Love, Comment, Subscribe by Cathy Yardley
CHAPTER 14
Lily didn’t usually work out on Sundays. She usually took it as a lazy day off—well, as lazy as she got. She promoted whatever video she’d posted, went over content stuff for the week, looked at other YouTubers’ content, logged her stats, and tracked her progress on social media. Nothing as intensive as actually filming and editing. If she was lucky, she indulged in a nice brunch or something with a friend like Val and her wife. But ever since she’d recorded with Tobin, she’d felt . . . antsy. Like a battery that had been overcharged and was consequently overheating.
As a result, she’d asked Mikki if he wanted to hit the gym, which was one of his favorite things. Which is how she found herself at a gym in Westwood Village, near Mikki’s apartment and UCLA, walking steadily on a treadmill while looking out over Wilshire Boulevard.
“The hotties are checking you out today,” Mikki noted, increasing the incline on his neighboring treadmill. “I mean, they’re sort of frat boy, but if you like that sort . . .”
“We could’ve gone to that gym in WeHo,” she pointed out.
“True, but that would’ve been for me. I figured we’d go somewhere there were prospects for you.” He smiled at her. “You said you wanted a hookup, did you not?”
She shushed him hastily. “Why not just announce it over the loudspeaker?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t know you were trying to be all discreet about it. Is there an interview process too?”
“I just told you that I was feeling a little, um, wound up,” she tried to say delicately. “And that finding someone to help me unwind was welcome.”
“Wow. Way to be subtle.” He snickered. “Sweetie, you can say that you just want to hit it. No shame.”
“I’m not ashamed! It’s just . . . there’s a difference between being open to meeting someone for a casual, erm, you know,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat in a way that had nothing to do with the speed of her treadmill, “and posting a free-for-all Craigslist ad saying open for business, anyone welcome.”
“You’re picky, which I can appreciate,” Mikki said with a sniff. “Sometimes a little too picky, though, especially considering we’re talking, like, a one-night stand.” He paused. “Which is what we’re talking about, right? Do you still have your Bumble profile?”
“You know how I feel about apps,” she said, suppressing a groan. “Why do men feel like their dick pic is some kind of positive advertisement? Seriously.”
“If you’re looking for sex,” Mikki pointed out, “isn’t it, though? I am serious. I have no idea what straight women are looking for, and I am okay with that.”
She shot a glance at him, increasing her speed. He matched it easily. “I mean, you don’t like a bunch of janky pictures of randos’ junk sent to you, do you?”
Mikki laughed. “I do get a bunch of janky pictures of randos’ junk, so I get what you’re saying, but I also get the occasional nice—and solicited—specimen, so I can see how some men would get confused.”
She sighed. “It’s just so demoralizing. I think that’s why I’ve just ignored it for . . .” She did some mental math. It turned out to be harder than she thought. “A while. A long while.”
“When was your last boyfriend?” Mikki asked, frowning and apparently doing his own math. “It was that Insta model, yeah? What was his name?”
“Rafael,” she said, wincing. He was beautiful and ambitious, and for a while, that had been enough. They hadn’t exactly had long conversations when they’d been together, and she’d spent so much time working that what they had was perfect—he didn’t demand anything, he understood her pursuits, and he had his own stuff going on. Of course, she hadn’t realized that he was seeing three other women for the same purpose until she’d seen pictures of his “girlfriend” and himself in a compromising position accidentally posted on his public Instagram account. She’d known they were casual, but that had just stung.
“Rafael, right. Good lord, was that two years ago?” Mikki’s eyes widened. “You’ve been living like a nun for two years?”
“No, I haven’t,” she snapped. “There was that one guy, from the launch party for Jacqueline’s Fierce palette. And . . . um . . . that other guy. From Tinder.”
Which, incidentally, was why she no longer used Tinder.
“So you’ve only had bad sex for two years?” Mikki amended, appalled.
She sighed. “I really need to rethink having these conversations with you in public places.”
“Sweetie, I don’t know that hooking you up with guys is in my wheelhouse,” Mikki said, frowning. “I’m not necessarily that gay best friend, you know?”
“You push me outside my comfort zone and get me to do stuff I need to do, even when I’m whining or dragging my feet,” she said with a smile that Mikki returned. “I focus more on the ‘best friend’ bit of the equation.”
They were companionably quiet for a moment as Mikki mulled over her dilemma. Then he looked past her and frowned. “I am not just saying this,” he said in a low voice, “but a lot of guys seem to be checking you out. Or possibly me. But I’m thinking you.”
She started to glance over to where he was looking, in the free weights area. Sure enough, a number of guys were staring at them intently. Several seemed to be whispering to each other, excited.
She felt a shiver of discomfort. This didn’t seem like leering, which on the one hand was good, but on the other hand—what the hell were they looking at?
