And, holy shit, I’m actually doing it. I pant and grunt my way through the set, and then he offers me his hand to help me up. Butch doesn’t stop at just helping me up though, he tugs me towards him, and I have no choice but to let him, now that my legs are nothing but jelly. Is he going to kiss me? My stomach flutters and my breath catches. But the way our bodies finally collide isn’t a kiss at all, he chest bumps me and whoops again.
The motion startles a laugh out of me and makes something entirely new bloom in my gut. The chest bump is such abroway to celebrate a win, and lord help me, I kind of love it.
“I can’t believe I did that much.” I eye the weight setting just to be sure that I didn’t stick the pin in the wrong spot and now I’m celebrating for nothing. But, nope, it’s right there in the two-seventy notch. “I’m sure you can leg press, like, three times that. It’s kind of dumb to be excited about it.”
“Rocky—” His voice has that hint of sternness that makes the excited fluttering in my stomach all about him again. “—what did I tell you at your very first training session?”
“That I’m only competing against myself.” I paraphrase that first pep talk that’s been burned into my head, along with the memory of the intense way he held my gaze when he gave it.
“Exactly. That’s the most you’ve leg pressed. That makes it a win. Plus, you beat your mile time this morning. Think about how far you’ve come since that first session a few weeks ago.”
I can feel myself standing a little taller, a smile spreading across my face, and a sense of confidence I never expected fills up my chest like a balloon. He’s right—only a few weeks and I feel like a different person already. I’m stronger, but more importantly, I know what I’m capable of when I push myself.
“Thanks to you.”
Butch shakes his head and puts his hand on my shoulder. His touch is warm, and I can’t stop myself from leaning into it as he gives my shoulder a gentle, encouraging squeeze.
“Nah, Rocky, thanks toyou. I’m just the hard-ass who won’t let you give up.”
I sputter another laugh and bite my bottom lip, fighting the urge to fling my arms around his neck and hug him.
He crawled back into my tent the second night of our camping trip too, claiming he was cold even though he showed up in nothing but his boxers and a tank top, just like the first time. And we kissed again, but he didn’t push for more. I’m glad he didn’t, but I haven’t had the guts to ask what any of it meant. Was he really just cold? Is it possible he might like me, even a little?
He squeezes my shoulder again and nods towards the locker room. “You worked up a sweat today. Grab a shower if you need to, and I expect to see you back here on Wednesday morning, ready to add some more distance to your warm-up run.”
I glance over my shoulder and suppress the shudder that wants to run through me. There’s something uniquely intimidating about a gym locker room that I’m just not ready to tackle. Maybe one day, but I think I’ve done enough hard things for one morning. Plus, I think I need to gather up all my courage for a different task.
“Do you… um… have another client right away after me?” I glance around at other men jogging on the treadmills or spotting each other lifting, because that’s a lot easier than looking at Butch.
“Not for half an hour.”
“Jones called to cancel,” Callan says from behind the front desk. “So, you’ve got two hours until your next client.”
I wince at the reminder that the guys here always seem to be listening.
“Cool. I have to get to campus in a little bit, but do you think we could go get a smoothie next door and talk?” I keep my voiceas casual as possible, but when I finally do look at Butch, he’s wearing that big, goofy smile.
“Totally,” he says without hesitation. “Let’s go.”
I snag my messenger bag off the floor near the desk as we pass, with my change of clothes folded neatly inside so I can change in my office when I get to campus, plus all the graded essays I have to return today. Butch’s hand moves from one shoulder to the other, so his arm is stretched around me, the weight of it comforting and confusing at the same time.
My stomach twists and pulses with waves of nerves. Maybe I don’t need to out myself to Butch. The only reason to tell him is if I’m honestly delusional enough to think he might be interested in me. What are the chances? The memory of his mouth moving against mine in the dark makes my heart race. Fuck, but Iwanthim to be interested in me. Even if it’s only physical, just a fling with a gorgeous, sweet guy like Butch that will never last. I deserve that, don’t I?
I can practically hear Juno shouting in my ear “Yes, you fucking deserve that!”
Even if nothing else comes of it, I genuinely like Butch. I think maybe we’re becoming actual friends. And I want him to know me.
With my internal debate taking up most of my attention, I’m surprised when I realize it’s our turn to order. Butch orders a super greens protein smoothie, and I get the same because I’m way too jumbled to actually read the menu and make any decisions right now. Once we have our drinks, we grab a table near the front window and sit down.
BUTCH
Percy fidgets with his straw and shifts in his seat like he can’t get comfortable, shooting me a tight smile when his chair scrapes noisily against the tile floor.
“Fuck, I’m nervous,” he mutters, taking a sip of his smoothie and then wrinkling his nose. “Ugh, this tastes like someone put grass in a blender.”
I chuckle. “You get used to it.” I take a sip of my own, keeping my eyes on him the whole time. Why is he nervous? I figured he wanted to talk about that kiss. Orkisses. But why should that make him anxious? Maybe he just needs me to get things started. “Listen?—”
“I have to—” Percy says at the same time.
