Bro, stop stalking me
Lmfao
Jk thanks
haha yeah I’m checking out the new gym and saw the court at the right time
Nice
you ever think about going pro?
Nah. Believe it or not, some people don’t want to live life on hard mode
I bark out a laugh and tap out a reply, still grinning, when someone clears their throat.
I jerk my head up to find Ian grinning at me.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asks.
“No, why?”
He scoffs. “Oh, no reason. You’re just half-nakedly smiling into your phone. I thought I'd check in case you were having a little fun with someone.”
Heat floods my cheeks, and I shove my phone into my pocket.
Damn it, I’m half-naked like Ian said—I don’thavea pocket. My phone falls to the tiled floor with a clatter.
“I was replying to a text,” I mutter, bending over and inspecting my phone for damage. “You know me. No hookups since I was a sophomore.”
Ian tilts his head but stays silent, choosing to get changed instead of replying. Still, there’s some kind of inquisitive expression plastered across his face as he slips into the borderline-obscene pair of tiny workout shorts he always wears on leg day.
Sure,objectively, my buddy has some nice legs, but I’m not trying to get an eyeful whenever I talk to him.
“You know, you have options beyond hooking up,” he finally says.
Groaning, I finish pulling on my own pair of gym shorts, which aren’t nearly as obnoxious as Ian’s. “Man, I’m graduating in, like, six months.” It’s my newest excuse—my go-to has gone through various iterations over the years, from “I’m still hung upon my ex,” to “I’m focusing on training,” to “too much drama, must avoid.”
“And besides, guys always want to hook up before going out with me,” I continue, hinting at my real motivation for staying alone. “You know I don’t like that.”
“Yeah.” Ian exhales and presses his locker shut. “That’s tough, but I’m suresomeoneis gonna wait for you.”
I manage to hold back a wince, smiling back and digging around in my bag for my earbuds. The way someone is gonna have towaituntil I get over my quirks doesn’t bode well for my prospects.
“It’s whatever,” I mutter, shoving my darkening thoughts aside. “But enough of that. Let’s work out.”
The two of us head into the weight training area, and Ian lets out a slow whistle as soon as we step in.
“Talk about an upgrade. Holy shit.” He scans the room, searching, and his face lights up a few seconds later. “Fuck yeah. They have ahip thrustmachine.”
I don’t have a chance to rib him for being a little too excited, because he’s speed walking over to use said machine before I can even think. Shrugging, I grab a mat to warm up—Ian’s on a years-long mission to fill out the lower part of his uniform, and if it makes him happy, who am I to judge?
Once I’m loose and limber, I bang out some reps on the leg extension while trying not to show concern for the sheer volume Ian’s trying to lift. My latest body composition scan confirmed I’m not lacking in leg power at all, so I don’t go nearly as hard as?—
Ian’s walking over. He probably wants a spot. I’m all done, so I stand up.
“Spot me on the squat rack?” he asks.
“You bet.”
