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Me: At the gym. The Jerk is here. HELP!!!
I wait impatiently, but she doesn’t respond, and I am running out of time. I need to get to the change rooms which are located next to where Haden is standing. He hasn’t noticed me yet, so I watch him from the corner of my eye.
He is laughing, and it’s only now I notice he isn’t wearing his glasses. He looks completely different, dressed in black shorts with a tight gray tank top that shows off his biceps. Oh, wow.
Okay, pep-talk time. Don’t you dare drool over a jerk who sweet-talked you into the alley and left you high and dry—or more appropriately—low and wet. You didn’t finish college to end up following a guy like a pathetic puppy dog. Yes, he is extremely good-looking. Yes, his hair looks like it belongs in a shampoo commercial, and yes, maybe his body is as irresistible as the new salted caramel sweets they keep showing on television.
I don’t know whether I’m hungry, horny, or need to buy new shampoo. One thing’s for sure, Mr. Smokin’ Hot beside him is walking my way.
“Hey, gorgeous girl from Friday night.”
His smile is endearing, and shyness overcomes me. Perhaps being covered in sweat without any makeup is a surefire way to lower my confidence.
“Hey, gorgeous guy from Friday night,” I repeat back.
“You train here?”
“I wouldn’t call it training. Just trying to let off some steam.”
“How have I not seen you here before?”
I shuffle awkwardly. “Okay, you busted me. Until last week, I was a gym virgin.”
He laughs softly. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”
“Presley.” I extend my hand, and he shakes it, lingering while he studies my face. His eyes are light green and brighten when he smiles. His dimples are set deep, and boy, is he cute. His jet-black hair is short, recently grown out from what I assume was a shaved head. He is also wearing a tank, and I have to stop my hands from reaching out to squeeze his arms.
“So, you know Haden from work?”
I nod and see Haden talking to some chick at the front with his eyes directly on me. His stare is penetrating, piercing me like a superhero trying to destroy his enemy. What the hell is his problem? He appears to be agitated; lips pressed flat with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His angered expression leaves me baffled, surely I should be the one angry after what he did.
Suddenly, I’m self-conscious. Then I realize I’m not the moron who left someone to die in a dark alley. Okay, maybe not die, but the Jerk infuriates me with his egotistical I-think-I’m-all-that persona.
Who in their mind leaves a woman mid-orgasm? An asshole, that’s who.
“How do you know him?” I focus back on Marcus.
“He’s my cousin. Our dads are brothers.” His tone softens, then, as if shaken, he smiles again and changes subjects.
Weird, but I don’t want to get into it. Cousins? Why is the universe punishing me. Marcus is so sexy, and he seems interested. What’s the worst that could happen? I tilt my head to the side, smiling at Marcus to show him I’m enjoying his company.
“So, any chance of grabbing a bite to eat sometime?”
My gaze is drawn to his lips, and unable to ignore his dimples which appeared every time he smiled. In some sort of trance, I try to string a sentence together. “I’d like that.”
Marcus passes me his phone, and I store my number. We talk for a few more minutes before he tells me he needs to leave for work. Saying goodbye, I make my way over to the lockers and grab my stuff to head to the change room. Confident that I have avoided Haden this morning, I shower and dress, then leave the gym to head into the office.
It’s Monday, and I drown myself in my work until our editors’ meeting in an hour. I don’t have anything to present today and am happy to listen to what other manuscripts will be put on the table, anything to take my mind off the weekend. Dee is standing up front, and as everyone enters the room, I take a seat at the furthest spot from Haden.
From across the room, he is staring at me again, making me feel even more self-conscious. Normally, one would think I had spinach in my teeth or a milk mustache with this much attention. What I would give to have a milk mustache right now. He’s probably thinking about how I got down on my knees and sucked him off.
Oh, dear God, another new memory.
My cheeks flush instantly, so I bow my head to avoid anyone noticing, my shoulders curling over my chest. I can blame many things for contributing to the night, but nothing will change the fact that I didn’t stop him.
Dee commences her presentation, introducing a new erotic male-on-male romance. The heterosexual men in the room cringe. Clive, our resident fairy, is all over it.
“Totally love it, Dee. There’s a demand for gay romance. Women love it.” Clive claps his hands in utter delight.
