Her Secret Santa - Miley Maine Page 0,1

it as much as she implies it. And I get it. She wants me to be more daring. She wants me to be more like you.”

I looked at him. I wasn’t sure why he was saying this, but I could see what he meant. I’ve always been the type of guy who is bored shitless sitting around. I want to do something or make something or at least make something happen. We are all going to be in one place far too long one day. I want to move as much as possible while I still can. And I love adrenaline rushes. I’ve always lived for them. I never really thought I’d live to see thirty and I didn’t care. Hell, I was thirty-five now. I was supposed to be responsible and mature, but if anything, I was even more reckless than I was at twenty-five. I loved every second of it.

“You don’t have to be more like me,” I said. “You just need to be less like yourself.”

I laughed at my joke and he punched me playfully on the arm. “I know. I just don’t have that level of energy. After the hellish hours I put in each week how can I expect to have the energy to go skydiving?”

“Skydiving requires no energy,” I said. “Almost ninety percent of it is falling. That’s it. You aren’t doing anything.”

“But doesn’t it really take it out of you just falling, the rush, the sky around you, and just knowing that if something goes wrong, you are going to die?”

“No. That gives you the energy. That’s where that adrenaline rush comes from.”

“Well, maybe I can start out with something less extreme. What else could I do that might be fun?”

I thought for a moment. He needed something more beginner level where he felt that he might have some control. And then Sophie would give him the ride of his life after. That was what he was after. I knew my friend. Sophie and Quinton had been going out for almost a year, and he had told me recently that their relationship was fizzling on the sexual side a bit. Were they getting sick of each other already? That sounded like a problem, but he might have been on to something as a way to put some more spice back up in there.

“Ah,” I said. “I have it. How about white-water rafting?”

He grimaced, but then thought more about it. I saw him coming around a bit. “Really? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Yeah, but not as dangerous. I mean, you know how to swim? You will have a life jacket on. The rest is all just riding the waves and getting tossed around. And you should take up surfing, speaking of waves.”

“We live in Los Angeles,” he said. “You’re right. I should know how to fucking surf. It’s ridiculous that I don’t. And yes, I know how to swim. I’m not great at it, and I’m not sure I can learn to surf since I have no balance whatsoever. But I’m down with this white-water rafting thing. Let’s set that up sometime soon.”

“Sure thing,” I said. “You want to finish this game?”

“No. My ankle is killing me,” he said. “Also, I need to get to work and get started on some stuff anyway.”

“Ok,” I said. “I need to get going, too.” I had plenty of time, but I wasn’t going to play anymore racquetball. Maybe I would take a few minutes to get a quick round on the heavy bag to practice my Muay Thai. That might be great for a pump. I loved a damn pump first thing in the morning. People wondered why they spent half the morning trying to wake up. It was because they barely moved all day. So, the body still felt asleep. Get up and get a sweat going and that will awaken thyself.

I left the racquetball court after saying goodbye to Quinton and then I made my way down the hall to where the dojo was set up. The entire first floor of the building was setup for various forms of exercises. Mostly it was employees and their families who would drop by to use any of them first thing in the morning before they got anything else done for the day. I was happy to see that so many of them had adopted my philosophy.

I wished that my father had. He died at the age of fifty of a massive heart attack. He worked a hundred and twenty