Mentally calculating how long it’s been since Austin and I were together, I lose focus for a second.It can’t bethatlong!I think to myself. We had only started dating a month before my accident and he stuck by my side through my recovery, but at the end of the day, when I could no longer offer him the celebrity lifestyle that my MMA career had promised me, he was out the door in two seconds flat.
It’s been six months since I’ve even seen or heard from his sorry ass.
“So where do we sign?” Dylan’s voice cuts through my sidetracked brain.
Refocusing my attention back on him, I stammer. “Huh? What?”
He steps next to me, pats me on the shoulder, but his touch lands more on my chest than my arm. I stare down at his hand, struck dumb – well, dumber than I currently sound, anyway. He pulls his hand away, chuckling at me. “The gym. We like it. Where do we sign?”
Reid laughs along with Dylan as they follow me back out to the front entrance. I give them the paperwork and before long, they’re both off to the locker room to get changed.
I donotthink about what Dylan looks like out of his suit. Nope, I definitely don’t do that. It’s been so long since anyone has worked me up like that. And it’s ridiculous really, if I think about it.
Dylan’s here with his partner. They have a kid together. And here I am fantasizing about someone else’s man just because I think he’s attractive.
Though, anyone would be a fool to think otherwise. His light blond hair flops forward in his blue-grey eyes. Everything about him screams perfection; a hard jawline, dusted with the perfect five o’clock shadow; high cheekbones create a square shape without being too hard-edged. The one thing that’s not perfect, his nose; it’s crooked, looks like it’s been broken more than once. It actually makes him even more perfect than if it had been straight, somehow.
I can’t let myself go there, though. There’s too much on my plate right now to add in a relationship. When the hell did staring down a gorgeous man become looking for a relationship.
Maybe I just need to get laid.
Or sleep. Yeah, that’s it. I definitely just need some sleep.
It’s official. I’ve crossed the line into crazy.
Just as I try to shake the crazy away, I look up from my paperwork, and see Reid and Dylan step out of the locker room. Mesh shorts and t-shirts replace Dylan’s high-end suit, but he doesn’t look any less attractive. If it’s possible, he looks even more so.
I take a deep breath and get back to work. I need to get a ton of crap done if I want to stay on top of everything, especially since chances are Rachel won’t be in tomorrow either. Her migraines always last at least two days. So much for that day off I was hoping for.
An hour passes quickly, and as I focus my attention back into the gym, shamefully, I’m disappointed that I don’t see Dylan anywhere. Leaning forward on the desk, I stretch across it, trying to look into the weight room.
I’m not sure what sight makes me happier, seeing a small handful of people in there or watching Dylan do lateral side raises.
I’m gonna go ahead and cast my vote for Dylan. He’s got his short sleeves rolled up, exposing his muscled arms and golden skin. The cords of his upper arms bunch and pull with each movement, causing my dick to strain in my khaki shorts.
It’s a good thing I’m not wearing workout shorts because nothings screams “I’m a professional” like sporting wood at the front desk of your own gym.
Like the idiot I am, I laugh at myself, shaking my head and my own dumb thoughts away. Even if Dylan wasn’t here with his partner, hitting on a client an hour after they’ve signed up isn’t exactly the kind of precedent I want to set. Just as I’m about to return to the last of the files in need of my attention, I hear a weight crash to the floor and someone cry out in pain.
The wordlawsuitflashes in my head. Just my freaking luck.
I run around the corner of the desk, opening the door to the main room. When I see Dylan crouched on a bench, clutching his shoulder, doubled over in pain, I feel like an ass for my first thoughts being about me being sued and not who could have been hurt.
I squat in front of him. “What happened? Are you okay?”
His face is twisted in pain and he won’t let go of his shoulder. “I’ll be fine. It’s an old injury, torn rotator cuff.” He tries to stretch it out, maybe prove to me that he’s better than he actually is.
Breath hisses past his lips as he winces again. He immediately pulls his arm back into the position it was just in, crossed against his chest, his left arm supporting the weight of his right at the elbow.
“We have a trainer on staff,” I offer, hoping that he’ll take me up on it. “Might be able to help soothe some of the pain, get it moving again before too much swelling sets in.”
Reid jogs over, a bag of ice in his hand. “Here you go, Dyl.”
“Thanks.” Dylan takes it from Reid, but the exchange is odd, not at all what you would expect to see when one person in a couple is tending to the injuries of the other. There’s a casual air about the whole thing, which I dismiss as it being a routine injury, something they deal with all the time.
Dylan tries to move his shoulder again, but he’s not having much success. “I think I’ll take you up on that trainer,” he says as he gets up from the bench, looking over at Reid.
Something passes between them and then Reid pulls his phone from his pocket. “I should get going now anyway.” He swallows back the rest of his water before chucking the empty bottle into the recycling can. “It was good meeting you, Conner. See you tomorrow, Dyl.” And then he just walks away, leaving me and Dylan alone, our only company the excitement I feel that I finally have him to myself.
