Page 19 of Gym Bros
“Are you saying you haven’t fucked anyone since you’ve been in San Francisco?”
“What can I say? The women I train with aren’t exactly my type, and they’re the only ones I’ve met here.”
“What’s not your type?” he asks.
“People who don’t mind spitting blood?”
Evan laughs. “Strong women turn you off?”
“I don’t mind a strong will, but half of them could probably kick my ass, and the other half—well, I’m pretty sure I’m not their type either.”
“Maybe the ones who spit blood wouldn’t care so much about what they look like when they’re fucking you then.”
I wince at that particular visual. “I guess my type is more feminine,” I say.
Evan glances down at his phone, then back up at me. “Do you think Calyx is attractive?”
I shrug.
“You don’t know, or you don’t wanna say?”
“I don’t knowwhatto say,” I tell him.
“It’s a yes or no question.”
“I just met him.”
“And? I thoughtyouwere attractive when I met you. Not when you were fourteen—but likehere,” he says with a clarifying hand gesture indicating San Francisco.
I give him a side-eye. “Yes,” I say. “I do think he’s attractive, and no, I’ve never said those words out loud before about a man.”
“So…maybe you’re not all the way straight?”
“I’ve honestly never really thought about it.”
“Dude. We were on the wrestling team.” He gives me an all-too-knowing look.
It’s not like we all talked about it in the locker room, but I felt more than my fair share of hard-ons while grappling when I wasa teenager. Sure, I popped a few myself. It’s a lot of friction for a young man to handle.
With all those memories in my head and an image of Calyx in that Speedo,thisboner might actually kill me. I press the pillow harder onto it. “I’m horny. So what? I’ve gotten turned on by watching animals mate on nature videos.”
His laugh bursts in my apartment, and I laugh, too, but not quite as vigorously. “Have you tried Tinder?” he asks.
“Ugh. No. That shit’s not me.”
“Oh, are you a relationship guy?”
“No. I don’t know.” Tinder seems really—adult. I get that I’m technically an adult, but I’d still have to use a fake ID to get into a bar. “I don’t think I’ve aged into Tinder yet.”
“Oh my God. Sweet baby.” He puts a hand on my knee. “You should let me help you.”
My eyes widen, and I hug the pillow more protectively. “Do what?”
“Well, I could take you to a bar—or I could…” He gestures to the pillow. “Helpyou.”
“No! We’refriends.”
He sighs and gives me an exhausted look. “I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m just saying I’ll suck your dick. Unless you’ve got something better to do with it.”
