At four twenty Jason strolled back into the reception. His skin was a little ruddy; he must have worked in the sun all day, and heat seemed to radiate in waves off his body. He saw me sitting in an armchair, gym bag at my feet and an apple-core perched between my thumb and forefinger. I tossed it into a bin and stood.

‘Ready?’ he called.

I nodded, not quite finding my voice. He was just being nice, I reminded myself. But as we approached the parking lot, I found myself wondering what I was doing, old warning bells chiming at the back of my head.

Jason manoeuvred his tall and lean body into the car, while I stood awkwardly by the passenger door, grappling with myself. Should I get in? Was it wise? Okay, I knew him fairly well, but did I know him well enough to trust that he wouldn’t kidnap me or murder me or something?

Jason leaned over and opened the passenger door. ‘Get in,’ he ordered. ‘I promise that I won’t kidnap you or murder you or something.’

I was shocked and more than a little spooked by the way his words echoed my thoughts. I hesitated once more before thinking, what the hell, he’d taught me enough self-defence moves that I could probably protect myself if things went wrong.

I clambered into the car. It was surprisingly tidy; no beer cans littering the car floor, no wet towels dampening the seats, no clothes stuffed in a bundle anywhere.

‘Seatbelt,’ Jason ordered while he strapped himself in.

I did as told, thinking that I wanted to dump my phone into the glove box during the ride. I opened it and gasped in surprise.

I was staring at a massive load of small, square-shaped packets in different colours, so many that some spilled over the edge and fell onto the floor by my feet.

‘Why is there like twenty condoms in here?’ I found myself asking.

Jason looked at me quickly, then snapped the lid closed. Unbothered by his discomfort, I bent down to pick up one of the condoms.

‘Large, slippery, vanilla flavoured,’ I read, forehead creasing. ‘These things have flavours?’ I glanced at Jason, one eyebrow raised.

‘Um, well, you just found my collection of condoms,’ he said lamely, grimacing a little.

I was a bit amused over his reaction; I’d never seen him uncomfortable before.

‘Collection? You collect condoms?’ I rolled my eyes at him. ‘Sounds like bullshit.’ Then I realised that wasn’t what he had meant. I felt stupid, but refused to blush.

‘Right, let me explain,’ he said, hands raised in surrender. ‘So I have sex from time to time.’ He paused while I thought, that’s no surprise at all. ‘And I hate it when I’m about to and there’s no condom around, because I refuse to have unprotected sex. So whenever I buy condoms, I buy a lot so that I don’t have to interrupt sex due to none being around.’ He peered at me a little worriedly, eyes wide and searching.

I sat there silent for a while, unable to make sense of his expression. Was he…embarrassed? Ashamed? I didn’t think so. Besides, there was no reason for him to feel that way. I cleared my throat, saying the only thing that was appropriate for me to say. ‘That’s very responsible of you.’

Jason was stunned and puzzled by my response. I mentally groaned. Why couldn’t I just be normal around him? ‘It’s responsible to have a lot of sex?’

‘If you have sex responsibly, I don’t see why you shouldn’t. It’s not like it’s taboo anymore. I see no reason why religion should taint a practice that is natural and common for most mammals. What I meant is that it’s responsible that you always do it with a condom, because god forbid you get a disease, or leave a bunch of fertilised women in your wake. God knows there are enough parentless children in the world.’ I sobered up when I thought of those children, and decided that I wouldn’t have one of my own when there were plenty who needed adoption.

I turned my gaze to Jason, only to see that he was now exasperated.

‘What?’

‘Religion? Mammals? Fertilised women? Do you always talk like that?’

Confused, I said, ‘Talk like what?’

‘Talk smart.’

‘I don’t talk smart,’ I snapped, embarrassed that he thought I was trying to impress him rather than just express myself.

He smiled at me, amused. ‘I don’t mean it like that. I mean that you express yourself so eloquently. It’s a nice contrast to the normal babble I have to put up with.’

‘You don’t have to put up with it. You choose to put up with it when you decide to sleep with whatever pretty girl you find on the street.’ The words had slipped out before I could even begin to understand what I was saying.

I had meant to insult him, I realised, but all he did was grin at me sheepishly. ‘I like sex—sue me.’

‘You’re such a gigolo,’ I said, meaning to tease him again, though there was nothing playful in my face. A player, go figure. Or was it man-whore? ‘It would be slut or whore if you were a girl.’ I stared bitterly out of the window, reminded once more why feminism was still a necessary force against inequality. Nobody’s body or choice should be policed by anyone. Jason’s certainly wasn’t. But I knew a lot of women were.

‘You can call me whatever you like,’ he said calmly.

I refused to look at him, suddenly wanting to get out. I didn’t want to talk to this arrogant man who had so much sex. It made me feel strange, knowing about it. I could imagine all those hands on him, imagine the imprints they’d left behind. But I stopped myself just in time. Leaving the car would only prove to him that I was bothered by his sexual practices, or maybe even jealous. I couldn’t let him think that.

