Not Another Player

3.Hit That

Material Girl // Madonna

An hour later I'm still in Brianna's home gym with Zack. Yeah, yeah, he calls it his home gym because Brianna rarely uses it, but like I've told him a million times, I will never think of this place as his. He tells me to screw off every time I say it, but the truth is he's a kept man. He runs a Dojo. He's not a multimillionaire producer or some Hollywood elite power couple with her. He's a failed model with a blackbelt.

Bah.

Even I can't stand my shitty attitude. Instead of ripping Zack apart in my mind, I do fifteen more crunches as punishment for my bad mood. I could blame it on the failed audition, but I'd rather blame Char.

Blaming her actually fuels me with enough fire to finish the workout Zack had me doing, my second of the day already. He better not even attempt to force me to do my third, let alone fourth, like he's done for the last two months. I may be shredded but I need a day to wallow. Bad news mixed with bad banter makes me sad. Not that I'd admit it to anyone.

Finished with the workout, sweat dripping everywhere, I guzzle a bottle of fancy, popstar water.

"What's in this?" I say out loud, not really asking, but Zack answers me anyway.

"Water." He's using kettle bells to build his biceps.

Showoff.

"Yeah, course. But why does it taste better than regular water?"

"It is regular water."

"No, it's bottled water."

"Still just water."

"No, it's better than just water. I hate just water. This water, I can drink."

"I feel like we've had this conversation before. Didn't you used to harass me about my protein shakes when we were roommates?"

"You mean your milkshakes?" I keep a straight face knowing I just tossed a grenade at Zack. He's oddly protective about his protein shakes.

"Yup. That's the one. Keep telling yourself that protein shakes are the same as milkshakes and bottled water is more watery than just water, whatever." Zack puts the kettle bell back on the rack and wipes his forehead with a towel.

But now I'm sipping the water wishing it was a milkshake. Or something stronger after the day I just had. I never did get that vodka I demanded Zack bring me. He made me workout instead of letting me get hammered. What a friend.

Am I an alcoholic? Two beats, maybe three go by before I dismiss the idea. Nah, I drink milkshakes more often than alcohol. In fact, I'd rather have a big chocolate shake than a glass of vodka if I'm being honest with myself. Sugar comma for the win. I am pissed off, however. Remembering the exchange with Char has me more upset than the audition.

Why is she so hot?

Why do I love the fire in her eyes, the heat? I want that heat directed at me. I love the burn. Crave it. It's the biggest fucking turn on, and I can't get enough. Just thinking about it right now has me semi-hard. The looks she gave me.

"What do you have going on this week?" Zack asks, knocking me out of my fantasy.

I adjust my shorts and myself as discreetly as possible. "Nothing now that I got the ax for that movie. You?"

"Packing, getting the schedule cleared at the Dojo to be gone on this tour after the Salt Creek show this weekend." Zack stops and looks at me, his eyes narrowed and somehow boring into the side of my head.

"What?"

"Come on tour with us," he says unceremoniously. "We need roadies. You have no job, no role, nothing holding you here."