Page 20 of Reluctantly You

I snort as I start to lift the weights, making sure to count as I go, but it’s hard when Emery continues to chatter at me. I should stop him, but then again, part of me doesn’t want to. I don’t know why. A week ago I wouldn’t be caught dead talking to someone like him. Someonegay. But now… Well, I guess now I’ll allow it.

“He still doesn’t know I’m coming to the gym. He thinks I’m taking a college class. He’s so pretty,” Emery sighs with a dopey grin on his face. He sips at his drink and then says, “So, tell me the truth. How do you get muscles that big? Do you like, eat plain chicken for every meal? Or like, drink something magical?” He leans forward and whispers loudly, “Do you take the ’roids?”

I peer over at him. “Fuck no.”

“Oh, so it’s genetic then? God, you’re lucky.”

Truth is, I don’t know who my bio dad is. So who the fuck knows where I got it from? I don’t say that though. I’m not pouring my heart out to this guy. I bet he’d spill every secret I gave him, not even realizing as he did it.

“You could be bigger too if you actually work out instead of just sitting there and drinking sugar.”

He chuckles and then stands up. “I do love sugar, it’s my love language, but I’m diabetic, so I really need to watch it. So, since you’re talking to me, does that mean you’ll help me with this then?”

“No.”

He sighs and then bats his eyelashes at me. “Please.”

“Fuck off,” I say, but my resolve is cracking.

I blame the cat. First the rodent, then Emery.

What the fuck is next?

I don’t even want to know.

“Fine,” I relent. “Just this once. And you have to pay attention?—”

“I’m really bad at that,” he admits. “Like really bad. I will just disappoint you. It’s better to have low expectations. Or none at all.”

I eye him and then hold out a set of weights. He places his smoothie down on the ground and grabs on to them. They immediately fall toward the ground, and he gasps.

“Oh my god, these must be like thirty pounds. I can’t lift these.”

“They’re five pounds, Emery.”

His eyes widen and I use my weights to show him how to work his biceps. He struggles through two reps and then sags onto the bench, sipping at his smoothie aggressively.

“I need water.”

“There’s some over there.”

I point toward a large water container with cups next to it. He walks over and fills a cup up, his hands trembling as he drinks.

“I think I’m broken! My arms are shaking!” he shouts at me, and I pretend to ignore him.

Fuck. Why did I engage? Why did I offer to help?

It’s the kitten in my house, and Gideon. And my dad and my mom, and everything, really. I’m not sane. I’ve lost my fucking mind.

I don’t really know, but now I’m stuck with him. He won’t leave me alone. So now I’m left showing him a few more weight lifts until he flops down on the floor and places an arm over his eyes.

“I’m dead. I won’t even be able to jack off after this. My arms are like overcooked spaghetti noodles. And no one likes that. Although, I do tend to overcook my noodles…”

I stare down at him, my ears not quite sure what they’re hearing, before stalking off into the locker room. I don’t have time to worry about him, or listen to him ramble. I have otherthings I need to be doing. Like avoiding Gideon and his Speedo-covered ass.

But the world is against me. Because he’s suddenly standing on the other side of the locker room, completely naked, rubbing at his wet hair with a towel.

Everything within me freezes, and I find myself standing there, staring. That round ass. That big, fat dick.

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