She looked down at her black shorts. Had her period started, and she didn’t know it? She tried to look at herself as innocuously as possible. No, she seemed fine.
“Ten dollars says one of those frat boys comes up and asks you out,” Mikki teased. “They seem really, really interested.”
“Or I’ve got camel-toe that’s internet worthy,” Lily shot back, causing Mikki to burst out laughing.
“Take the compliment, sweetie,” Mikki said. “You wanna do some of the machines? I’m pretty warmed up now, and it’s leg day.”
“Every day is leg day,” Lily crooned, off key, and he chuckled again. “But sure. I didn’t really have anything planned for today, but that should be fine.”
She slowed down, then stopped her treadmill, getting off gingerly. She grabbed her towel, covering her face and wiping off the sweat.
When she took the towel away, there was a man’s face, just inches from hers. “BOO!” he shouted.
She yelped, then swung out on reflex, slapping him across the face with her sweaty towel.
A raucous burst of laughter emerged from a small crowd of guys who were now waiting around her treadmill. The guy she’d inadvertently slapped with her towel scowled.
“The fuck?” Mikki snarled, stepping in front of her and glaring. He might not be all that ripped, but he definitely had muscle definition, and his expression was one of pure anger. “What are you doing?”
“She’s the chick from the video, isn’t she?” the slapped guy protested.
“What? What video?” Lily asked, feeling confused. “What are you talking about?”
“GoofyBui,” one of the others offered, at least looking somewhat chastened. “The, um, jump-scare video?”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’ve seen that?”
“Hell, yeah. It was hilarious,” the slapped guy said, snickering. “You were all ‘eeeeek!’ and freaking out, and then all pissed off, chasing him around . . .”
“Son! Of! A! Bitch!” the other three guys chimed in, laughing some more.
Lily looked over to see Mikki staring at her, his eyebrows around his hairline.
“He shouldn’t have scared you, though,” the embarrassed dude bro said, by way of apology. “Sorry. He’s a dick.”
“You don’t have to apologize for Tobin,” she said before realizing he was talking about his friend, not the video. “Um . . . yeah. Okay.”
She got the feeling that she was going to get asked out, by one or all of these men, and she was really not feeling it. “C’mon, Mikki,” she said, heat flushing her face. They retreated to the weight machines.
“What the hell was that?” Mikki hissed.
“Tobin posted the video,” she said. “Obviously.”
“Was it that bad?”
She groaned, covering her face. “I don’t know. I was too nervous to watch, honestly.”
“You haven’t seen it?” Mikki grumbled, then fired up his phone.
“Oh, God, don’t . . .”
Mikki watched, fast-forwarding, until she heard her own voice. “What the absolute fuck?” Then the sound of shrieking, and yelling, and her . . . well, chasing and tackling Tobin.
She wanted to die. She wanted to just disappear from the earth.
She heard Mikki laugh. “Good for you—you should’ve kicked his ass,” he said. “But really, it’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad?” She wanted to tear her hair out. “Are you kidding me? I just got approached because I was acting like a total weenie, then a total psycho, and people are finding that hilarious! I am totally humiliated!”
“I thought it was funny too,” Mikki said. “Not in a mean way. You know I wouldn’t want anyone to embarrass you, and I’m not into cringey humor . . .”
“Dammit. I am going to kill him,” she promised. “I should have known better. I just wanted those damned numbers so badly . . . I am going to kill him.”
Mikki studied her for a long moment, tilting his head. “Lily,” he asked slowly, “is there a reason you wanted to go trawling for a man? Right this second, I mean? Because you’ve been going without for months, even years. What triggered you?”
She reared back. “What does that have to do with anything?” Couldn’t he see how upset she was?
“Because,” Mikki drawled, “this Goofy guy? I think . . . do you like him?”
She gaped at him. “I . . . of course . . . no!” she spluttered.
He grinned. “Suuuuure.”
“I am going to kill him,” she said. “And I am going to kill you, if you keep this up.”
“For someone who runs one of the most chill, positive beauty channels I’ve ever seen, you sure are murderous,” Mikki said with a smirk. She let out a low groan of frustration. “All I’m saying is, you two have chemistry.”
“We have history,” she corrected, then scrambled to explain herself. “Not that kind of history! We’ve known each other since we were kids, and I’ve actively hated him for a good portion of that time. It’s not like that.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Mikki said, dismissing the subject, and she felt so much frustration she thought it would crush her. “Anyway . . . what’re you going to do now?”
“Well, obviously I’m not going to continue doing a series with him!”
He blinked. “Are you kidding? Have you seen the numbers?”
She felt her stomach turn into a ball of ice. She grabbed his phone.
Nine hundred thousand views . . . and climbing.
“Oh, shit,” she said. She had to talk to Tobin. Now.