CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 52
KIAN
The sweat drips down my body, making my shirt clingto my back. The material feels disgusting against my skin, but I’m sure if I took my shirt off, the gym employee would have a conniption. Back in Arizona, it wouldn’t have been a problem, because the worker used to ogle me. He also subscribes to my OnlyFans, so I know he was enjoying the free content.
Especially when I would pull the front down on my drawstring shorts, not enough to be indecent, but enough to reveal the patch of trimmed hair covering my groin.
Whatever, I know I’m attractive. Ever since that day I left Texas, I’ve been working on bettering myself in every way. And that started with me going to the gym, and making it my life’s mission to have a six-pack. Now, I have abs, a V-Line, and I think I’m pretty dang hot, if I do say so myself.
The only problem is that if I go for too long without the gym, the muscles slowly go away, and I’m back to that skinny kid who ran away two years ago. I refuse to go back to him.
So, every day, I get my ass up and get to the gym. Running, lifting weights, and taking pictures of me flexing so I can keep myself in line.
Today is not like every other day, though, and that’s my problem. No amount of running, no amount of heavy weights, and no amount of pictures can fix what I’m feeling right now.
Stupid Trent. Stupid, stupid Trent. I hate him. I hate him.
T hat’s a lie, I don’t hate him. I could never hate him. And that's the problem I’m trying to run away from.
My feet hit the belt on the treadmill, pounding in time to the new K-Pop album I queued up. Blocking out the thoughts that are trying to break through, because I can’t let them. If I let one thought in, the rest will overflow and drown me.
I lift my head up, taking my focus off the screen in front of me, and check my surroundings. It’s not like I’m going to get mugged in here, but I feel someone staring at me. That’s one of my biggest pet peeves, like take a freaking picture, dude, it would last so much longer.
My eyes catch on dark ones standing beside the leg press machine. My eyes slightly widen, because oh my god. The definition of tall, dark, and handsome is staring back at me. And he’s shirtless. Thank you, sweet eight pound baby Jesus, for blessing me with this fine specimen of a man during my internal emotional breakdown. I might not be in the right headspace for another relationship, but he’s hot. I can appreciate male beauty when it’s right in front of me.
The Greek god catches me staring and promptly sneers at me, then turns back to his machine. Another thing that would never happen to me in Arizona. Of course, homophobia is running wild and rampant in the good old state of Texas. Give me a freaking break. I roll my eyes and turn the volume up on my headphones, until there’s nothing in my mind except the upbeat tempo and Korean words flowing through my system.
My earbud is snatched out of my ear, and I stumble on the treadmill. I grab onto the railing, breathing deeply to ward off the panic taking hold of me. What the hell?
I level my glare on the man standing on the treadmill beside me, the same not-as-hot-now man who glared at me like I personally killed his dog or something. Which is insane, I love dogs.
“Can I help you?” I snap at the man.
“No, but I can help you. Leave Trent alone. Whatever fucking game you’re playing with him, stop it. He’s not a toy that you can use and throw away when it doesn’t make you happy anymore.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you have the wrong guy.” I extend my hand out, hoping he’ll drop the earbud in it, but he doesn’t.
“You don’t think I know who you are, Kian?” The way he spits out my name makes me flinch. He says it like a curse.
I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. I stare at him, dumbfounded.
“Trent is my best friend, and I hate seeing him hurt. Guess what? He’s fucking hurt right now. And I know it’s because of you. So cut it out. Go back to Arizona, and leave Trent here to be happy.”
“And who the hell are you?” The thought of hurting Trent sends a sharp pain into my chest. I hate hurting him.
“Adam.”
I’ve never seen him on Trent’s page, and I would know, because this isn’t a man easily forgotten. I’ll just ignore the fact that I can also describe each picture on Trent’s profile from my memory. That’s not the point.
“Who are you to Trent? You obviously can’t be that important if I’ve never heard of you,” I snark, because honestly. I don’t have the time or energy. It’s probably petty drama and someone who thinks they know what’s going on between the two of us when they obviously don’t.
Wait a minute. Now that he’s closer, he kind of…
“Defending your brother’s ex-boyfriend? Really? Isn’t there some kind of bro code? Maybe you should be consoling your brother after his break up instead of confronting his ex’s ex.”
“What?” He looks befuddled, the wrinkle in between his brows more prominent when he scrunches it like that. Maybe I should suggest botox.
No, I’m not feeling that snarky today, no matter how tempting the thought. And he definitely looks like he could whoop me in a fight, which I do not have time for. I have a modeling shoot next week in California, and I cannot afford to have bruises anywhere on me. Or heaven forbid a busted lip.
Realization dawns on his face, and he bites out, “I’m not Hunter’s brother.”
“Maybe a cousin then? The dark hair, dark eyes. You even have a similar nose.”
He exhales deeply through his nose. If he was a dragon he would be spewing smoke. “I am not kin to Hunter. In any way, shape, or form. Trent is my friend and business partner.”
Business partner? So Trent has really made a name for himself since I left. Good for him, really. Even if his business partner seems like a jackass. Who am I to judge?
“Ohhh. Okay.” I bob my head, acknowledging his words. “Cool, can I go back to my run now? I have stuff I need to do, and you’re preventing me from doing it.”
“Leave Trent alone, and I will.”
Yeah, not going to happen. The urge to see Trent is even stronger now, no matter how I left things the other night. He’s hurt me plenty of times. I think I’m allowed to wallow in my pain and make him feel guilty for it.
“Bye.” I wiggle my fingers and start the treadmill back up again, hoping he’ll drop the ear bud in the water bottle holder. I refuse to give him another moment of my time.
He huffs and leaves it in the cup holder, striding away back to whatever hole he crawled out of. That’s fine by me.
I’m a grown man, and if I want to see Trent, I will. No matter how much it hurts both of us. Because what Adam doesn’t understand is that Trent is mine. I don’t care. And when I decide to forgive Trent for the way he hurt me, I’ll make sure to send Adam an invite for our housewarming party.