Ch. 51 – Prem
P rem pushed open the door to Junkyard Dogs Gym. Nothing like the faint smell of sweat and jockstrap to start a Saturday morning off right. Sure, his exhausted brain sorta hated him for trading delicious sleep for slinging around weights, but truth was, shooting the shit with the guys while grunting under barbells a few days a week had become pretty much the only bright spot in his life.
Layla.
He tightened his grip on the handles of his gym bag. Only thing worse than seeing her at work every day was not seeing her ever again. And that was his new reality.
Prem’s brain immediately pivoted to the night before, to Layla entering his office with determination in her eyes. When she’d slid that pink, sparkly heart of hers to him, he’d almost given in. Almost pulled her across the desk and claimed her mouth with his own.
But something had stopped him. A wicked whisper of warning. She hurt you once…what makes you sure she wouldn’t do it again?
He’d been strong last night. Resisted temptation. Saved his heart from being trampled again. Weird, though, how much it hurt. How he could barely breathe, barely function under the weight of his right decision.
Shit . Prem needed to lift something heavy, preferably about a thousand times really fast, so his stupid heart would have to focus on keeping him alive instead of pining for a woman he loved but couldn’t trust.
Prem shoved his bag into a cubby and stalked to the back of the gym where two men performed dynamic stretches. Hue wore his usual workout attire of battered jeans and work boots, while Cam’s loose tank announced, “Excuse My Resting Gym Face.”
Prem frowned. “Where are Rico and Sully? They sleeping in?” Those two always seemed to be yawning during their Saturday morning lifting sessions.
Cam shook his head. “Nah, they’re both at some trail race with their ladies.”
The race.
Layla’s race!
Prem almost groaned out loud. She’d been training so hard for it. How could he have forgotten it was today?
Ding, ding, ding, he knew the answer. Because he’d been doing everything humanly possible to avoid her for the past two weeks. He’d nearly perfected the art of conducting entire conversations with her through a series of grunts from across the room.
Hue, a fellow grunter enthusiast, offered a loud one himself. “Those dumbasses are gonna be sitting in dirt all day playing cheerleader when they coulda’ been hanging with us.” He shook his head in derision. “Sad.”
Cam laughed as he performed a set of air squats while the tinny speakers squawked Metallica overhead. “One day, Hue, you’re gonna fall hard for someone. The earth will stand still. Lucifer will be ice skating in Hell, and I’ll be so damn happy for you.”
“Fuck no,” Hue growled, bending over, arms outstretched, fingers roughly a mile from touching his toes. “Been there. Done that. Got the T-shirt and the divorce. Never again.”
Cam sighed and shook his head before dragging a bench beneath each barbell rack.
“Those two are so pussy whipped,” Hue added, dropping to the ground and performing a fast set of 20 pushups. Though Hue didn’t possess Cam’s insanely chiseled physique, he wasn’t hurting for muscle mass himself.
Hue finished his pushups but seemed to just be warming up his diatribe. “No one’s nagging me to pick up my dirty socks, clean the dishes, or put down the toilet seat. Gentlemen, I’m living the dream.”
Except, Hue didn’t seem to be living the dream. Prem hadn’t known the red-headed giant for long, but Hue struck him as grouchy. Defensive. Lonely. In fact, if Prem didn’t know better, he’d almost guess that Hue hadn’t just ended his last relationship with a t-shirt and divorce in hand. He’d also walked away with a broken heart.
You’re projecting, Prem told himself as he pressed further into a runner’s stretch despite the complaints from his bad hip. For Hue to have a broken heart, he’d have to have been in love. Looking at the gruff, cynical man in front of him, Prem had trouble imagining any universe where that could be a reality.
Cam clucked his tongue as he lowered the J-hooks on the barbell rack to set up for bench press. “A man needs love just as much as water and air. It feeds him. Nourishes his soul. All joking aside, I hope you’ll realize that one day, Hue.”
The other man snorted derisively. “I don’t see you shacking up with anyone, pretty boy.”
Prem paused in the middle of switching his stretch to the other leg. Hue was right. Cam had never spoken about a girl. How was that even possible? The gym owner could play a Marvel action star on TV. His smile probably melted the panties off every woman within a mile radius.
Why in the world was he single?
“Do you have a girl?” Prem asked. “Or guy? Sorry for assuming.”
A slight flush rose on Cam’s face, and he looked away. “There is someone,” he said faintly. “But there are…mitigating circumstances. The timing…it’s not right.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Hue asked.
An expression flickered across Cam’s face, a longing so deep, so visceral, that Prem sucked in a breath. He understood that pain. That sorrow.
Cam forced a smile. “It means we’re done talking about this topic,” he said. “Now, we’re working on bench press, so let’s start on some warm-up sets.”
“Thank god,” Hue muttered.
Prem glanced at Cam again, but whatever profound emotion he’d seen on the gym owner’s face had disappeared beneath his good-natured mask.
Prem set his own face. Time to focus. Time to lift, sweat, and forget. “I’m going heavy today,” he told the boys.