Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,37

is technically a more prestigious competition, I sense there are fewer people in the audience. Maybe it’s the newbies starting out who have the most support from friends and family. At this point in many careers, maybe it’s gotten old.

The dedication required makes it easy to lose friends who don’t understand this way of life. My brothers already tease the hell out of me about not drinking anymore. I didn’t even eat cake at my nephew’s first birthday. Sugar is a beast, and even one slip-up can send you spiraling into a carb crisis that’s impossible to resist.

I finish up and take my spot in the back, near the far left of the stage. Probably the worst position I could be in.

But I wait, staying semi-flexed as the other men do their routines.

When we all move into a line for comparisons, I figure the callouts will tell me what I need to know about how I’m doing.

But the judges don’t send people to the back. They keep rearranging us, asking for pose after pose. Side triceps. Side chest. Front lat spread.

I’m never placed next to the monstrous men, so I figure I’m not in the running against them.

When we leave the stage, I have the sense of, well, that was fun. There are competitions I can do, open contests where they allow former winners to compete with the ones starting out.

But who knows? Maybe I’m done. I can support Franklin’s efforts without exerting my own.

Been there, had a good time.

I’m super glad I didn’t sign with any sponsors. They might have required me to do more competitions than I’d like.

Dodged a bullet.

When I get back to the hall where we all sit and wait, I spot Dahlia.

She sees me at about the same time, and even though she’ll probably be flirtier than I want to deal with, she’s a friendly face.

“It’s the man candy from two weeks ago,” she purrs. “Did you already go on, darling?”

Man, this woman is tall. She meets me eye-to-eye in her heels. She’s switched out her shiny gold bikini for red satin.

“Yeah, I think I probably maxed out my ability to impress the judges, but it was fun,” I say. “Have you already seen Camryn?”

“Heading her way. Maybe I’ll talk to you later?”

“Sure. Good luck.”

She gives me a wink with spidery false eyelashes and heads down another hall. I’m tempted to follow at a distance, just to get a glimpse of Camryn.

But I don’t. I can wait my turn. I head back to my space with my weights, my duffel bag, and my warm-ups stacked on top.

I slide on my sweats and pick up a couple of rice cakes, then set them back down again, unwilling to eat them in my already dehydrated state. They’ll go down like sidewalk chalk.

I’ll hold out for Camryn and chocolate.

Time seems to stand still. The physique classes approach the registration desk to get their pins. I envy them in their long board shorts. That’s loose enough to hide a Camryn-level sin, unlike my tiny trunks.

I check my phone. It’s been forty minutes since I ran into Dahlia. I feel jealous of the time, worried I won’t get to see her after all.

But then Camryn enters the room, a tiny figure against the backdrop of the muscled crowd.

I jump to my feet and wave as she hurries forward.

“I’m sorry it took so long. Dahlia had a lot of issues for us to manage. Cleavage shadow doesn’t draw itself.”

I’m not sure I should, but I lean forward and place a soft kiss on her lips. I haven’t forgotten our morning encounter and hope this can be our new normal.

She responds lightly, squeezing my arm as she pulls away. “How did it go this morning?”

“I’m outclassed. I have a feeling this is going to be the end of my rise to the top.”

“You sure? Because I talked to some people who watched the heavyweights, and they said you had the best stage presence, even if a couple of them were more developed.”

I shrug. “I think the muscles are going to matter a lot.”

“I’ll be able to tell you more after watching the evening show. Remember big isn’t always better if there isn’t symmetry.”

We sit back down in my spot. I feel completely different with Camryn kneeling next to me. On top of the world.

I pull a small insulated cooler from inside my bag. “I packed the bread separate from the inside of your sandwich so it wouldn’t get soggy.”

“Brilliant.” She accepts the