My claws tapped against the hardwood as I made my way over to my walk-in closet. Carpet was a no-go when you had claws. Too many snags.
I really didn’t understand why Jade insisted Ihadto have such a large closet.
Everything I owned was essentially athletic clothing. Tanktops, compression shorts, basketball shorts, hoodies, gray sweatpants.
The necessities.
In fact, my house was pretty excessive in general. I would have been content with a smaller place, but a certain someone pressured me into this ostentatious monstrosity. She had to have the best of everything. New countertops. A fancy walk-in shower. An outdoor kitchen. I was renovating the gym and renovating the house, feeling totally overwhelmed and displaced, and she just kept pushing me. Asking for more and more, taking everything I had to give without offering anything in return.
And now that things were over between us, I was stuck with this giant empty house that I despised because it served as a reminder of her and the person she wanted me to be.
But that was in the past. I had something new to look forward to in the form of a curvaceous baker who seemed to like me exactly how I was.
I pulled on a pair of briefs, then basketball shorts that hit right above my knees, checking to see what it looked like with my cock tucked into the waistband like I did the other day when Tegan made me pop a boner. I was pretty certain that more of the same would be happening during our training sessions together. Maybe I could wear a cup? There were some bodybuilders who put a piece of bread in their underwear to hide the outline of their cock during competitions—maybe I could do that. I’d probably need two slices, or maybe even a burrito-size tortilla.
I snorted and shook my head. Gods, what the fuck was I doing? Per usual, I put on a Leviathan Fitness tank and topped things off with a neon-green Leviathan Fitness hoodie. The morning walk to the gym was chilly and I didn’t like people looking at my nipples. Ironic for someone who used to pose practically naked on a stage.
After getting dressed, I walked down to the kitchen and mixed my preworkout shake, checking my reflection in the microwave. My fur was an absolute mess but it was nothing a hat couldn’t fix.
The current preworkout in my rotation tasted like those supersweet fish candies and made my skin feel like it was covered in spiders. Really got my blood flowing, but in a good way. But maybe not when I’d be around Tegan?
Speaking of Tegan. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked my messages. We were definitely flirting yesterday. I was glad we could pick up where we left off at the wedding. There was definitely something there between us and it made me excited.
I typed out a message to Tegan.
Atlas:Just making sure you’re awake!
I took a few swigs of my preworkout and gazed down at my phone expectedly. The moment it vibrated, a wide smile turned up the corners of my muzzle.
Tegan.
Tegan:I’m awake. Barely.
A photo popped up on the screen next.
It was a picture of her dressed in black leggings with her new Leviathan Fitness tank top knotted into a crop top. The material stretched tight across her breasts and that same delicious band of skin showed above the waistband of her leggings. The strands of her strawberry blonde hair were tossed into another messy bun, her tiny pink tongue stuck out of her mouth, and with her free hand she was flipping the camera off—flipping me off!
She was so adorable. And she was flirting with me.
Shit.
Was I supposed to send her a picture back? I looked like hot garbage.
I hauled ass upstairs to my bathroom, the only room in my house with a full-length mirror long enough to capture my entire six-foot-seven frame.
Oh shit, a hat.
I ran to my bedroom and scanned my shelves for something that went with neon green. Purple would work.
I flipped the snapback on and carefully worked my ears through the holes before stroking my claws through the hair of my face and muzzle, doing whatever I could to make it look like I didn’t just roll out of bed. At this rate, I’d have to jog to the gym or I’d be late, but I wanted to show off a little bit. She brought out the confident side of me, one I’d thought I’d never find again.
Standing in front of my mirror, I puffed out my chest and flexed my quads, the lines of my muscles showing through my fur. I cocked my head to the side and smirked before snapping the pic.
Perfect.
My finger hovered over the send button.
What if she thought I was being douchey or showing off? I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable during our session together.
