turned out, I needed something else to work me into exhaustion so I could actually get some fucking sleep. I’d lifted weights so incessantly in the joint, I thought I’d never want to see a squat rack again.
But the routine of it was calming. And if I worked out hard enough, I’d pass out into a dreamless sleep that night.
And I could really go for a dreamless sleep tonight.
“Hey, Jazz,” Tex said as he descended the stairs into the basement. “Sorry I’m late. It looks good down here, man, you’ve done some serious work.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, it’s a lot more usable now.”
Tex whipped his towel around his neck. I was beginning to think maybe it was a bad idea to ask him to spot me so I could lift a little heavier. His tight white t-shirt was see-through enough as it was, and once he started sweating, it would only get worse. He was wearing a ratty, too-small pair of sweatpants—he wasn’t big on working out—and they were annoyingly tight, tight enough that I had to force myself to look away from the curve of his ass and the bulge of his cock.
He took off his hat and hung it off the squat rack like he did this all the time. That thing was really getting beat up. I had a plan for that, though—I just wasn’t sure when to enact it. The timing never seemed quite right.
Tex scrubbed his hand over his short red hair, and then shot me a companionable smile.
That smile made heat twist in my gut.
Yeah. This was a bad idea. But not bad enough for me to want to back out.
I’d already been lifting for the better part of an hour before he showed up—I’d finished the bulk of my lifts, but my heaviest reps were getting to the point where I wasn’t quite comfortable doing them without a spotter. I loaded weight on the bar for my heaviest rep. Likely I’d only be able to do one at this weight—but one now would lead to two next time. And so on. I loved the difficulty of lifting, but also the predictability.
“Goddamn.” Tex widened his eyes at the amount. “That’s really where you’re working?”
I shrugged. “Not much else to do in jail.”
“Guess not,” Tex said, voice low and maybe a little impressed.
“All right,” I said as I got under the bar. I lifted it off the rack and stepped back. “Watch me here.”
Tex stepped close—very close.
Closer than I expected.
His hands hovered beneath my arms, just by my ribcage, close enough that if I took a step to either side his hand would be flat on me. I hardly felt the bar digging into my shoulders.
“Got you.” His low Southern accent was smooth as honey in my ear.
Fuck. My knees already wobbled, and I hadn’t even done a single rep. I’d have to at least get one in to make this whole endeavor worth it. As I sat back, Tex’s hands traveled down as well. I could feel the heat of his body at my back, just inches away, ready to pitch forward and catch the bar if I began to slump forward under the weight.
“You got it,” he growled. “Come on.”
My legs shuddered with the effort, and Tex must’ve noticed, because somehow he got closer, but still wasn’t touching. Part of me wanted to bail on the lift just to feel his hands on me.
I groaned with the effort, the burn running from my ankles all the way to my shoulders as I heaved myself back to standing. I stumbled forward and slammed the bar back onto the rack. Sweat beaded on my forehead and neck, and I was shaky with the exertion.
“Nice!” Tex said. “Gonna get another rep in?”
I turned around and leaned my back against the bar. Tex had a little bit of a flush in his cheeks, even though I was the one doing the work. He always blushed easily—came with being a redhead.
I shook my head. “Hell no. Barely made that one.”
“Selling yourself short. You made it look easy.” His sharp green eyes traveled down the length of my body. “You’re strong these days.”
I huffed a laugh and had to look away. Despite the exhaustion in my muscles, his gaze always lit a fire deep inside me. “Nah, that’s it for me. I just gotta stretch out a little. I don’t want to be too tired when I meet up with the kid later.”
“Another lesson for Heath today?” Tex asked. “He’s