12. Warren #2
“Are you trying to get under my skin with that, Burke?” Dane curses under his breath and, with a swallow, I continue to change into my workout shorts.
“With what, exactly, Walker? You’ve never seen a guy in a jockstrap before? Do you always check out people changing so closely?”
He drags his teeth over his bottom lip and steps close enough for our chests to touch. “Only the ones who bend over right in front of me to show off the goods. Don’t tell me you had no other goal but to get my attention.”
“My goal was to stop looking at you and get changed. I’m here to work out. If you want to join me, I’ll be in the weight room.”
Gently, I push on him until he steps back, and I can close my locker. My heart might rip through my chest if I don’t get away from Dane. His gaze on me might as well be like his hand on my dick, and that won’t help if I’m trying to bench press.
When I finally reach the weight room, my heart rate has dropped, and after a light warm-up, I start with the leg press.
I’m on my second set at the lower weight when Dane strolls in.
He begins with an arm workout, and I swallow my tongue at every curl he makes with a damn dumbbell.
Every bulge and lift I watch sends me farther into dangerous territory.
This is not good.
I increase the weight on my machine and try to struggle through it as a distraction. It’s far more than what I’m comfortable with, but I figure it will give me something else to concentrate on instead of a sexy, flexing Dane.
It works. Maybe too well, because I’m so focused on pushing the weight, I don’t hear him sneak up next to me.
“If you keep doing that, you’ll hurt yourself. Stop. I need my partner walking, not in a cast with a ruptured ankle because he was trying to show off.”
“Not showing off,” I grit.
“Really? Why do you have so much weight?”
“To distract me.”
“From?”
With a huff, I turn my head to meet his gaze. “You, okay? Happy now?”
“Not really,” he says softly, and I pause in my outrage. “I’d never want to see you hurt because of me.”
Dane’s hand subtly brushes down my arm before he adjusts the weight on my machine. It’s not like him to show this kind of softness to me in public. Our gazes meet briefly as he steps aside and motions for me to continue.
“We, ah, need to discuss the rest of the rodeos you want to team up at this season. Make sure our schedules line up. I already registered for mine before we…were paired.”
Yes, we need to do it. Yes, it gets me spending time with him. No, I’m not admitting what this means.
“We should probably do that, yes. How about when we’re done here?”
Nodding, I clear my throat. “Yeah, uh…there’s a coffee shop place downtown. The Thirsty Cow. We could meet there?”
“Sure. Lunch?”
Dane raises an eyebrow while he waits for my answer, and it seems that if I keep looking at him like this, with shorts and a tank top showing all the muscles and skin, I can’t form words. Closing my eyes to block him out, I swallow.
“Yes. Say 12:30?”
There’s a smile in Dane’s voice when he replies. “See you then, Burke. Don’t hurt yourself in the meantime.”
I don’t open my eyes until I’m sure he’s moved away.
Dane didn’t even stay in the weight room, and I’m immensely relieved about that.
But now it’s hard to concentrate, and instead of lifting anything, I head to the meditation room.
It’s a smaller room at the back of the gym with low lighting, soothing music, and yoga mats.
While you can practice yoga here if you wish, most people use it to come down from an intense workout.
A single buff dude lies splayed on his back, softly snoring. Careful to remain quiet, I remove a mat from the slot near the door and find a space near the back of the room. After sitting for a moment with my legs straight in front of me, I cross them and close my eyes.
Inhaling deeply, I slowly puff out the breath and try to expel the thoughts of Dane with it.
I don’t like feeling confused like this.
Dane has me so twisted up, it’s hard to think.
Another deep breath and exhale. The man snoring coughs and snorts.
A light rustling blends over the music as he moves, followed by the spray of the bottle as he wipes down the mat.
The door opens and closes will a light thump.
Completely alone now, my mind is asking more questions than I’m comfortable with.
Would it be bad to be involved with my rodeo partner?
Would Dane want to be?
Why is he so distant one minute and melting into me the next?
When I’m finally feeling more at ease, I wipe down my mat and head to the showers. Dane’s locker is empty and I’m thankful for that too, since this isn’t the place for me to be brave and ask him hard questions.
A place that serves desserts to soothe rejection is though.
Taking a year off from rodeo to care for my mental health was the best thing I ever did.
Most of my issues stemmed from low confidence and a fear of disappointing my dad.
I never talked about what bothered me, and it was a vicious cycle.
Over time, I gained confidence in voicing my feelings, and because of that confidence, I’m heading to this meeting with fewer nerves and maybe even a touch of anticipation.
Instead of letting this fester, me and Dane are sorting our shit today whether he likes it or not.
I won’t be his doormat or a booty call. If he doesn’t want us to do more than compete together, then that’s what we do.
We’re supportive teammates or nothing.
No matter how much I want him to be more than just a teammate.