Valentina falls into step beside me as soon as I exit the locker room. "Brent, I know you weren't in the mood earlier," she says. "But I haven't posted anything today."
Lately I've been wondering whether her interest in me is directly tied to the influencer status she's building off my abs. Last week she told me about another brand who'd reached out to her for a deal...as long as I was willing to participate. When I told her no, we got into a giant fight. Seems to be the pattern. She oversteps. I tell her no. She flies to Mars on the strength of her anger.
Don't get me wrong. She has a banging hot body, and the make-up sex is next level. We used to have fun together, but I'm not sure we've ever wanted the same things.
"Not today, Val." I sigh. "And not tomorrow or anytime this weekend either."
"Oh, please. We're going to Bermuda for Trev's wedding. Of course I'm going to be taking photos. People are dying for them."
"But they're not dying for them, are they?" I shove my swim bag higher onto my shoulder. "Trev already asked for a social media ban on the wedding." I glare at her. "For everyone. That means you too."
"Fine. I'll just post them when we get back."
I whirl on her in the courtyard outside the athletic center. "You're missing the point." I run a frustrated hand through my hair. "This isn't working anymore." The words are out of my mouth before I can consider them. But they're true. I've been frustrated and angry with her more than I've been happy for months. We've broken up before, and I've let us slide back together. My swim schedule has allowed me to ignore my feelings for the most part, but the thought of an entire weekend with her isn't a joy.
"If I don't post every day, the algorithm penalizes me." She's staring at her phone, flicking through various apps.
Her dismissive attitude hardens my resolve. "We aren't working anymore."
She snaps to attention, and she slides her phone into the pocket of her winter coat. Her dark eyes blaze when she meets my gaze, and she tosses her jet-black hair over her shoulder.
Here comes the onslaught, and I'm done with the dramatics. With her, it never ends.
"I'm building your brand. You're not going to be an Olympic athlete forever. We have to think about the future. Beyond all this." She makes a sweeping gesture to the athletics' facility behind us.
"I never asked you to do that." In fact, I don't want it. My degree at Northern University is my exit strategy. Business management is pretty fucking versatile. Pimping my body on social media isn't on my to-do list when this is over.
"You don't need to, baby. I'm building everything for us."
"Except it's starting to feel like you're creating it for you. The latest brand that wanted to leech onto me sells high end makeup. I looked it up, Val. Why would they want me in their ad campaign?"
"Brent—"
"We're done. Seriously. D. O. N. E. I'm out."
She smirks. "We both know you don't mean it. You'll be back." Her jaw tightens, and she glares at me. "I'm getting really tired of you starting fights and breaking up with me over nothing."
"Which is exactly why we're always fighting. You're not listening to me. I really need you to hear me when I say we're over. I'm breaking the cycle." I slice a hand through the air between us. While a permanent break has been coming for a while, I didn't expect to do it before our long weekend away. The reality of what this weekend would look like should have hit me earlier. She's obsessed with updating her socials and wedging me into a future I don't want. This weekend would have been more of the same. Fighting and fucking.
"We're going away together," she scoffs. "You can't breakup with me right before we leave. Talk about awkward."
She's not upset. Shouldn't that tell her something? "I can. That's what I'm doing. Right now." I take my phone out of my pocket. "I'm cancelling your flight even as we speak."
"You'll lose your money."
"I paid the extra for cancellation. I'll be fine." I glance up at her.
"You can't be serious!"
I close my phone and slide it into my pocket. "I am serious. I can't believe you're happy with the endless fights. Who'd want that?"
"We fight a bit. Big deal. People argue. I want you."
"Nah. You want what I can give you. There's a difference, and I've ignored it, but I can't pretend anymore."
"God, Brent," she huffs out. "You're so fucking cold and emotionless. You're dumping me before we go to your best friend's wedding in Bermuda? You're unbelievable." She sticks her hands on her hips and whips her hair around. "Good luck finding someone who puts up with your shit like I did." Val gives me the finger and storms away.
I'm cold and emotionless? Her rebuttal to me breaking it off was the cost of an airline ticket. No declarations of love (there haven't been any on either side, but still...), and no commitment to changing her attitude.
The whole way back to my apartment, I re-play our conversation with better comebacks and increased frustration. By the time I reach the building, I'm over-the-top angry. I shove my key into the lock and open the door.
"Hey, man," Jaxon calls from his bedroom. "What time's your flight? Is Val coming here or..."
