Page 34 of Gym Bros
“Come on,” he says, dismissively.
“I don’t,” I say more firmly.
“Okay, well, you made me fucking cry, so…”
“Iwhat?”
He shakes his head and punches his code into the door lock. “Last chance for a picture.”
“Wait,” I say, scrambling. “Can I apologize? I never meant to offend you. I told you I’m still learning.”
“I get it. It’s fine.”
“Can we try again?” I ask.
He gives me a look over his shoulder, and I hold my breath. “Fine,” he says. “But why don’t we skip having you come up and I’ll just see you at the gym.”
“Okay,” I say, both disappointed and relieved. I’d like to redeem myself right now, but it looks like I’ll have to wait.
“Okay. Good night, Calyx.”
“Good night, Sam.”
6
SAMUEL
Calyx doesn’t smile at me or anything overt like that when I show up at the gym, but he does look sort of relieved. Hopeful. Or maybe I’m reading into it. I told him I’d give this another chance, but I didn’t know until about fifteen minutes ago whether I would actually show up tonight.
He seriously upset me the last time I was here. I wasn’t lying when I said I cried afterward because he made me feel stupid. Not like I sobbed myself to sleep, but a few tears of frustration were definitely shed. I spent the next two days getting to know Beauty and watching ESPN. I don’t know what the hell my mom was freaking out about, though. She texted three times and never seemed particularly worried.
I nod at Calyx. He nods back.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say quietly, letting him lead the way.
While I don’t trust the dude at all anymore, I can’t help but check him out while I’m walking behind him. I’ve been checking a lot more guys out lately ever since Evan popped my bisexual cherry, but none of them compare to Calyx. He’s wearingbasically the same thing as last time. Slim-cut gray joggers and Adidas slides. Tonight, though, instead of a t-shirt, he’s wearing a white tank with over-sized armholes. The kind that reveals chest and abs in certain positions.
Holding back his hair is a kind of headband or doo rag or something. Blue paisley.
He opens the door to the studio and lets me walk in first as usual. I glance at him as I pass, overly compelled by his face. This full view of it is truly something. He’s just so fucking pretty. I don’t know why that’s so shocking to me, but it keeps surprising me anyway.
“It’s good to see you,” he says unprompted.
“Thanks. Good to be back,” I lie.
“Fresh start, right?” he asks.
“Sure.”
He bites his lip and blinks a few times. “I appreciate it.”
My stomach tenses up because now the situation feels awkward, like he thinks I’m gonna be judging him the whole time. He’s not entirely wrong, but I’m determined to stick this out, whether he’s an asshole about it or not. “So, what’s the plan?” I ask.
“Sun Salutations.”
“Is that the kind of thing we should be doing in the dark?” I ask.
