Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
PERCY
I tiptoe through the quiet apartment, holding my breath so I won’t wake Juno.
Not that it’s a big secret that I’m going to the gym—they were standing right there when I confirmed it with Butch in the wee hours of the morning after eating way too much pizza and having a surprisingly pleasant time with a bunch of gymbos.
But I got my fill of Juno’s knowing looks and teasing smirks during the short bus ride home, and all day the next day.
I managed to find a normal length T-shirt that definitely belongs to Juno in the clean laundry basket, but sadly the only shorts I could find are still obscenely short.
I give them a little tug to make sure my ass cheeks are covered and then bend down to grab the sneakers Juno let me borrow yesterday.
If I’m actually going to stick with this, I should probably go buy some of my own gym clothes.
“Headed to the gym?”
I squawk with surprise and fling the shoe in my hand over my shoulder. I hear a thud and a laugh, and I spin around to see my roomie rubbing their forehead.
“Dude, watch it with the shoes,” they complain.
“You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing awake before ten a.m.?” I pick up the shoe and slip it on.
“I had to pee,” they answer with a yawn. “The bigger question is why are you skulking around here in the dark like a cat burglar? It’s almost like you didn’t want me to wake up and catch you leaving for the gym.”
I roll my eyes and straighten up, tugging on my shorts again. “Gee, I wonder why.”
“I really don’t know, bestie,” Juno says sweetly. “I assume it’s because you’re embarrassed about your gym crush. But I don’t see how anyone could be embarrassed about wanting to climb a dude who looks like that. It looks like he has a big dick too. Did you see that bulge?”
“There’s more to life than big dicks,” I grumble.
“Duh.” They scoff in agreement. “It’s rarely a bad thing though.”
Well, I can’t exactly argue with that. I sniff indignantly anyway.
“I didn’t notice because he’s my trainer and he doesn’t need me ogling him. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have fitness to attend to,” I say primly.
“Love you, Perce,” they call after me.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter. “I love you too.”
It’s entirely too cold to be wearing booty shorts this morning.
I shiver and wrap my arms around myself as I haul ass to the bus, promising myself that I will get some proper gym clothes this week.
I bounce my legs to keep the blood flow going during the short ride, and then I power walk from the bus stop to Sweat.
Butch is waiting near the desk, just like the last two times I came in.
I’m sure he greets all of his personal training clients the same way.
Instead of push-ups, he’s doing jumping jacks this morning, and it’s entirely Juno’s fault that the first thing I notice is the bounce of his very noticeable bulge with every jump.
“Hey, Butch,” I say in a high, cheerful tone, fixing my eyes on his face and refusing to let them wander.
“Rocky.” That big smile of his stretches across his face, and his eyes light up like he’s genuinely excited to see me.
My heart rate kicks up immediately, and I fight the urge to giggle like an idiot.
He must have guys tripping over themselves left and right for him.
How can anyone resist his seemingly natural talent for making a guy just feel…
special? Stupid, stupid, stupid, I chastise myself.
I’m not special, he’s just a ridiculously friendly guy.
“Hey,” I mutter again, swallowing hard and suddenly forgetting the normal thing to do with my hands. I put them on my hips, but that feels weird, so I let them drop by my sides, except they just kind of hang there like limp noodles. Finally I cross my arms and awkwardly shuffle my feet.
Butch rakes his gaze over me for a second, and I try not to squirm.
“No crop top today?” There’s just a hint of teasing in his voice that makes my stomach flip and flutter.
“I’ll wear a crop top again once I have a six-pack,” I say with a laugh.
He doesn’t seem to pick up on the joke I’m making though—clearly, that it’s laughable to think I’ll ever have a six-pack—and instead of laughing along with me, he nods solemnly.
“Sounds like a good goal for us to put on your list.”
“No, I—” I chuckle and uncross my arms, rubbing the back of my neck with one hand. “Okay, yeah, sure. Why not?”
“Kick-ass.” He pats me roughly on the shoulder, and even though I’m ready for it, I still stumble a little from the force. “Come on, let’s get started on your warm-up, and while we do that, we can talk about the rest of your goals.”
BUTCH
Percy is walking a little stiffly, but he doesn’t hesitate quite as long before hopping on the treadmill this morning, so I’ll count that as a win. He sets the machine to a brisk walk and I get on the one next to him at a light jog.
“Alright, goals,” I say once we’re moving.
“I don’t know.” He lets out a little huff of a laugh, reaching back to tug on his shorts as they start to ride up between his cheeks. “Are these meant to be short term? Long term? Realistic? Aspirational? How do people usually approach their goal setting for fitness? Do you use the SMART model?”
“Uh…” I scratch my head. “It’s like, you know, a way to keep your eye on the prize, something to aim for and work towards.”
“I know what goals are,” he says with another laugh, and I shrink a little.
