Page 52 of Touch Me
Sleep carried me away to a magical land.
I was officially in heaven.
Chapter Fifteen
I didn’t try hiding my excitement from Lolita. She had an uncanny sixth sense that prohibited me from concealing any feelings, good or bad.
Besides, I wanted to tell her about my latest adventure. I threw my gym towel over my shoulder and made a beeline for the woman in the orange and black Lycra suit, running at full speed on the treadmill. Lolly was a machine; she could outrun everyone at this gym, including the trainers. I’d seen her do it. Not that she boasted about it; that wasn’t her style.
“Hey, Lolly.” I hit her with a huge grin, and her eyes lit up.
“Hey, babe.” She wriggled her eyebrows. “Tell me.”
Like I thought, she didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll tell you over coffee.”
“Perfect.” She ramped the elevation on her treadmill up to maximum and picked up her pace.
Thank heaven for Lolly. Without her, I would’ve gone nuts trying to comprehend the crazy double life I’d been leading since the 1st of January. She helped me repeatedly analyze what I’d done and more importantly, helped convince me that I was doing nothing wrong.
According to Lolly, a girl needed to experiment with sex. And since the start of this year, that was exactly what I’d been doing. Experimenting. Not that I’d actually had sex yet, but I’d come very close.
I dialed the treadmill up to maximum speed and concentrated on pushing my body to the limit, as I watched the news on Sunrise and listened to Lolita belt out one tune or another from the songs on the iPod buds in her ears.
After twenty minutes, we moved from the treadmills to the mats. I began pushups, and Lolly lowered beside me to smash out her pushup routine.
“Give me a hint, babe. What did he look like?”
“He was smoking hot. Jamaican.”
She sucked in a breath, not from exertion but curiosity. “Black man, then?”
“No. I wouldn’t say black—more like molasses. You know, dark caramel. He had these amazing green eyes.”
She wriggled her head. “And a fabulous smile, I suppose.”
“How’d you guess?” We giggled.
A man’s smile was what caught my attention. I think I could fall in love with any shape of man provided his smile was genuine. All of us know how to put on a fake smile; it’s the genuine ones that were hard to come by.
After twenty minutes on the floor mats, we toweled off and headed to our table out the front of our favorite coffee shop. It wasn’t really our table, but every Tuesday for three years, Lolita and I did our routine at the gym and then caught up on each other’s lives at this coffee shop afterward.
Nine times out of ten, we sat at the same little round table out the front, which was perfect because it gave us an excellent view over the walking track that ran parallel to the beach and provided a certain level of privacy. Which, considering some of the topics we covered, was much more important.
Matt, the waiter with sad eyes and a fake smile, approached. “Same as usual, ladies?”
“Yes, please.” Lolly had green tea every time.
“I’ll have a skinny cappuccino and a slice of flourless orange cake, please.” I chose to ignore Lolly’s look of disgust at my treat.
“Heated up with cream and ice cream?” Matt asked.
“Of course.” I flashed a cheeky grin at Lolita. She didn’t appreciate the simple pleasure of a sugar fix.
“You’re undoing all that hard work in the gym, Jane.”
I shrugged. I didn’t care. I worked out so I could eat a treat whenever I wanted. Lolly would probably never understand.
She flicked her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder and clutched it with her hand. “Start at the beginning. I want to hear all about Mr. Jamaica.”