Just One Look
Copyright© 2025 by DB86
Chapter 14
The next day at work, Marisa was dying for details about what happened on my ... date? Was it a date? I wasn’t sure. But it sure felt like one—even if all I got was a kiss on the cheek when I said goodbye.
“You look good, Pete,” Marisa said, giving me a once-over. “I’m starting to see a difference now that you’re not hiding under those baggy clothes. How much weight have you lost?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Derek says not to obsess over numbers. He says I’ll notice changes in my clothes and stamina before the scale catches up.”
Marisa nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I can definitely see a difference. You’ve lost a few inches, no doubt.”
Then she gave me a sassy grin. “So ... what did Rachel think of your new look, huh?”
Instead of answering, I picked up a folder from my desk and flipped through it. “We need to send a crew to this address.”
She didn’t take the folder. Instead, she crossed her arms and tapped her foot. That was never a good sign.
“Pete...”
I sighed. “It went well. We talked, cooked together, ate dinner, and I left. That’s it.”
“Did you get a kiss?”
“On the cheek.”
“Are you dating Rachel?”
“I don’t know.”
Marisa frowned. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean ... we spend a lot of time together. At the gym, outside of the gym. We hang out, we text, we talk on the phone for over an hour every day. I’m smiling more than I can remember. She says nice things. Encourages me. Yesterday, she even convinced me to go to the reunion.”
Marisa let out a low whistle. “Wow. Rachel really has you wrapped around her little finger. By the way, I tell you those things all the time, and you never listen to me.”
“You’re family. You’re biased.”
“True. But what she says clearly hits differently. Weeks ago, you were dead-set against going to your reunion. Now? You’re going. Face it, Pete—you have feelings for her.”
She looked at me with rare sincerity.
“And I think she likes you, too.”
I shook my head. “Diana says she likes me, too. We are friends.”
She groaned. “Just friends?”
“Friends is good. Have you seen her? Now that she lose weight she looks even better.”
“Actually, no. But looks don’t matter.”
I snorted. “Maybe they don’t when you’re a curvy Italian woman or a sexy redhead art teacher. But when you look like me? They matter. Remember my last blind date? She took just one look at me and practically sprinted out the door.
“Guys hit on Rachel all the time, even with her extra weight. You should’ve seen that sales guy at the mall. He was practically panting, circling her like a dog in heat.”
“And what did Rachel do?”
“She said he wasn’t her type. Said he was annoying her. Then she pretended we were a couple just to get rid of him.”
Marisa raised an eyebrow.
“But it wasn’t like that. It was just pretend.”
“And what about when you bumped into Bradley?”
“She, uh ... did the same thing. Pretended we were together, so he’d back off.”
Marisa raised both eyebrows this time, lips pursed.
“You weren’t there. It wasn’t like that.”
I pulled out my phone, scrolled through Instagram, and showed Marisa a few photos from the gym’s page where Rachel appeared.
Her eyes widened. “Whoa. Okay, she has a cute, round face and some serious curves.”
“Exactly. She’s a curvy goddess. Even the fittest guys at the gym hit on her. It’s subtle, but it happens. I’ve seen it.”
“And what does she do about it?”
“She mainly ignores them. Sometimes she makes some light conversation with them, but that’s it. She says they’re not her type.”
“She has a lot of not-my-types. So, what is her type?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe you should ask her.”
“Nah, I don’t think so.”
Marisa placed a hand on my arm. “Pete, you like Rachel more than you want to admit. And you’re scared to be rejected.”
I tapped the tip of my nose and nodded. She had nailed it.
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