Of course he knows what a goal is. That was dumb. I don’t know what some of that stuff he said was though, which isn’t that surprising since he’s a genius and I’m the same dumb jock I was back when I was barely passing high school. Never even bothered with college.
I turn up my speed and run a little bit faster.
“Right,” I say cheerfully, hoping he doesn’t think I’m a fucking moron now, “why don’t you tell me a couple of things that sound really achievable to you and at least one thing that you would like to achieve but maybe sounds scary or out of reach.”
“Okay.” He’s breathing a little harder, but so far, he seems to be setting a good pace for his warm-up compared to yesterday.
“Well, achievable I guess would be jogging a mile without feeling like I’m going to die and, um, I guess the six-pack thing we talked about.
” He mumbles that last part like he doesn’t really believe it’s doable, but I grin at him because as long as he commits, both of those goals are cake.
“And a goal you think sounds out of reach?”
He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and stays quiet for a minute.
I focus on my jogging and give him time to organize his thoughts or work up the courage to say whatever it is out loud.
I’m already making a mental plan for his workouts to gradually get him to those first two easy goals without burning him out too fast.
“It’s really dumb, but I saw a sign-up for a half-marathon in the spring,” he says. “I’m sure that’s way too soon, but maybe the year after if I can stick with a fitness plan and a meteor doesn’t hit the earth or anything…”
“Yeah, I’ve been seeing the ads. It’s, like, seven more months away; that’s plenty of time for you to train.”
His eyebrows fly up and he makes a wheezing, choking sound. “There’s no way I can go from this—” He flaps his hands wildly in a vague gesture at himself. “—to running a half fucking marathon in seven months.”
“I’m not saying you’ll take first place, but I can definitely get you in shape enough to finish it. Tell you what, I’ll sign up for it too.”
Percy snorts. “Wow, there’s a motivator. I’ll get to embarrass myself in front of a million people watching the race and meet you at the finish line where you’ll barely be winded after finishing a full five hours before me.”
“Dude, I do not have a runner’s body. Have you seen the people who run marathons? It’s a pain in the ass to haul this amount of bulk around.”
“It’s true,” AJ chimes in from the leg press, where he’s coaching his own client this morning. “Big muscles don’t give you any kind of advantage in a half-marathon. If you train right, you might even be able to finish before him.”
Percy slows his treadmill from a slow jog to a walk to catch his breath and eyes me skeptically.
“Fine.” He bites after a minute or two. “Worst-case scenario, I’ll drop out beforehand and just lose the fifty-dollar sign-up fee.”
“That’s the spirit,” Fender cheers.
Percy’s face turns red, and he groans. “Great, and now everyone knows, so if I do drop out, I’ll still be embarrassed.”
“It’s motivating.” I slow my pace too so we can wrap up our warm-up and move on. “Come on, let’s stretch to help get rid of some of that lactic acid buildup in your muscles.”
I lead him over to the mats near the free weight area and start to show him some stretches.
His shorts ride up again, showing off the lower curve of his ass cheeks when he bends forward.
His peachy skin with the lightest dusting of soft blond hair that thickens and darkens as it goes down his legs is impossible to look away from.
I checked the employee handbook this morning and there was nothing in there about dating clients, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m probably not his type.
He’s probably seeing a professor. A professor who’s annoyingly arrogant and not good enough for him.
I hate that stupid, imaginary professor.
“Do you like camping?” I blurt.
Percy straightens up and gives me a curious look, cocking his head and pulling his eyebrows together.
“Sure. I mean, I’m not Bear Grylls or anything, but a couple of nights in a tent when the weather is nice can be fun. Why? Do you want recommendations for good camping spots? Or do you need to borrow a tent or something?”
“No, uh… the guys and I were talking about going one more time before it’s too cold.
Probably in the next week or two, depending on the weather.
” For a second I start to doubt myself. Is it weird for me to invite him?
We barely know each other, and it’s definitely not under the umbrella of personal training.
But as I talk, it sounds less and less stupid to me.
With more confidence, I keep going. “I know you aren’t sold on all this weightlifting stuff, but there’s more to fitness than the gym.
We could do some really light rock climbing, jog on an easy trail or two.
Let me convince you that this is a lifestyle, not a chore. ”
“Oh.” He shuffles his feet and looks around, avoiding my gaze. “Maybe. Let me think about it? It depends when it is and what my workload looks like. I’m supposed to be working on my thesis, and I TA a couple of classes, so some weekends I’m totally swamped with grading papers and stuff.”
“Sure.” I smile a little wider. A maybe isn’t a no, at least.
I glance over to see Fender with a shit-eating grin on his face.
I shake my head and give him a stern look in return.
I’m not trying to perv on Percy. He’ll have his own tent and everything.
I’m his personal trainer—it’s my job to not only train him but help him develop a love of fitness, and that’s all I’m doing.
And if, along the way, he decides he wants to slum it with a muscled-up dumbass in between dating doctors and lawyers or whatever… well, I’d be down with that.