14. Charli #2
Jed clicks away at the computer. He looks up and lifts his eyebrows at me. “I’ll send him over to you when he’s done here. You can show him around, right, Charli? I’m short staffed today and can’t leave the desk this afternoon.” He gives me a tight smile.
“Sure, no problem, Jed,” I answer. So much for working out separately.
He joins me in about ten minutes. Looking in the mirrors, my face is getting flushed and I’m starting to sweat.
He steps onto the treadmill next to me, wearing light gray gym shorts and a black dri-fit t-shirt.
He starts off with a jog, like I’m doing.
I wonder if he wore those shorts on purpose, like those guys who wear the gray sweatpants in the winter.
I can’t help but stare at his crotch in the mirror.
Fuck. He’s big, there’s no hiding it in those shorts.
There’s a definite bulge and now that he’s picking up his pace, there’s movement.
A lot of movement. Don’t guys have those sport short underwear that hold them in?
I flick my eyes up and catch him watching me. He just gazes into my eyes in the reflection. I’ve been caught checking out his package after my big friend zone speech.
I adjust my treadmill to walk and look down at my watch. Play it cool. I turn to him, and say, “I think I’m going to do legs today. I’m going to do a few stretches first, then I can show you around.”
“Sure, I’ve got about three more minutes here and I’ll meet you on the mat.”
I take a sip of water and move toward the mats to begin, keeping my back to him.
I don’t want to be caught looking again, like a creeper.
After a few minutes, I bend over, with my arms behind my back to stretch my hamstrings.
I peek through my legs to see him looking at my butt in the mirror.
He holds my eyes for a few seconds before stepping off the treadmill and turning to walk over here.
Shit, this was a bad idea. I’m attracted to him, like really fucking hot for him.
And here we are in a gym, all sweaty and half dressed. Is this a form of foreplay?
He starts stretching right near me, and asks, “So how often do you work out here?”
“Usually a few times a week, maybe more in the winter. I take some classes once in a while too, depending on my schedule. Sometimes I come in the morning on my days off.”
“Nice. Well, you're in great shape. It shows that you put the time in working out and staying fit.” He smiles appreciatively at me, the stubble on his square jaw framing his full lips.
I bet that smile gets him a lot of attention, because it’s working on me.
I’m getting more hot and bothered than just from my workout.
“Um thanks— you're in good shape too,” I stammer. I cast my eyes downward and decide to retie my shoelace so I don’t have to look him in the face. Standing, I ask, “Are you ready?”
“Yeah, sounds good. I’ll follow you.” He makes room for me to move in front of him.
We begin our circuit in the weight room: back squats, front squats, deadlifts, and front hinges first. We change out the weights for my turns and his.
I just cannot with the gray shorts and the squatting motions.
He lifts a lot for not being huge, and he’s totally cut.
We chat off and on, but mostly we are just watching each other in the mirror as we lift.
His hair is getting damp with sweat at the temples and I feel sweat trickling down my neck and back between my shoulder blades.
“So did you play sports in school?” he asks. “You seem athletic.”
“I was on the sailing team, of course, and I played some club soccer. What about you?”
“Sailing team for me too and a little basketball.” He uncaps his water and takes a long drink.
“I had hoped that being successful on the sailing team would impress my mom, but it was never enough for her.” It’s hard to admit this out loud, but freeing at the same time.
“That’s too bad for you. I’m really sorry.” His deep brown eyes soften, but not out of pity.
I take another sip of my water. “My grandparents were super supportive and that helped, coming to races and cheering me on.”
“My dad was the assistant coach of our team.” He looks at the floor and chews his lip.
“Was it good to have that time together? My mom would have mortified me.” I stop to redo my hair as pieces are falling out and getting in my eyes.
“Yeah, it was good for us. He was pretty chill, but a good teacher.”
We move onto the free weights area and do lunges, reverse lunges, lateral lunges, and step-ups.
“You have good balance on your lunges.”
I laugh nervously and wave my hand. “I took some gymnastics lessons when I was younger before I got too tall. And my cousin Sam is into yoga, so I take classes with her when she visits.”
“What next?” he asks before grabbing a towel to wipe his face off.
“How about a round of step-ups each, then back to the bar for glute bridges and hip thrusts.” How awkward. Hip thrusts? I stare at my watch to avoid his eyes.
If I wasn't sure he was big, I can confirm that he is certainly packing. With the bar right across his hips, his bulge protrudes forward. There's nowhere else for it to go.
I can’t help but look as he adds weight to the bar when I’m done and settles himself into position.
He lays the bar across his lap and raises his hips up and down slowly in a consistent rhythm.
I take a long drink of water as he looks at me through hooded eyes.
He grunts softly at the last two reps before relaxing.
Is this what they call eye fucking? There’s no hope for me now. I can’t stop watching him. Would a summer fling be so terrible? This is bad. I don’t know if I can keep this up. I want him, but I need to stay only friends with him.
I go to the bathroom before we do our final reps and stretches. While I’m in the stall I hear two younger girls chatting as they look in the mirror. “Oh my God, did you see that new guy here? The tall blonde?”
“How could I miss him? He is soooo hot!”
“Yeah, did you see his shorts?” They erupt into a fit of giggles. I sit there for another second. My stomach drops and I squeeze my eyes shut. I can't go out there now. They would have noticed me with him.
“Yeah, he was with that lady from the bagel shop. Come on. Let’s go.”
The lady from the bagel shop. I am so old. I’m too old for him. I mean he’s also too old for those girls. I need to just stop. It’s so foolish to even think about being with him.
Back in the gym, we only talk about the weight we want to use and which ones we’ve cleaned off for other people.
We end with goblet squats, leg presses, leg curls, and single leg deadlifts.
After some quick stretches, we leave the gym.
The rain has lightened a bit and I need to get home.
I have work tomorrow and my bed will be calling me soon.
“Hey, thanks for showing me the gym. I think it’ll work out well for me this summer.”
We pull up at the wharf. “No problem.” I tease, “I hope you're not too sore tomorrow.”
He leans back in his seat and looks at me. “It’s okay if I am. Sometimes it feels good to be a little sore after a workout, you know what I mean?”
I bite my lip, knowing I’m going to need my vibrator tonight. “Yeah, it’s like your muscles telling you that they need to be used.”
“Mmhm.” He nods, looking at my mouth. His gaze returns to my eyes. “Well, thanks for working out today. It was a good time. What are you up to tonight?”
“I’ve got to get to bed early, I’ll be up at four tomorrow.”
“Sweet dreams then,” he says, his voice raspy.
“Bye.”
I drive back towards the market because I’m going to need some ice cream for tonight.
If I can’t have him, I’ll have Ben and Jerry.
I mean I probably could have him if I wanted to, but that doesn’t mean I should.
He’s doing this on purpose. He pretty much admitted that he likes me at paddle-boarding but said that he understood about being friends.
But he was totally flirting with me today, with the steamy looks, the fucking hip thrusts, and those god-damn gray shorts.
He must think that I’ll cave. I have to stay strong.