3 - Jess
Jess
I stared at him as if I were under a spell.
Tousled dark hair fell over his forehead, and his piercing blue eyes remained locked onto me.
Lean muscles shifted under his fitted black tank top with the Capitol Fitness logo over the heart.
His name tag said Hunter. He leaned forward, easy confidence radiating from him, stirring something hot and unexpected low in my belly.
Wrinkles tightened at the corners of his eyes as he frowned. “You are Jess, right?” he asked in a voice that was smooth and warm, like honey poured over steel.
I gave myself a shake. “Jess. I mean, yes. I am Jess. I’m… she. How’d you know?”
I groaned internally. Nothing about today was going how I expected.
“The intake form you filled out,” he explained, as if everything was fine and I wasn’t making a total ass out of myself. “You said you’d be coming in for a tour of the gym.”
“Yes! Right!” I said. “That’s why I’m here.”
He smiled like everything was fine and I wasn’t making an ass of myself. “Perfect. My name’s Hunter. You can usually find me here at the front desk or over at the bar. It’s a juice bar, with coffee and some other snacks. Sorry, but no alcohol.”
Hunter chuckled, and I laughed with him.
“I just need you to sign this liability waiver before the tour. It’s all basic stuff, protecting us in case you trip on a machine and try to sue us.”
I couldn’t stop staring at the way his biceps flexed when he handed me the waiver. I imagined those strong hands gripping a barbell, or a towel.
Or me.
The thought flooded me with a rush of heat that had nothing to do with any potential workout.
“Okay, let’s get the tour started,” he said when I filled out the waiver.
He started walking while talking to me over his shoulder.
“Welcome to Capitol Fitness. We have four locations around the D.C. area, and your membership gives you access to all of them. Before we start, can I ask what you’re interested in here? Or what your fitness goals are?”
“Oh, it’s dumb,” I said with a nervous laugh.
Hunter slowly shook his head. “I’ve been working here three years, and I’ve heard it all. Trust me: there’s no dumb reason to come to the gym. But if you don’t want to share, that’s cool, too.”
“I have a wedding to go to in four months. I think. It’d be nice to lose a few pounds before that. I’ve kind of let myself go since college.”
Hunter stopped and pointed a finger at me. “I’m not really supposed to comment on customers’ bodies, but I’ll just say I wholeheartedly disagree with your assessment.”
Swoon. Shower me with compliments, Hunter.
“You’re probably required to make customers feel good about themselves,” I said.
“I kind of am, yeah,” he admitted, then leaned in and lowered his voice. “But it’s nice to actually mean it for once. I totally get what you’re saying about the wedding. Everyone wants to look their best for the photos.”
Or to show up your asshole ex-roommate. Same thing.
“Any other goals?” he asked.
“I guess I’d like to get my arms toned,” I said. “I don’t want to look like I take steroids or anything. But I’d like a little definition, if that’s possible.”
“I know exactly what you mean. We get that request a lot. Sounds like you’ll be doing some cardio, and mixing resistance training in when you can. Let’s start with the former.”
The gym was divided into several large rooms with open doors between them. The area to the left, adjacent to the entry area, was filled with rows of treadmills and other cardio equipment.
“This is the Sweat Sanctuary,” Hunter announced.
A sign matching the name hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room.
“Treadmills, ellipticals, stepmasters, you name it. Make sure you wipe down the machines after use—there are towel racks and sanitary wipe dispensers throughout the gym. Use as many as you want; they’re refilled regularly. ”
About a dozen of the machines were occupied, which created a constant background noise of humming and whirring.
I glanced around the room, searching for the asshole I’d bumped into in the parking lot.
Fortunately, he was nowhere to be found as Hunter led me down an aisle and through an open doorway.
“Over here is the Muscle Mansion. That’s the official name, but we also colloquially call it the Swole Shed or Shred Shed, depending on if you’re bulking or cutting.”
