“Hey,” she says with a smile.
“Hi,” I breathe, glancing around. “I just need to grab something.”
She scoffs. “Really?” She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at me. This isn’t good. “I didn’t know you’d be this ridiculous.”
I press my lips together. “I told you what it was last night. I can’t date anyone, I have a lot of shit going on.”
She scoffs. “You can work out here, Dylan. I know you’re not here to grab anything, it’s the fucking campus gym. I’m not going to bite. Just wanted to say hi.”
I nod and shake my head at the same time. “Yeah. No. I just stopped by to grab something I left yesterday.”
I bolt to the men’s locker room and stand inside like a raging idiot for… I don’t know. Fucking count to ten. Then I’m out the door.
Her eyes catch mine right before I leave the gym, and I wave like a fucking turd. I storm out onto the concrete and make my way to the parking lot, googling the nearest off-campus gym that’s not Planet Fitness.
I drive twelve minutes away, finding myself sitting outside of a gym run by a local family. I throw the truck in park and sigh.This is safer than the campus gym. There will be no previous one-night stands here. Cool beans.
I walk into the gym, ask for a seven-day free trial, and hop on a treadmill. Right away, I break into a jog. Then I start doing sprints, trying to ease my mind of how fucking awkward it was to bump into my one-night stand the morning after she snuck out.
It’s not that I’m not interested in her; it’s just that I’m not interested in anyone. Fuck, Scott was right about this shit. One day, it’s going to bite me in the ass, so as I’m sprinting my third round, I decide to make a change. I need to stop fucking around. No more hooking up. If I can’t stand the thought of a woman at thirty years old, then I have no right to access her at twenty.
I slow the machine to a jog and keep it running for some time. Enough time for me to get lost in thought, trying to clear my head of all the intrusive negative shit lurking around. God, I need to get it together.
The gym door’s open, and it’s loud as shit, so it catches my attention. The hottest girl I’ve ever seen walks in, and this is no understatement. She iscome in your pantsat the sight of herhot. She’s like a goddamn Victoria’s Secret model. I’ve never seen such a long, slender body with a face that could cut you with a single look. Her angles are out of this world, and her brown eyes scream,"Get to know me,"and for a place as cold as this, I’ve never seen such warmth. I have a fucking lump in my throat even though she’s across the entire gym and hasn’t noticed me. She waves at the people behind the counter, starting a friendly conversation. Her voice travels across the gym, and everyone stills.
Nobody in this gym makes a fucking peep. The world pauses for the moment in her presence, and it seems like I’m not the only one affected by her.
I keep sprinting on the treadmill, needing to get rid of this feeling inside me. Ten seconds. Twenty. Keep. Fucking. Pushing.
The treadmill next to mine lights up, but I don’t look over. The gym isn’t packed, but it’s not that empty. Someone might not have the conscience of personal space, so I don’t think much of it. I just need to finish this sprint and get away from this person. I’m almost done. I nearly reach my peak, but fuck it, I need to get away from this person invading my space. When I lower my pace to a fast walk, I glance over, and to my surprise, it’s her.
My knees buckle, and I grab onto the machine before I fall onto the belt. It takes me less than a second to catch myself, but I still look like a fucking goof.
“Whoa there,” she says once I’ve stood up. I run my fingers through my mullet and hop back on the belt. I gotta love this mullet. She looks at my hair, and I feel the need to defend this stupid ass haircut. Last week at Rocky’s party, someone dared me to rock it like this for the rest of the month. I look like a moron.
“You okay?” she smiles. I glance at her perfect teeth, her beautiful lips stretched across them. And do I smell candy?
I blink, realizing that I’m staring. Fuck, I haven’t said a word. Then I look forward, noticing that everyone is staring at us. Shit. There’s no way a guy like me could land the interest of a girl like her.
There’s no fucking way.
I’m not ugly, but I’m also not the best-looking dude. I’m no Greyson Cress, man. I don’t have the strong jaw, a good nose, or the hair. Thanks to this fucking mullet. Honestly, I’m a fucking wreck. And I’m embarrassed as hell right now. With a girl like her? She’s America’s goddamn sweetheart. And she would never have eyes for a guy like me.
“Here,” she says. “Take a picture of me. Make sure the angles are good.”
I don’t even know her name, and she’s ordering me around? I take her phone and point it at her, taking one picture. Fucksocial media, dude. It brainwashes the hell out of everyone. Here is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and the confidence makes sense now. She knows she’s a smoke show.
She jokes, “You know the joke, take a picture, it lasts longer?”
I point the phone down, looking her in the eye. She looks forward and continues, “I’ll have that picture forever to remind me of how you’re dragging your jaw on the ground, new guy.”
I clench my jaw, wondering if I’ve seriously been dragging it on the ground since the moment she walked in. I probably have.
I stare, holding her phone out.
She laughs. “Take more than one picture, for God’s sake. What is it with you men? I need a dozen at least.”
I shut down my treadmill and hop off to get the shot she wants. Her perfect ass, and then from the side. I hand her phone back, this time leaving it balanced on the treadmill screen.
