Chapter 27
JAMIE
Turns out, first time at the gym isn’t all that different to the first day of school. I know it’s dumb—it’s literally a place for people who don’t exercise to start, but I’m still nervous. Which, of course, doesn’t escape Tyler’s attention.
“Hey.” He touches my elbow when I hesitate exiting the car. “You’re okay. You’re here with me.”
Bless his naive heart. “That doesn’t help.”
“How come?”
“Being here with you means we’re gonna attract a lot of attention.”
Lips twitching, he rolls his eyes. “I have a secret to share, little bunny; most people aren’t as obsessed with me as you.”
“I’m not obsessed,” I lie, throwing the door open and stalking towards the gym before I can change my mind.
“You’re a total simp,” Tyler says when he catches up.
“Not true.”
“Hmm.” He plasters himself to my back while reaching around to swipe his access card. “It’s okay, I love it. Does wonders for my ego.”
“Right.” He’s barely touched me, but I already feel a little breathless. Fuck, I am a simp. “As if your ego needs stroking.”
He makes a thoughtful sound. “Maybe not my ego, but something could use a bit of stroking.”
I get a bit of a reprieve from his teasing when we go inside and stop by the main desk to claim my free session. While I’m writing down my info, someone collides into Tyler. Well, jumps on him.
He stumbles from the impact, letting out a pained grunt.
“Am I dreaming? Is this real?” the guy on his back asks, short of choking him.
Tyler winces, tapping the guy’s forearm. “That cracked rib definitely feels real, fuck.”
The guy jumps off and punches Tyler in the arm. Now that I can get a proper look at him, I recognize Blake.
“You jerk! You left me here all on my own, exposed to danger.”
“Are you talking about the big, scary dude, or exercise?”
“Fuck you!”
“You’re such a drama queen,” Tyler says, but I can see he’s hiding a smile. He pats Blake on the back. “Sorry for disappearing like that. Life got…hectic. I’m back now.”
Blake shoves a threatening finger in his face. “Don’t leave me ever again.”
“Promise.”
Just when I’m starting to feel like a third wheel, Tyler says, “I want to introduce you to someone.”
Blake’s eyes shift towards me. I don’t think he realized I was here.
His mouth stretches in a wide grin. “What are you talking about, we’ve met!” There’s a beat of hesitation. “Jake?”
I force an unbothered smile. “Close. Jamie.”
Of course he wouldn’t remember me. We’ve met once, and I doubt Tyler has talked about me since.
“Actually, you met my roommate,” Tyler says. “Now you’re meeting my boyfriend.”
Blake’s eyes snap to him, expression dumbstruck. I’m sure I look similar.
“Say again?”
“My. Boooyfriend,” Tyler exaggerates. “Partner. SO. Bae. Boo—”
“I get it, I get it, you can stop now! Jesus.” Blake blows out a big puff of air. “How did that happen?”
Tyler raises his brows at me, silently asking how much I’m comfortable sharing.
Honestly? Not much. Not when I barely know Blake.
“I seduced him with my cooking skills,” I tell him.
There’s a beat of silence, maybe two. Tyler covers his mouth trying not to laugh, while I’m anxiously waiting for Blake’s reaction. This is Tyler’s friend, a close one. What’s going to happen if he freaks out about us?
I’m not prepared when Blake throws his head back and lets out a thunderous laugh.
“Honestly, that tracks,” he says. “Ty can’t cook for shit. Did you know he tried to poison me once?”
“Hey, that wasn’t on purpose! How was I supposed to know you don’t leave cooked rice out overnight?”
“Common sense, perhaps?”
“Well, I ate it and I was fine. Not my fault you’re a weakling.”
Shaking his head, Blake grabs my shoulders.
“Whatever happens, don’t let him cook for you, okay?”
I summon a serious expression and nod. “Takeaway only.”
“Good!”
“Piss off,” Tyler grunts, batting Blake’s hands off me. “I promised Jamie I’d show him the ropes today. Will you be okay on your own for a bit? I’ll spot you later.”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I was in the middle of a legpress anyway.”
He strolls away, not at all bothered that his ‘straight’ friend just showed up with a guy and announced they’re boyfriends.
Are all Tyler’s friends like that? And his family? God, I really hope so.
Wait, why am I thinking of meeting his fam? We just started dating. I really need to stop getting ahead of myself.
Oblivious to my turmoil, Tyler steers me in the opposite direction from Blake.
“Come on, let’s get our blood pumping.”
I follow him to the cardio section in silence, but my expression must speak volumes.
“What?” he asks, amused.
“Nothing.” Everything. “I just… You weren’t kidding. About not hiding.”
“Did you think it was just lip service?”
Is it my imagination, or does he sound kind of hurt?
“No. I didn’t think you were lying.”
“But?”
“But it feels kinda…surreal, y’know?”
“What does?”
