corner and strolled toward the gym’s front doors, our steps gradually slowed to a stop; each of us was staring through the window, transfixed.
My first response was a spike of annoyance—I couldn’t seem to get away from this jerk!—but it was soon replaced with a grudging appreciation.
Only a small part of the gym was visible through the front window, the neat rows of machines disappearing around the corner. Hendrix was on a machine close to the glass, sitting on a bench with his knees spread wide, his arms pulling down on some weighted contraption. He was shirtless and so sweaty he was fucking glistening. It seemed as if half the muscles in his body danced under his skin at every movement.
“Wow,” Harlow breathed, sucking the dregs of her drink with an obnoxiously loud slurp.
“I have a boyfriend, and even I can’t look away.” Mena tilted her head to the side, eyes glued to the show.
“You’re only human.” Amaya shrugged. “But fuck me. Why is it always the assholes that look like that?”
“Is that a tattoo?” If I’d been with anyone other than my three best friends, I would’ve been embarrassed at how breathy my voice sounded. There was definitely some ink on the left side of his back, just under his shoulder blade, but we were too far away to make it out.
That didn’t stop us from leaning forward as one, our foreheads nearly touching the glass, as we tried to see what it was.
“You ladies wouldn’t be objectifying our newest member, would you?” A deep, masculine voice made us all jump. Mena even made a little squeaking sound in the back of her throat that had us all cracking up in embarrassed laughter.
Turner leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, smiling in amusement. We’d been so entranced by the frustrating guy on the other side of the glass we hadn’t even heard him walk up.
Mena was the first to recover. “You know I only have eyes for you,” she cooed, rising up on her tippy-toes to give him a kiss.
He glared at us all with a thin-lipped smile and shook his head. “You four are worse than the creeps who only pretend to do weights while they stare at the women on cross trainers.”
“We are not!” Harlow smacked him.
“We kinda are.” Amaya shrugged, taking another sip of her drink.
I took one last surreptitious glance at the window—to make sure Hendrix hadn’t spotted us, not to cop another eyeful, of course. Unfortunately . . . I mean, fortunately, he’d disappeared into the back of the gym.
Turner slung an arm around Mena’s shoulders. “Come on. I’ve only got another twenty minutes of my break, and I need to get something to eat.”
We said our goodbyes and left the lovebirds alone.
I hadn’t planned on going to Davey’s that night, but I was so agitated after I got home I couldn’t even focus on my homework. Harlow had changed into sweats, carried armfuls of junk food into her room, and parked herself in front of the computer, so she wouldn’t be noticing jack shit for the remainder of the night. My parents were home, but I figured if I left after midnight, they wouldn’t even notice. They’d both had long days at work, and their bedroom was on the opposite side of the house.
I just had to be extra cautious and make sure it was a short visit. Everyone would be home in the morning, so I’d have to skip sleeping in, but I could handle one day of sleep deprivation.
What I couldn’t handle was another week—another day, another hour—of this clawing, pressured feeling inside me.
My to-do list was growing instead of diminishing, no matter how hard I worked, and now I had the added problem of trying to figure out the Hendrix situation. I couldn’t let Mena down; I just had no idea how to fix it. Not to mention I was suddenly finding myself thinking about Hendrix’s sweaty muscles instead of focusing on how annoying and rude he was.
Black stiletto boots in hand, I tiptoed down the stairs and into the garage without making a sound. I didn’t stop listening and looking out for someone to bust me until I was at the end of the driveway and putting my headlights on.
The leather seat was cool on my bare back. I’d kept the all-black outfit simple—halter top and short, loose skirt. Heavy eye makeup, messy hair, and no panties.
I didn’t always fuck some random when I went to Davey’s, but