Letting Go

Apologies and Offers

Kane's POV

     I had seen Dillan come inside, and I felt guilty when I saw the lost look in his eyes as if he couldn't figure out where he was. His boss intercepted him and I watched as the two of them made their way upstairs to the office.

       I've been wiping down all the machines and surfaces in the gym, and I must say all this moving and shit is just as much of a work out as stretching.

        And Dillan makes it look so much easier than what it really is.

        I feel another wave of guilt crash over me but I know it's not as selfless as it may seem. One thing I always learned when it comes to dealing with people, is that you never want to owe them anything. Whether it's because of a favor they did or you fucking up, owing someone, especially if it's not a predetermined agreement is the worst thing you can do.

      They will hold it over your head, talk shit about it to you, and then not cash it in just to have you on your toes about what they did for you. Whether it's something as little as writing a recommendation versus loaning a thousand dollars.

      In the lands of the Elite and Rich, the real power always come from connections, information and leverage. Always leverage.

     And though I hate and despise most of the shit my mom taught me as I grew into my teenage years, what she says about favors are true: Never owe anyone a favor unless they're about to die soon, or you can do it immediately.

      And right now it seems like I owe Dillan a lot of favors.

      All because my fucking family can't leave me alone for two seconds and let me live the life I want without interference.

       So now, I have to find a way to get this favor out of the way with Dillan so that it's not hanging over my head like it is now. There's no doubt in my mind that this little fuck up is going to be used against me at some point in time and the best way to avoid that is by nipping it in the bud.

       As I spray down the treadmill, I begin to try to think to myself the best way to approach him and ask him what he wants to do.

      Scratch that.

      Giving him an option will only make this shit worse.

      I curse to myself as I try to think of something that it seems like Dillan would want to do before I hear the sound of voices coming from above me. When I look up a see a better looking Dillan coming down the stairs with a worried looking boss.

       Though the older man disappears into the locker room he pulled me into earlier, to my surprise, Dillan is coming over to where I am, though his eyes refuse to meet mine. For a second I think covering his shift until he got here was enough to appease what I did, but I don't think that would suffice for either him or his very protective manager.

       When he arrives at the bike I'm at, he continues to hold the gaze of the bottle in my hand instead of my face.

        "Thanks for covering. I got it from here." He tells me and the insincerity that I hear in his voice only confirms that this is not enough. Since I can't think of anything right now, I not to him and step back, placing the tag on the bottle and handing it to him. The spray isn't snatched from my grasp but the grip he held on to while taking it away was anything but soft.

       Deciding to let it go, I walk away from the man that unknowingly has me in his grasp right now, my mothers hold on me still tight even after years of trying to pull away.

✨✨✨

       By the time I finally finish my work out it's around two in the afternoon, three hours later than I usually want to finish, but since I don't have anything else to do today, I ignore my watch as I clear up the place I was using.

      During my last round of work outs, I finally got an idea of what I could do with Dillan and just as I thought, the man is starting to get ready for the end of his shift as I walk over.

        "Hey." I say, calling out to the man to grab his attention. He turns his head and looks over to me with a weary but expectant gaze.

          "How may I help you?" He asks, going the professional route which makes my lips twitch a little bit as I open my mouth to ask a question that I never would.

         "Would you like to go out for a drink tonight?" I ask him and his eyebrows shoot up from his forehead so fucking fast, I'm a bit scared they'll fly off.

        "You want to go for a drink?" He asks me as if the entire concept is the stupidest shit he's ever heard. Maybe if I wasn't such the dick that I am, the story would be believable. But instead of placing myself in a bigger hole by lying, I decide to be honest. "Let me take you to a bar I know as an apology for today. I'll go home, get changed and come back for you in an hour." I offer.

       From what I've seen of this man, he has a problem with drinking, which means there's no possible way he'll turn down a free drink.

        "Fine. One hour." He says and he turns to walk away from me to finish his routine.

         With the fish on the hook I walk out the building with a smile on my face.

~~~~~~
Time to eat again I swear, if my metabolism was any faster than it is, I would literally die. I fucking hate it. So it's time to go fill myself up only to be hungry in thirty minutes.

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