Page 3 of It's All You

I glance down at the workout clothes I’m wearing. “You want to come?”

His lips quirk into that smile that always makes my heart flip over in my chest. “Gotta make sure you still know what you’re doing.”

I don’t bother with a snarky comeback. When it comes to anything gym-related, Beau’s got me beat, hands down. I wasn’t a complete nerd in high school—I was decent at track. But Beau was captain of the football team.

The gym I go to is downstairs in the same building. It’s not fancy, but it’s got all the standard machines and equipment. I can see Beau scoping the place out the second we step inside the door, assessing everything from the layout of the gym to the quality of their towels to their client-to-staff ratio.

“Up to par?” I ask.

“Hmm? Oh.” He gives me a sheepish smile. “Yeah, it’s fine. I just...” He glances around the gym again. “I’ve been toying with the idea of starting my own place. It’s just a daydream, though. Nothing serious.”

Nothing serious. Except now that he’s mentioned it, I can totally see him doing it. Putting clients through their paces, designing workout schedules and nutritional plans, debunking the latest gym fads for how to get ripped quick. He knows how to run a gym. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t have his own.

CHAPTER FOUR

BEAU

Gavin still knows what he’s doing in the gym. He always has, even though I’m technically the dumb jock of the pair. But then, Gavin’s always been good at everything he does. Smart. Kind. Generous. He’s got his shit together in a way I’ve never been able to match.

We take turns spotting each other on the bench press and during squats. Gavin’s got the type of body that doesn’t look like much when he’s relaxed, but the second he starts flexing, the guns come out to play. His forearms are a mosaic of all those little muscles, his biceps are round without bulging. His pecs are well-defined and his abs are flat. His glutes, quads, and calves don’t look like they belong to a guy who sits at a desk for twelve hours a day.

He's lost weight since the last time I saw him in person. It’s obvious now without a winter coat and suit to cover it up.

“Work’s been busy?” I ask as we finish our stretches and head to the locker room.

He sighs and I can feel the weariness in my own bones. “Yeah, there’s a big IPO at the end of the month and we’ve been working non-stop since before Christmas.”

Which explains why he didn’t come home for the holidays this past December. “End of the month is a couple weeks away. Should be over soon, right?”

Gavin’s smile looks more defeated than anything else. “Yeah, and then it’s on to the next client.” He wraps a towel around his waist before reaching under it to tug his shorts off.

Meanwhile, I’m already buck naked with my towel slung over my shoulder. Since when did he get all shy about nudity in the locker room? There’s no one else in here besides us and I’ve seen his junk more times than I can count.

The shower room is one of those open free-for-alls without any stalls. He unwraps his towel from around his waist and hangs it up, then turns the water on, waiting for it to warm up before stepping underneath. His back is to me the entire time and I can’t tell if I’m reading too much into it or if he’s trying to hide himself from me.

Did something happen to his dick? Did it get cut off? Did he get it tattooed?

“Dude, what the hell?”

Gavin’s glance over his shoulder is so quick I doubt he even saw anything. “What?”

“Why are you acting weird?”

His shoulders tense. “I’m not acting weird. I’m taking a shower.”

He’s totally acting weird. He won’t look at me. He won’t face me. Somehow he manages to soap up, rinse off, shampoo and condition his hair all without turning in my direction even once. It’s not like Iwantto see his dick, but it’s a normal part of being in a locker room. Gavin acting all cagey only makes me itch to yank his towel away and see what’s up.

I don’t, though. Because I’m not a jerk. But I do eye him all the way to the lockers again and while we change into our street clothes. He keeps his back to me the entire time, only letting up once he’s fully dressed. He shoots a glance in my direction, then snaps his gaze away when he realizes I’m still wearing nothing but the towel.

“What’s taking you so long?”

I shrug and sit down on the bench, spreading my knees so wide that the cinch in the towel slips off and the two ends fall in between my thighs. “Nothing. I’m not in a rush to get anywhere.”

His movements are jerky as he shoves his stuff into his gym bag. “Well, I am. I’ve got to get to work. You have the apartment key, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it. What time will you be home?”

It takes a split second for him to answer and when he does, his voice is tight. “I don’t know. Don’t wait up.” He practically runs out of the locker room.

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