Bulking. Cutting. I nodded along like I understood what that all meant. The noise in here was more chaotic, plates clanking and banging together from at least ten different stations.
“You’ve got your resistance machines on this side of the room,” Hunter pointed, “and your free weights on the other side. Each machine has a QR code on the side you can scan; it’ll show you how to use it, and what muscle groups it targets.
The free weights are a little more complicated if you’ve never used them before.
Dumbbells and kettlebells are no big deal, but I’d caution against using barbells or the squat racks unless you know what you’re doing.
Oh, and as a general rule: only use one machine at a time. ”
“Isn’t that the only way to do it?” I asked with a smirk. “Why would anyone take up more than one at the same time?”
“You’d be surprised,” Hunter replied with an easy smile, like it was no big deal.
“And speaking of rules, there’s absolutely no photography allowed in the gym.
Privacy is extremely important to us at Capitol Fitness, and we want our customers to feel safe at all times.
Obviously we can’t stop people from using their cell phones, but we have a zero-tolerance policy for photography.
If you’re caught taking a photo, even just a selfie in the mirror, you’ll be asked to leave. ”
“Good! I mean, that won’t be a problem. I’m not an influencer or anything.”
“Glad to hear it,” he said, and he sounded so genuine that I felt like he really meant it. “And of course, if you suspect that someone else takes a photo of you or someone else at the gym, please notify a member of the staff immediately.”
I followed him through the Muscle Mansion, passing every shape and size of person imaginable.
There was a tiny woman who looked like a gymnast squatting a barbell with multiple plates on each side, and next to her was a string bean of a man curling dumbbells in front of the mirror.
Seeing such a variety, rather than only flawless physical specimens, helped me relax.
“Locker rooms are through here,” Hunter explained.
“There’s an entrance here in the Muscle Mansion, and another one that connects to the lobby where my front desk is.
Each locker room has seven showers, with soap, shampoo, conditioner, and towels provided.
We have a lot of customers who come here during their lunch break, so it’s nice that they can clean up and go back to the office smelling clean and fresh. ”
“That’s great,” I said. I was honestly struggling to pay attention because of how cute Hunter was. I couldn’t wait to text David about it.
I reminded myself that I was here to get back in shape, not to look for a boyfriend.
Hunter continued the tour. “Down this hallway are the activity rooms. Spin classes are held in here.” He gestured as we passed a room full of Pelotons.
“Class schedule is posted outside the room and online. They’re included with your membership, but we ask that you sign up in advance so we know how many people to accommodate.
Some of the classes can get busy, especially after work. ”
We passed several squash courts, and then a lap pool.
“The four rooms here at the end are for personal training,” Hunter explained. “We have a number of amazing trainers on staff who can help you meet your goals with personalized care. Your membership includes one free session, in case you’re interested.”
Only one of the rooms was currently occupied.
A woman was doing crunches while a trainer wearing the same tank top as Hunter held her ankles together and gave her words of encouragement.
He glanced over at us through the glass, and did a double-take when he saw me.
He turned his gaze to Hunter, flashed his eyebrows up for a moment, then returned his attention to the woman doing crunches.
“That’s Brock,” Hunter said. “One of our best trainers. If you want to try free weights, he’s great at perfecting your form.”
Speaking of perfect form, Brock was a hunk in every sense of the word.
His arms bulged with muscle as he held the woman’s ankles together, and when she finished her set he stood up and high-fived her.
His thighs were like chiseled tree trunks, and I wondered if he was an athlete before becoming a trainer.
The Nutrition Nook was the final stop on the tour; in addition to the smoothie and coffee bar, there were glass-door refrigerators and racks of protein bars and other snacks.
“Everything’s self-checkout. Scan your badge at the kiosk, then scan the item, and it’ll automatically charge whatever credit card is linked to your account.” He grabbed a protein bar and held it up. “These are my favorite. Twenty grams of protein, and no added sugar.”
“You sound like an infomercial,” I teased.
