“And what was that like?” I asked.
He put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “You know, you should be doing your next set.”
“We can take it slow,” I suggested. “I don’t want to be too sore.”
“Fine,” he relented. “Let’s take a water break and I’ll tell you about it.”
We set the weights back on the rack and headed over to where we’d set our towels and water bottles. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and took a long drink while Atlas did the same. Well, sort of the same thing. He hadn’t worked up a sweat.
“Okay, spill,” I said.
“When I was in my twenties, I competed. I was doing two to three competitions a year, and I usually placed pretty well.”
“Five-time physique gold medalist,” I added.
“Yes.” He laughed. “Five-time physique gold medalist. I enjoyed it, but it was a ton of work. Lots of time in the gym, super- strict diet, and when I was cutting for competitions, I was just constantly hungry. Food was all I could think about. Then I’d compete, go back to my normal physique, then repeat the entire process all over again.”
“And you’d do that two to three times a year?”
“Yep.”
Honestly, that sounded like a miserable existence. I was all for people chasing their goals, but there was no way I had something like that in me.
“Do you miss it?” I asked.
“Sometimes. But see”—he leaned in, almost whispering in my ear—“I met this really cute baker, and if I want her to keep hanging out with me, I have to keep eating the cupcakes she brings me.”
My breath caught in my chest.Cute. He called mecute.
Before I could come up with a response, he sauntered away, smiling at me like he knew exactly what he was doing. “Why don’t we finish with some light cardio?”
Fifteen
Atlas
We had already gone wayover the one-hour training session I’d planned, but I was in no rush for this to end.
Tegan crossed her arms over her chest, eyeing me warily. “It depends on what your idea of light cardio is…”
“Thirty-minute walk on the treadmill?” I asked.
“Just a walk. No running?”
I laughed. She must really hate cardio. If she was ever going to run under the full moon with me, we were going to have to work on that.
The thought caught me off guard.
Where the fuck did that come from?
“No running,” I reassured her.
She let out a slow breath, making a show of checking her watch. “I think I can do thirty minutes.”
An extra thirty minutes with her wasn’t a lot, but I’d take anything at this point.
Tegan and I made our way back upstairs, and I chose twotreadmills that overlooked the gym floor below. I didn’t want to watch TV while we walked. I needed her full attention.
I explained the settings and how to adjust the speed, and we started our treadmills. Tegan set hers at a snail’s pace—at least for a wolven—while mine was much faster, more of a light jog than a walk.
