“Dude, sit down, you’re going to drive me nuts.”
Trevor glanced over his shoulder at Jorge, who was sprawled across his bed, holding his tablet over his face. He called it his workout. “I’m not allowed to exercise in the room?”
Without glancing from the screen, Jorge said, “Since when is pacing exercise?”
“It’s aerobic.”
Jorge snorted. “Is this some new fad you picked up in the last six hours?”
Admitting defeat—the pacing wasn’t helping anyway—he slumped into his desk chair. “Sorry.”
“Thanks.” Pause as Jorge swiped something on the screen. “So what’s got you all…fitness-conscious today?”
For a fraction of a second, Trevor considered telling Jorge the truth: he was waiting to hear from Chase. Then he thought it might sound a little obsessed. Especially since they’d spent most of the
