#Chapter142
Troubled
It’d been a week since I planned on approaching Megan and asked her if we could talk over a coffee. I scoffed. Now, I’m weird. Over a coffee? Yeah, I kinda knew what coffee she liked. Just the word talk made me wince in an embarrassment of not having the guts to ask her. Every time I saw her number on my phone, my brain froze and stopped me from dialing.
After wiping my sweat off my forehead, I slumped my ass to the bench, lied down flat, and did a few bench pressing. Then, I placed the weight back, sat up, and growled out a curse.
/"You’re distracted, man./" DJ Kyan breathed heavily after stepping out of the treadmill. Then propped his hands on his hips, looking down at me. /"Try sharing. It’s not bad to talk to someone and ask for help once in a while. Just don’t ask me for cash./"
/"I’m good, dude,/" I denied, raking my fingers through my damped hair.
