Page 3 of Official

Sighing, I enter my home through the front door and lock it behind me. My first stop is the kitchen for a protein shake, which I drink on my way to the bathroom. Inside the white-tiled shoebox, I grimace over my sticky skin and turn the hot water on. As the room fills with steam in a sauna-like fashion, I peel my sweat-drenched clothes off, wincing with every lift of my finger.

My workout was killer, and I can’t freaking wait to post about it.

I mentally sift through the different versions and captions I can use as I scrub my skin clean, the smell of eucalyptus mint soap soothing my body as much as it does my senses.

Afterward, I wrap my robe around me on the way to the couch, where I tuck my feet under me, turn on music through my Bluetooth speaker, and pull up the video from today.

But five seconds in, I realize I can’t use this and groan. “What in the actual hell?” I mumble to the empty space as I fast-forward through the entire video.

Yep. The whole thing is useless.

I’m wearing my new purple leggings, and they are definitelynotsquat proof.

Shit, shit, shit.

Apparel companies constantly send me stuff to try on and promote for them on my platform. I’m grateful they trust me to advertise their products, but I always try them on first in the comfort of my own home in order to avoid what’s happening in this video.

My ass is on display every time I even take a step, let alone squat, because these leggings are super thin and transparent. My damn leopard thong is as visible as it would be had I walked in there without pants on at all.

Maybe it’s notthatbad, but it’s… bad.

I knew better. I fucking knew better than this.

I would’ve given them a test run before I left this morning had Jason not come over in a rush, claiming we had to get to the gym because he already took his pre-workout and needed to hurry.

Muttering to myself, I open my Instagram app and check my drafts for any fitting content to post today. Yesterday’s post was a selfie, and the day before that was a quick reel of me in my new #GymBae merchandise.

A leg workout would’ve been perfect to share right now.

I go back and click the video from today—the one with my leopard thong on display—to see if any of it is salvageable. I scroll to the second clip and focus what energy I have left on manifesting a post-worthy version of it. I’d accept a frame I can at least screenshot at this point, but it’s no use.

A knock on the front door jolts me upright, and I practically jump out of my skin.

As I stand, I drop my phone on the floor and scramble to pick it up when there’s a second knock. My brother’s voice rings out, “Sam, open up. It’s me.”

I set my phone on the coffee table with a thud, rush toward the door, and swing it open. Teddy leans on the doorframe, his hair sticking out to one side like he ran his hand through it repeatedly right before he arrived on my doorstep.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Hello to you too.” He smirks, brushing past me and into my condo. “Got anything to eat? And I mean real food. None of that organic vegetable shit you try to claim isas yummy as it isnutritious.”

“First of all, I haven’t used the wordyummysince I was five, and second of all, myshitis nutritious.” I close the door and follow him past the entryway table toward the kitchen. “Third of all, why don’t we just go out to eat? I can get a salad.”

“Or burgers. When was the last time you had one of those?”

“Two weeks ago for my cheat meal.” I stick my tongue out at him and toss my hair over my shoulder. “Besides, you eat enough burgers for the both of us.”

“Ouch.” He spreads his arms wide, then searches through my cabinets and makes gagging noises.

I like to tease him, but the truth is, he’s more ripped than many of the guys who train at Gold’s Gym. Even Jason would kill for my brother’s biceps.

“Fuck.” Teddy slams the last cabinet shut. “Okay, let’s go out to eat, but Jason is not invited.”

I cross my arms in front of me and tilt my head to the side. “Why not?”

“Sam, seriously, that dude sucks. I figured you would’ve dumped his ass already.”

“He’s not after my followers. I thought we proved as much since he hasn’t mentioned online that he and I even know each other, let alone that we’re dating.”

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