Page 1 of Jacked
CHAPTER ONE
SLATER
Sweat beadson the back of my neck and trickles down to pool between my shoulder blades, adding to the stickiness of my already drenched shirt against my skin. I pull my hat off and drag my fingers through my hair, shaking a few more droplets of sweat loose before shoving it back onto my head. Squinting against the sun, I look up at the brick building towering a few feet in front of me.
The ground floor is a bar with a neon Budweiser sign in one window and a rainbow flag hanging in the other. That’s cool. I might be straight, but my brother is gay and so is my best friend, so I like seeing places be inclusive and shit. I wrinkle my nose at the reminder that the two of them are boning each other now. More power to them, but it’s definitely not something I want to think too hard about.
I shake my head and sweat rolls down my forehead to burn my eyes. I thought Chicago was supposed to be cooler than California. It fucking figures that it would be a-hundred-and-fuck degrees the weekend I’m moving all my shit in.
I use my hand to block out the sun as I try to figure out where the entrance is for the apartments upstairs. A couple of guys shuffle past me on the sidewalk, both absolutely jacked, wearing tank tops and athletic shorts. I follow them with my eyes, appreciating the bulge of their muscles glistening with sweat. I should ask where they work out. I’m going to need to find a gym in this neighborhood sooner rather than later if I want to keep up my gains. Hell, looking at them I’m feeling a little puny; maybe I should get a little more serious about my workouts. One of them makes eye contact and I up-nod him.
“You know, that brim on your hat actually works great for keeping the sun out of your eyes,” he says, and his friend barks out a laugh that feels a little like they’re laughingatme.
The brim…? I feel the back of my hat and realize what he’s saying. I chuckle right along with them and shoot him a thumbs-up with one hand while I flip my hat around, immediately blocking some of the sun from my eyes.
“Thanks, bro,” I call. He was right, it’s much easier to get my bearings without the sun blinding me. Nice guy.
Just doing a quick glance around, it looks like this neighborhood is heavily dude-centric. Everywhere I look it’s mainly guys on the sidewalks and coming in and out of the restaurants and bars. Not that there arenowomen, but the numbers are heavily skewed towards sausage fest. Where do all the babes hang out in this city? I’m not looking to jump right back into the dating pool after the last disaster, but it would be good to know. Not that I don’t enjoy some quality guy time. There’s nothing like bro-ing out with a chill group of dudes.
I pull my shirt up to wipe some of the sweat off of my face and someone whistles. I drop my shirt again and notice a guy exiting the bar with a thick beard and a broad chest giving me a once-over. There must be some really killer gyms around here with all the ripped dudes strutting around. Is he the one who whistled? Imean, I don’t swing that way, but I’ll take the compliment. I give him a smile of thanks and decide I’m not going to get anywhere standing around thinking about the social opportunities and gyms in this city. The door to the apartments must be around here somewhere, right?
I leave the moving truck full of my shit parked in front of the bar and head around the corner. More businesses, more apartments, and a hell of a lot more rainbow flags line the next street. There’s a metal sign that looks kind of like a bike rack with the word Boystown cut out.
Huh, I thought this was Northalstead. Am I in the wrong neighborhood? I scratch my head, dislodging my baseball cap again. I pull out my phone with my other hand to double-check the address, but it looks right. It was my brother, Cas, who hooked me up with this apartment, rooming with a friend of a friend of his, so I give him a call.
“What up, bro?” He answers on the second ring, as sunny as ever. I can’t help but grin at the sound of his voice.
“Hey, what’s Boystown? Am I in the right place?” He went to college out here, so he knows the city well, even though he lives in Portland now with my best friend, Nolan.Not going to think about them boning.
Caspian snickers and I hear No’s voice in the background. “You’re such a shit. You didn’t warn him, did you?”
My brother laughs a little more and my eyebrows pull together. I’m getting that butt-of-the-joke feeling again, but I smile through it even though I know they can’t see me. There was a time when it was Nolan and me pulling pranks and laughing at Caspian’s confusion. When the hell did I end up the odd man out? Oh right, it was when they started touching dicks or whatever it is they get up to. Ugh, stop, no mental images. That’s my brother, for fuck’s sake.
“Dude, what? Come on, just tell me if I’m in the right place.”
“You’re in the right place,” Caspian finally says.
“But I thought the apartment was in Northalstead?” I rub the back of my neck then wipe the sweat that collects on my palm onto my shorts.
I hear more laughter and what sounds like a scuffle, then Nolan’s voice fills the phone.
“Your brother is an ass. You’re in the right place,” he assures me. “How was the drive?”
“It was sick,” I say cheerfully. “I stopped at all of those dumb-ass tourist traps along the way and ate at some very questionable diners. Met some truckers at one of them and played poker for like an hour at one in the morning.” I grin. “Would have been cool to have my copilot with me, but it was more fun than I expected it to be on my own.”
Nolan chuckles. “Leave it to you to find the fun in making a thirty-plus hour drive across the country alone.”
I shrug even though, again, I know he can’t see me. “Could be worse, bro.” I lift my hand to adjust my hat again, catching a whiff of myself in the process. “I need a shower like a motherfucker though after four days on the road. But first I need to figure out how to get into my apartment. Then, I need to haul all my shit inside and return the rental truck before I get charged for an extra day.” Just as I’m saying it, a door with a row of apartment buzzers next to it comes into view. “Halle-fucking-lujah,” I mutter. “Let me call you back later, man.”
“Sure. Catch you later.”
We hang up and I jog up to the door. Hopefully my new roomie is home since I don’t have my own keys yet. I scratch my chin and stare at the apartment numbers listed on the buzzer panel, trying to remember which one it’s supposed to be. If Caspian is already laughing at me, I’m not about to call him back and ask. Maybe I wrote it down somewhere? I already know I didn’t, but I pull my phone back out anyway just to check.
While I’m scrolling through the emails I exchanged with my new roommate, AJ, the door swings open and two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle slams into me.
“Oomph.” I grunt, fumbling my phone. It clatters to the ground between my feet, face down.
“Shit. Sorry, bro.”
