Unknown number.
My heart thudded hard as I clicked it open.
Hey, it’s Wyatt. I was going to go to the gym on my lunch when I realized I hadn’t asked if exercise would cause any issues with the piercing.
My grin came on automatic as I quickly saved his number.
Shouldn’t be an issue, though I’d make sure to rinse off post all that sweating.
An idea leapt into my head, but before I could dissuade myself, I’d typed out a message and sent it.
If you want, I can come work out with you and check it after.
Terrible plan. Terrible, terrible plan, and I’d just guaranteed he’d never text me again. I sank back in my seat and tipped my head back to stare up at the ceiling.
“Did a hookup message you or something?” August asked with his mouth full of corn-bran clusterflakes. “What’s the deal?”
My phone buzzed again, and I checked the message.
If you’re serious, yeah. I wasn’t kidding about being a lonely old divorcee. I’ll be at DiMarco Gym at noon.
My fingers typed at light speed.
See you there.
Truthfully, I didn’t need the gym at this point. I’d done so many laps around the house trying to quell the jittery energy rushing through me that I’d gotten a solid cardio workout in. But seriously, Wyatt was the hottest guy I’d seen in a while, and there was no way in hell I’d pass up on the chance to watch him work out. If he needed me to spot him for weights, I could die happy.
DiMarco Gym was a familiar one for me, and I went on and off with gym memberships. I was great with a regular regimen for a while, while things were shiny, and then I got distracted. Movement always factored into my daily equation, but sometimes my workouts involved runs at the park instead of the whole reps at the gym thing.
I pulled into the parking space and turned off the ignition of my beat-up Chevy. The fact I didn’t do a flying leap out of my car was a testament to my willpower. Instead, I took a beat to scan the lot and spotted a familiar truck. Jackpot.
When I got out, the driver’s side door to the truck cracked open, and Wyatt stepped out.
The sight of him stopped me still, which was a rarity in and of itself.
The man wore gray sweatpants.
Like he purposefully tried to dangle his glorious cock in front of me. His dark hair was slicked back, a little windswept, and he lifted a hand in greeting. He hadn’t bothered with a jacket, even with the early winter cold, just wearing a hoodie with Anderson Carpentry on the front.
He could nail me any time, baby.
His dark eyes crinkled with his smile, and damn, he should come with a warning label, because my pulse sped up.
“I should’ve mentioned I can get you in as a guest on my membership,” he said. “So I’m glad I ran into you out here.”
“It’s a great gym,” I said, starting to stride toward the entrance. “What’s your usual workout? You look like a weights guy.”
“Is that something you can tell on sight?” he asked, his brow crinkling. “Guilty, though. Best to keep in shape for the job.”
I licked my lips. Push a little or play it safe. Safe was for losers. “Do you know how many gym junkies are gay? It’s competitiveout there.”
Wyatt let out a “hmm” sound low enough to make my cock wake up, like a diesel engine rumble. “Six months divorced and I’m learning a whole slew of new stuff.”
Damn, if he’d let me, I’d teach him so much more.
“We can start on cardio if you want,” I teased. “Sure all the jogging will feel great.”
Wyatt winced as he held the door open for me and gestured. My heart skipped a beat as I stepped inside first. He strode up to the front desk and handed over a card to the chick there. “He’s with me.”