Hunter’s laugh soothed my soul in a way I didn’t realize I needed. “I promise I’m not a paid shill. I’ve just had a lot of protein bars in my life, and these are the best.” He placed it back on the shelf and led me back to the front desk. “How long have you worked at Fisher Investments?”
I gave a start. “Fisher?”
“The voucher you scanned for a free month,” Hunter clarified. “It’s from Fisher Investments.”
“Oh! Right. I’m, uh…”
My flailing must have been obvious, because Hunter quickly came to my rescue. “It’s all right if you don’t work there. Honestly, we give out thousands of vouchers. We don’t care who uses them, we’re just trying to get new customers through the door and get them hooked.”
“My roommate gave me the voucher,” I explained.
Hunter squinted at me. “Ah hah! Caught you. You just admitted to voucher fraud.” Before I could freak out, he held out both palms in a soothing motion. “Just kidding. We really don’t care. Time to take the photo for your member badge. If you can stand up against this wall for me…”
I felt my cheeks redden as I positioned myself in front of the webcam. I was terrible at being photographed, and was already cringing at how I knew it would turn out.
“You should wipe that mustard off your lip first,” Hunter said casually.
“What!” I frantically started rubbing at my mouth.
“Just kidding. You look fine.”
“You son of a—” I teased, barely containing a laugh.
“Got it,” Hunter said, smiling proudly as he swiveled the computer monitor around to show me. “Look at that smile.”
He’d snapped the photo at the perfect moment, my eyes slightly wide with shock and a surprised grin on my face. For once, I actually kind of liked how I looked.
“Yeah?” he teased. “I nailed it, didn’t I?”
“Not bad,” I admitted.
The printer on the desk whirred to life, and then he handed me a badge with my name, photo, and member ID on it.
“That’s about the gist of it,” Hunter said. “If you ever need anything, just come ask.”
“I’d love to,” I replied. Then, realizing I sounded way too thirsty, I added, “I mean, I will. Thanks!”
I quickly left the station, closing my eyes and cringing to myself. Get it together, Jess.
To keep things simple on my first day, I went straight to the Sweat Sanctuary and picked an elliptical in the back row.
After stretching my legs a little bit, I got on and started moving.
A few button-presses later and the machine was programmed for a thirty-minute workout. That sounded about right.
I blasted music in my AirPods, my playlist picking up where it had left off in the car with Pink Pony Club. That immediately caused me to start moving faster, getting into the rhythm of the exercise.
A smile spread across my face. This was good. I was glad David had pushed me into coming. I would never tell him that outright, though. He would gloat about it for months.
People were constantly moving throughout the gym, but I tuned them out while humming along to the music in my ears. I was vaguely aware of someone getting on the elliptical to my right. At first, I ignored them, but I finally glanced over when I felt their eyes on me.
My heart sank when I saw who it was.
Him.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, pausing my music.
The guy from the parking lot was shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re all kinds of in my way today.”
“I was here first, and I’m hardly in your way,” I spat back.
“That’s my favorite machine. Best view of the TV.”
“There are, like, twenty other ellipticals you can use.”
“I know,” he said, acid dripping from every word. “Which is why I’m on this one. Just mind your own business and leave me alone, all right?”
“You’re the one who started talking to me!” I sputtered.
He put an oversized pair of headphones on. “Something I’m already regretting.”
“Asshole,” I muttered, but not before glancing at the membership badge sitting in the cupholder on his machine. His name was Dane.
He pointed at his headphones and mouthed, “Sorry, I can’t hear you.”
I tore my gaze away from Dane The Asshole and cursed under my breath. I wondered if Hunter would do something if I said that he was bothering me.
After a moment of consideration, I shook my head. I just wanted to do my workout in peace. I had enough willpower to block this guy out of my mind and focus on the elliptical, and the warmth building in my leg muscles as I worked harder.
Besides, maybe David was right. Sometimes it was good to have a nemesis.