I duck my head, lowering my voice. “Being called someone’s boyfriend.”
Tyler relaxes and pushes into my space with a mysterious smile.
“Well, you better get used to it.” He leans in to whisper in my ear. “Because I’m gonna be saying it often.” Then suddenly, he steps back, patting the handle of one of the torture machines. “Here you go, boyfriend. Hop on.”
I scowl, hiding the fact that my heart is doing a little shimmy dance. “Don’t overdo it, it’s weird.”
“Then hop on, little bunny.”
Oh God. What have I got myself into?
Trying to maintain the scowl, I make my awkward way onto the torture machine—the elliptical, as Tyler so kindly informs me. Once in position, I helplessly analyze the console. That’s way too many buttons for something you move with your legs.
Chuckling, Tyler takes over. “Let’s start you on Level 3 for at least ten minutes.”
“What about you?” I took the last available elliptical. I really hope he’s not gonna leave me here like this.
He points a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll get on the treadmill for a bit. I know you don’t like running, so this is a good alternative. Less impact too.”
“If you say so...”
He snickers. “Need me to demonstrate first?”
“I’ll be fine. I can see what the others are doing.”
Really, how hard can it be?
I hate the elliptical, I decide, five minutes into whatever the fuck I’m supposed to do.
It looks simple—just move your legs, maybe pretend you’re the kind of person who enjoys cardio.
Yeah, no. My feet are doing one thing, my arms another, and somehow the machine expects them to cooperate.
I feel like a malfunctioning wind-up toy. And there are witnesses!
“Keep it smooth,” Tyler called earlier, sounding way too amused for someone who’s supposed to be a supportive boyfriend.
I’m clunking along like I’ve never met my own limbs before, and then I make the mistake of glancing over at Tyler. I mean to send him a distress signal, but end up staring instead.
Because damn, what a sight. Why did it take me so long to join him at the gym?
His pace is set way higher than anything I would voluntarily attempt. He’s clearly in the zone, focused and steady. His arms flex with each stride, controlled and powerful. He makes it look so easy and, God forbid, enjoyable even.
Sweat darkens his white shirt, making it cling to his chest, accentuating everything. Some of it slides down the line of his neck. I would love to lick it up for him.
I swallow, grip tightening on the handles as my rhythm immediately falls apart again. My foot presses down at the wrong time, and the machine jerks.
I yelp as I lurch forward, arms flailing, very nearly eating the console before I manage to grab on and steady myself. The elliptical keeps moving like it’s personally offended by my incompetence (can’t blame it, really).
My heart is still racing from the adrenaline spike when two strong hands grab me and plant me onto solid ground.
“You okay?!” Tyler asks, breathing heavily while his wide eyes scan me like I might’ve broken something. But it’s just my dignity. Not that there was much to begin with.
“I’m fine,” I say quickly as heat rushes to my face, for two very different reasons.
He doesn’t look convinced. “You sure?” He glances at the elliptical, scrunching his nose. “I should’ve shown you how it works.”
“It’s not that hard.” It’s not. I’m just a klutz. “I was, um, distracted.”
“By what?”
I hesitate for half a second, then glance pointedly at him—at the sweat, the flushed skin, the chiseled jaw. The sheer audacity to be born perfect like this.
He catches on quickly, chest puffing out like a gorilla who won a fight over the last banana.
“Not obsessed, my ass.”
“Shut up,” I grumble, acting like I don’t want to bury my face between his pecs and inhale a lungful.
After teasing me some more (and making sure I really didn’t break anything), we move to the free-weights section.
“Okay, let’s start with the basics,” he says, positioning me in front of a wall-wide mirror.
“At this rate, you’re never gonna get to work out.”
“Don’t worry. Once I’m sure you can do these safely, I’ll go find Blake. Before he can throw a tantrum,” he adds with an eyeroll.
“He’s different than I imagined. From what you’ve told me.” The few minutes I met him for the first time didn’t really help me form an opinion of him.
“As in?”
“Really nice. And goofy. Though you did tell me about the latter.”
“He’s a bit of a weirdo,” Tyler agrees, voice laced with affection, “but a really good guy underneath.” His gaze sharpens, meeting mine in the mirror. “Don’t you go flirting with him just because he’s nice.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was planning to do.” It’s my turn to roll my eyes.
“Just making sure.” He pats my hip. “Okay, let’s do it—a squat. Don’t panic, we’ll start with just the bodyweight.”
He gives me a slow-mo demo. I fear I pay more attention to the way his shorts stretch tight over his ass and thighs than I do to the correct form.
“Your turn.”
Oh dear. “Okay, so…”
Clunkily, I resume my position and instantly cringe at my reflection. God, I’m like a geriatric.
To Tyler’s credit, he doesn’t laugh. Instead, he jumps behind me and pulls on my hips.
“Hinge. Hinge. Hinge more.”
“What’s hinge?”
He pauses, lips twitching.