minute, clearly trying to formulate his response carefully.
When he finally spoke, his voice was soothing, “Amanda, I’m sorry if I insulted you. I was just surprised. I didn’t know girls really had rules for who they’d date. I thought that kind of stuff was only in movies. I understand where you’re coming from. I mean, I think you’re crazy, but I get it.” A sparkle came to his eyes at his last comment, and I knew that he was calling me crazy in the most affectionate way possible.
“It’s fine, really.”
And I meant it. I knew how weird my rules sounded; that was why I rarely told anyone about them. But I knew that the rest of our evening would still be tense, each of us unsure of what the other was holding back. I needed to restore some humor to our conversation. “Besides, I kind of like the Sex Snob title. I may have to get a cape or something with that embroidered on it. Like a superhero.”
Shane laughed, “And what would your superpower be?”
I thought for a moment, bringing my index finger to my chin. “I would be able to end bad relationships with a flick of my wand.”
“Wand?
Are you a superhero or a fairy?”
“Whatever.
Sex snobs can be both.”
“Oh, okay,” he sarcastically conceded as he drank more of his beer.
“Guess you really are a nutjob.”
“Told you so,” I replied with a sly smile.
We fell back into easy conversation after that. Some more CrossFit Force members joined us from the bar and I had a spectacular time, sitting there bullshitting with people I barely knew.
At around midnight, everyone who was left settled up their tabs and headed home, including Shane and me.
The walk to the car was mostly quiet, as was the car ride home. I was fine with the silence, though. It felt . . . comfortable.
But my mouth can only stay closed for so long before it stiffens up and needs to
be stretched.
“What do you have going on the rest of the weekend?”
“Not too much.
I’m going rock climbing tomorrow.”
“Aren’t your muscles tired?
Give the poor things a break.”
“Nah,
it’s fun. Have you ever been?” he asked as he glanced at me briefly before returning his attention to the road.
“Nope.
I’ve always wanted to, though. It looks like a lot of fun.”