"We broke up!" I carry my bag to the bathroom and start tossing my wet clothes onto drying racks.
"What? Again?" Jaxon pops his blond head out of the door. "You trying to escalate the makeup sex to the next level for your weekend or what?"
I release a dark chuckle, and I meet him in the hallway. "Nah, we're done. I'm serious this time."
"We'll see. Being around her is some kinda chemical reaction for you. No way you're giving that up."
"Just did." I raise my fist. "I am man. Hear me roar."
Jaxon beats his chest in mock solidarity. "Whatever. The two of you will be back together after this weekend. Hell, I wouldn't put it past her to show up at the airport. She's still got a spot in your hotel room and a ticket to Bermuda?"
"Not the ticket," I say. "I cancelled that in front of her."
Jaxon barks out a laugh. "You're such an ass. I love it." He shakes his head. "She'll show up at the airport, guaranteed. She's the biggest cling-on I've ever met."
I rock back on my heels and frown. "You don't like her."
"Dude, none of us like her. But you seem to enjoy her." He shrugs. "You need a rebound to take to Bermuda or Valentina is going to crash that wedding hard."
I'm stuck on the notion none of my friends liked her. Other than her hot body, what did I like about her? Am I shallow? I think I might be shallow.
Jaxon chuckles. "Your brain is in overdrive. I'd go with you and help you keep your dick in your pants, but I promised my mom I'd be home this Thanksgiving. I've missed the last two."
"Nah, it's fine. I'll text some people. Someone will be up for it." I scroll through my contacts and start texting women I used to screw around with before I let Valentina suck me into her orbit.
"Thanksgiving weekend might be a tough sell, even if it is Bermuda." He takes out his phone. "I'm in this campus group chat. People on there are always looking for a last-minute co-signer to their adventures. Throw up a message."
I raise my eyebrows. "A complete stranger?"
Jaxon shrugs. "It's a weekend. What's the harm?"
My phone pings with a message from him with a link to the chat, and then it pings with three more responses to my 'what's up' text message. So far, they've all got weekend plans and questions about my status with Valentina.
"Maybe I don't need to take someone," I hedge.
He slips his phone into his front pocket. "She'll show up, get on her knees, and your naked bod will be all over her socials by the end of the weekend. I'll even put money on that. Big money. How much you want to bet?"
Without too much trouble, I can imagine his scenario playing out. When another rejection arrives in my text messages, I open Jaxon's link.
"Group chat it is," I say. "Should I make a point of saying I don't want any drama?" I bite my lip.
"You using your real name in there?" Jaxon peers over my shoulder.
"Initials."
"Use the drama line. It's a good one." Jaxon slaps me on the back and heads into his room to finish packing for the weekend.
The first woman I chat with already seems high maintenance. I couldn't have spelled out no drama any clearer. I frown at my phone for a beat when someone named Jensen jumps in.
"Jax, do you know a Jensen on campus?"
"Jensen." He leans against his bedroom door and stares up at the ceiling. "Only Jensen I know is a last name. It's a first name?"
"Seems like."
"Gotta be a dude. Maybe it's Jensen Ackles."
I chuckle. "Gonna go out and slay some demons in Bermuda." I mull it over for a beat. A bros weekend wouldn't be so bad. Whoever it is can be a buffer between me and Valentina if she really does turn up. Jaxon is right—my ex is a wild card. I write back and while I wait for him to get back to me, I field a few other questions from random people.
"He's in. Sent me his flight details already." I scan the screenshot for a name, but there's a black box over his payment details. Smart, actually.
"Sweet. It's a dick party." Jaxon grins. "He can be your wingman for your rebound hookup at the wedding. Any of the bridesmaids single?"
I let out a sigh, and for the first time since I left the athletics' complex, a twinge of sadness sneaks in. While Valentina might not have been my ideal girlfriend, she put up with my hectic training and travel schedule as long as I let her take an excessive number of photos when I was around. Most girls are not cool with being ignored, and I am laser focused on my next set of Olympic medals.
Instead of seeking a lackluster relationship, I should be looking for short-term hookups. No commitment. No chance of hurt feelings. No one gets let down. My focus can stay on hunting down Michael Phelps's records one race at a time.
"I don't know if any of them are single," I say. "But I guess Jensen and I will be finding out this weekend."
Jaxon gives me a high five and heads back into his room. I follow his lead and go into my bedroom to pack for the weekend.
Fingers crossed this Jensen dude is up for some fun.
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Update: Thursday
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