Between Boyfriends (Book 1 in the Between Boyfriends Series)

Chapter 7

"Eew, is this drool?" Jan said in a self-mocking tone. She took one hand off the wheel of her Jeep and hit herself in the forehead. "I can't believe I said that," she chastised.

Jan had woken up ten minutes earlier, figured out that she had fallen asleep on Bob's desk, asked herself the aforementioned question, and ascertained that yes, the wet stuff she had on her cheek was in fact drool, hers.

She'd fled the workout room in embarrassment, hadn't bothered to change or shower, and was peeling out of the parking lot before Bob could say, "Would you like a tissue?"

She had wiped the drool off with her hand and then wiped her hand on her sweaty workout shorts. She felt disgusting.

"Why am I so stupid?" she continued, reaching for her CD case. She flipped through her CDs, one eye on the road and one eye scanning for the perfect music to ease her embarrassment. Oddly enough, she couldn't find anything that fit her particular situation. She settled on her old standby, Godsmack; she definitely needed "Serenity".

She felt a little better on the drive home, but as she reached her apartment complex she became paranoid that someone she knew would see her and respond with horror. She was judging this reaction based on what her mother would think. She parked in the handicap spot directly in front of the entrance, darted from her car like a mad woman, and ran up the flight of stairs in record time. She slowly peeked around the corner to see if anyone was in the hallway before flattening herself to the wall Mission Impossible-style and slinking slowly toward her apartment.

She had finally reached her apartment and was unlocking the door when an all-too-familiar voice floated out of the stairwell.

Lisa must be back from the movie. Oh no!

Jan panicked. The key suddenly became slippery, the lock was stuck, and Jan's hands began to shake. Then miraculously, just as Jan saw Lisa and Becki come out of the stairwell, her door opened and momentum carried her forward into her apartment.

"Jan?" they both cried with concern. Jan had stumbled and fell, but caught herself on her hands and knees. From her position on the floor, Jan could easily hear four feet smacking the ground, moving loudly in her direction.

She crawled the rest of the way inside and kicked the door shut with her foot.

"Jan?" came Lisa's slightly muffled voice through the door. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm great. Thanks for asking."

Pause. "Um, are you on the ground? You're voice sounds lower than usual. I mean... never mind. You sure you're okay? Can we come in?"

Jan was in fact still on the ground, on all fours, and panting like a dog. Her heart was racing a mile a minute, and panic-induced adrenaline was causing her heart to pump faster than the caffeine from two triple-shot soy mochas.

She pushed herself up before answering, "I'm fine. I'm just in the middle of something right now." The middle of what? I just got home.

"Okay, well, come over when you're done," Lisa said. "I want to know how everything went at the country club."

"Sure thing. Be over soon."

Although Jan was tired, sweaty, and felt a little light-headed, she was also very proud of her attempted workout and wanted to share her success.

She skipped to the shower with a self-congratulatory grin on her face.

During the rather enjoyable process of rinsing off the sweat and traces of drool, Jan questioned her definition of "success". She'd managed to exhaust herself on an exercise machine, but without turning it on, and set up an appointment with a trainer that she didn't intend to keep. Not much to gloat about there.