I sat back resolutely, staring out of the window while Jason started the car and backed out of the parking lot.

‘Off we are to the gym then,’ he declared as we reached the main road.

For a while he drove in silence, sometimes lifting his hand to stroke his stubble, sometimes bringing his hand back to massage his neck muscles, sometimes scratching himself. There was a lot of traffic at this hour, and we ended up in a long queue, moving slowly. Suddenly the quiet pressed down harder, the air between us more charged. Or maybe I was just imagining it.

I had been observing him so indiscreetly that after a while Jason’s gaze flitted toward me. Unfazed, I stared right back into his blue-green eyes, as bright as the vast Mediterranean Sea.

If he had been anyone else, he would have maybe been offended, or told me to stop staring, or given me a what-the-fuck look, or looked at me like I was crazy. Not Jason. He was too easy-going to be bothered by anything. His eyes gleamed briefly as they met mine, and then he was back to looking ahead of him on the road.

‘Why’s Blake not with us today?’ he asked, as if just now realising someone was missing.

‘He’s sick, I think. Or at least that’s what he texted me. It’s entirely possible that he got his ass kicked yesterday and couldn’t get up this morning.’ I shrugged, not really bothered.

‘You and Blake have quite a strange friendship.’

I frowned. ‘I wouldn’t call it friendship; I’d say we’re allies. Allies in a similar cause. Without the cause we’d have no reason to stand the other’s presence.’

‘You two are always bickering,’ Jason commented, amused. ‘Kind of like a married couple.’

I blanched. Had he just said that? Maybe he thought Blake and I had a thing. It occurred to me that I really didn’t want Jason to think I had a thing with anyone, least of all Blake.

‘A married couple? What a gross simile. I’d rather retire with fifty cats than be married to Blake.’ I practically spit his name.

Jason chuckled good-naturedly. ‘What’s the cause you have in common?’

I was on my guard. If I said it was none of his business, he’d get curious and try to find out for himself. If I said the truth he’d run away screaming. Maybe I could offer him a partial truth.

‘We both wanted to get fit and learn how to protect ourselves and others.’

Jason nodded gravelly. ‘I must say though,’ he began, ‘it’s going to be easier for you than for Blake. Yes, you have excess weight, but that is easily lost or easily converted to muscle. Blake? He has zero body fat, and it’s hard to get him to eat when he doesn’t seem to crave sustenance. If he doesn’t gain any body fat, there’s nothing to build muscle with.’ Jason frowned as he contemplated his words. ‘What does Blake normally eat?’

I thought about it. ‘Outside of the buffets he’s usually snacking on chips or chocolate bars or other trashy food like that. And no, he doesn’t eat a lot at all, actually.’

‘Hmm. I’ll have to put him on a diet. And as his ally, I hope you’re willing to help him on his journey towards your cause.’ He smiled crookedly at me.

I shrugged. ‘Sure, I’ll help him, by shovelling all the food I eat onto his plate. Maybe there’s a secret way to transfer all my fat into his body.’

Jason laughed at that, looking at me like he couldn’t quite figure me out. ‘You’re aware of your eating habits and you want to change, so how come you haven’t before?’

I glanced away, feeling a little ashamed over my lack of discipline and control over my lifestyle. ‘I like food and I don’t exercise enough to compensate,’ I finally said, looking down at my hands, which were clasped in my lap.

‘That can easily be turned around.’

‘I know. And I’ve tried before. It’s just that it doesn’t last.’

‘There are ways to make it last—trust me.’ As the queue stopped again, he briefly glanced down at himself. ‘I didn’t always look like this,’ he admitted earnestly.

I pondered at that. Could there really have been a time when Jason had been less than extraordinarily perfect? It seemed surreal, but it wasn’t entirely implausible. Perhaps he had bloomed at a later stage in life.

‘I was a scrawny kid,’ he said, smiling mischievously. ‘The shortest, and very much on the thin side. I hit puberty kind of late, around seventeen. From there on…’ He didn’t need to finish. From there on he had turned from scrawny kid to god on earth.

‘So you shot up in height, filled out, gained muscle, and voila! You were suddenly the hottest guy in school and every girl fanned themselves around you.’ I finished dramatically, pretending to swoon while I batted my eyelashes at him.

His smile turned feral. ‘Something like that.’

‘Well, I can’t say puberty did much for me except give me wider hips. My breasts are still on the smaller side of average and my cheeks are still round and I still look like a fifteen-year-old, so what the hell.’

Jason regarded me silently, his eyes filling with an unidentifiable emotion. Not knowing what to feel, I opted for looking away.

I was glad—glad that he didn’t bother with babbling nonsense and denying the truth of my appearance like Blake and Jasmine had done.

‘Why are you smiling?’ he asked, eyeing me curiously.

I just shook my head, smile still tugging at my lips. ‘No reason.’