Belatedly, Foreman realized that he'd spent the time Amber was getting ready without making any preparations himself. He looked up at her, surprised all over again that she wasn't abandoning him the second he showed how much was wrong in his life. Could be she was just smoothing it over for the sake of not fighting...except Amber had never once backed down from a fight. Foreman didn't get it, and he wanted to ask her why. He wet his lips, but he didn't say anything. He couldn't participate in the charade that they were going to for fun and games. Maybe he could do that after he'd put in a punishing workout. Run away on a treadmill, at least he wouldn't be lost when he was done.
He grabbed his runners out of his sports bag and pulled them on, leaving the laces loosely tucked in around his ankles. He pulled on his coat. It had been frosty when he'd gone out earlier. When everything had seemed so damn perfect and he'd gone to get the clothes that he could leave at her place. Like her offer had been meant in any permanent sense. He doubted it. Only until she'd seen enough of him. Or only until her family had rendered its judgement. Foreman could almost hear the word unsuitable hanging over them. One more thing to shake off. He picked up his gym bag and headed for the door. There had to be something he could say to at least start to fix whatever the hell had gone wrong. He'd told her before he didn't want to talk about his family, but he'd been the one to bring up the subject. Why shouldn't she be curious in return? They'd just been talking, and it had felt good...
Foreman used his remote-starter and then waited for Amber to lock the door behind them. It was sunny and clear, but the air was still chilly and damp. Foreman pulled in a breath. The reset started now. No fucking temper tantrums. "Thanks," he said, focusing his gaze on the street instead of Amber. "For coming." Was there anything else he could say? She'd talked about kicking his ass, and yeah, the idea of watching her try and beat him in the paint still tugged at him. He wanted to get there, but he wanted her to understand that he wouldn't be ready to play just because they got out of the apartment. "I'll book us a court, but I want--" Need, but that sounded too stupid for words. "To work out first." He didn't add if that's okay. It had damn well better be.
no subject
He grabbed his runners out of his sports bag and pulled them on, leaving the laces loosely tucked in around his ankles. He pulled on his coat. It had been frosty when he'd gone out earlier. When everything had seemed so damn perfect and he'd gone to get the clothes that he could leave at her place. Like her offer had been meant in any permanent sense. He doubted it. Only until she'd seen enough of him. Or only until her family had rendered its judgement. Foreman could almost hear the word unsuitable hanging over them. One more thing to shake off. He picked up his gym bag and headed for the door. There had to be something he could say to at least start to fix whatever the hell had gone wrong. He'd told her before he didn't want to talk about his family, but he'd been the one to bring up the subject. Why shouldn't she be curious in return? They'd just been talking, and it had felt good...
Foreman used his remote-starter and then waited for Amber to lock the door behind them. It was sunny and clear, but the air was still chilly and damp. Foreman pulled in a breath. The reset started now. No fucking temper tantrums. "Thanks," he said, focusing his gaze on the street instead of Amber. "For coming." Was there anything else he could say? She'd talked about kicking his ass, and yeah, the idea of watching her try and beat him in the paint still tugged at him. He wanted to get there, but he wanted her to understand that he wouldn't be ready to play just because they got out of the apartment. "I'll book us a court, but I want--" Need, but that sounded too stupid for words. "To work out first." He didn't add if that's okay. It had damn well better be.