Logan! That was it!
“He was nice.”
“He was a senior in college, and he stole twenty dollars from my wallet.”
“That was me. I needed a venti Starbucks and oatmeal before I worked out. I’ll pay you back, I promise. I plan to sell a million headshots tonight.”
He doesn’t say anything, but his exasperated sigh speaks volumes:Yeah, sure, you’ll pay me back. With what? The three dollars in residuals from your last commercial for no-rinse bathing wipes? I know how you make money: The down-low straight college boys toss you some cash to keep them happy and to keep your mouth shut. The money pipeline may have shut down from the Hollywood types you used to blackmail since everyone is gay now, but nothing has changed for men in the closet.
“My big break is coming soon,” I continue. “I promise.”
“Your big break is going to be a shoulder considering those weights you sling around at your age,” Teddy says.
“Can I work in?”
I look up. A man as beautifully dark and chiseled as the Chocolate Mountains outside the windows is staring at me.
“Speaking of dumbbells,” Teddy says, overhearing.
“I have to go.”
“Barry... don’t! Have some dignity for once in your life!”
I hang up on him.
“I’m Cole.”
Cole is holding an eighty-pound dumbbell in each hand.
“Barry,” I say, lowering my voice. I stand. “Have a seat, brah.”
“Spot me?”
I move behind the bench as he lies down on his back.
This man is perfect.
He lifts the set of dumbbells into the air. I count.
“Just one more rep,” I say. “C’mon! You got it!”
The strain turns Cole’s muscled arms jiggly, as if they’re made of Jell-O, but he releases a grunt that would stop a charging elephant in its tracks and finishes his set strong.
“Nice work, man,” I say.
“Thanks, Daddy.”
Anyone over thirty today is adaddy.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m mixing in legs today,” Cole says.
“Your legs don’t look like they need any work,” I remark.
“More my ass,” he says, giving it a slap. “It always needs work.”
My headache begins to fade.
