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“You want me to move so you can continue filming video of another member of this gym without their permission? Which is explicitly against the rules?”
That gets his attention. He makes eye contact, phone dropping at my expression. “I didn’t mean any harm, dude. It’s not like she’s naked or anything.” He slips his phone into his pocket, but I stop him by grabbing his wrist.
“Let me see the video.” I don’t let go of his wrist.
The douchebag winks. He fucking winks at me as he pulls the phone up and unlocks it. “You had me there for a second, man.” Two taps and the video is playing. Sure enough, it’s zoomed in on her ass as she does her pull ups. Douchey McSweatface lets go when I pull the phone closer, chuckling under his breath. “That’s what I thought. Look at that—hey!”
I hand the phone back, minus the video I just deleted. “Management already knows what you did.” I tip my chin toward Carl. “I’m doing this quietly for her sake, not yours—but I suggest you look for a new gym.”
Sweatface swallows hard when he realizes Carl is staring him down and walking this way. Sputtering protests, he backs up, but Carl lays a meaty hand on his shoulder and steers him toward the front door.
“Thanks.” A quiet voice by my elbow draws my attention away from the argument happening on the other side of the gym. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I rub the back of my neck. “You aren’t here for his entertainment—it was the least I could do. Besides, Carl’s an old buddy. I’m happy to help keep his gym clean. I’m Julian.”
“Nice to meet you, Julian. I’m Margot. I take it you’re a regular?” I follow her to the rack, past the kid Carl was talking to, who drops his eyes and looks away as soon as we come close.
“Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before?”
“I usually come late at night, after I get the kids to bed. I only came this morning because they’re spending the weekend at my mom’s.”
Margot and I chat as we finish our workout—comparing notes on our kids and spotting each other. She has three boys and a girl. Her kids all take Taekwondo, which prompted her to start working out so she could keep up with them.
I wonder if I could convince Frankie to come work out with me. Maybe she wouldn’t feel so afraid all the time if she did. I’m so lost in thoughts of Frankie, I jump when a hand lands on my shoulder.
“You okay, man?” Carl’s smile is savage. “Thanks for earlier. Margot doesn’t usually come when those guys are here.” He cracks his knuckles as I follow him to the front desk. “It’s always good to remind people of the rules around here. And that wasn’t the first complaint I’ve had about that kid. He’s always filming himself while he works out, trying to be some kind of TikTok influencer. I’ve had a few complaints from other people about not wanting to be collateral damage when he films, but that was way out of line.”
I take the water bottle Carl hands me. “You know me—can’t stand to see an asshole go unpunished.”
Carl and I chat a little longer—he wants my opinion on some new offerings at the gym—before my need to see Frankie is more than I can take.
The thought of assholes like that kid and Derek going unpunished bothers me the whole drive home. Why is it that a chiseled jaw and prominent cheekbones allow guys to think they’re entitled to anything and everything they want? If only it was as easy to get rid of someone like Derek as it was that kid.
Is it possible to get rid of Derek?
I hang a left instead of a right, and fifteen minutes later, I pull into the parking spot next to Frankie’s car. There’s a scream from inside when I pound my fist against the door.
“Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me.” Her face barely shows in the inch-wide gap she’s opened the door. What I can see isn’t happy.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, Frankie.” I nudge my foot into the gap, knocking it open a fraction wider, but Frankie holds it steady, and I don’t want to push too hard.
“Why are you here? Is something wrong?”
“Um,” I reach for a rational reason to be here. “Happy birthday? Can I come in?” Insecurity floods through me now that I’m here. Why didn’t I go home and at least shower? I must stink. “I had an idea.” Since I’m here, I might as well tell her.
Frankie huffs before letting the door swing open. Fuck, I should not have come. She’s still in her pajamas, a purple tank top that skims the waistband of the black sweatpants hanging off her hips. Her hair is unbrushed and her face is free of makeup. She looks like she just rolled out of bed and it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
Instead of turning around and going home, the smart thing to do, I step inside her apartment and close the door behind me. “Did I wake you up?”
“It’s not even nine o’clock on a Sunday morning, Julian. Yes. You woke me up.” She takes two steps inside. “Why are you awake?”
“I was at the gym.”
She grunts, then yawns, reaching her arms up to the ceiling in a giant stretch. The movement pulls her tank up, revealing a line of her soft skin, and I’m regretting my gray sweatpants when my dick gives a hopeful little twitch at the sight. “Coffee?”
It takes two tries before I can answer. “Sure, but it’s your birthday, let me make it for you.”
“Touch my espresso machine and die.” Frankie shuffles into the kitchen, pulling out mugs and a small silver pitcher. “Foam or no foam?”
