Moving the Goal Line by Harley Burke

Author:Harley Burke [Burke, Harley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

|WESLEY|

My efforts to exercise away the memory of Daisy's lips on mine feel futile, like fighting an unwinnable battle. If I thought my obsession with her was bad before, it’s impossible now. Since the moment my lips touched hers this morning, she has become the only thing I can see or think about. My brain has effectively become a never-ending run of ‘The Daisy Show.’

She’s become an addiction I can’t shake.

Even now, I can’t do a bench press without seeing her freckles in my mind. I’ve been in the gym since two-thirty this afternoon and it’s now headed to five o’clock. I’m staying later than I’d have liked to avoid the risk of seeing Daisy on my way out, but it’s clear I probably don’t even need to worry about it. Practically no one is here. The stadium is nearly empty besides the custodial staff. Everybody dipped out early for the holiday and everything is halted until after Thanksgiving. A fact that I am both grateful for and resentful of. Grateful because it means my sessions with Daisy are on pause and I have time to think. But I’m also irritated by this because it means my sessions with Daisy are on pause and I won’t get to see her.

I’m having some complicated feelings, clearly.

Despite pushing myself harder than ever before, as the hours pass by, my mind always finds its way back to one person. It’s almost instinct at this point; the way every thought I have holds a loophole to find a reason to bring her to mind. She is becoming a planet and it seems no matter how much I try I am becoming a moon trapped in her orbit. A fact that is maddening.

What makes this even more maddening is that I still don’t know what the fuck to do about it. For all this thinking, I’m no closer to a solution for the shitstorm I’ve gotten myself in than I was when I first ran out of the rehab room like a pussy. I can’t help but grimace at that thought. What idiot kisses a girl and then has a meltdown and runs away? What am I, a teenage girl in a romance movie?

Growling to myself, I readjust my prone body on the bench and push the bar up several times, grunting softly. I’m grateful that I’ve finally hit my eight-week mark for healing my collarbone so I can actually workout again. Maybe if I bench hard enough, I can get away from the memories of how soft her skin was or how her lips tasted vaguely of fruit and a sweetness I have to imagine is just her. I’ve upped the weight three times already, hoping that if it’s extra heavy, I’ll be extra focused. It’s not the weight I used to bench, even I’m not dumb enough to risk reinjuring myself by benching nearly three hundred pounds.

But despite the weight still causing me strain, I’m not focused on lifting. Instead, I find myself wondering how much Daisy weighs.

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