by B. B. Hamel
“Morning.”
He let me inside his apartment and I looked around. I’d been there once before, but I hadn’t actually gotten to go inside. The place was clean, surprisingly clean for a place two jocks lived in. It was actually a pretty nice apartment, especially for college kids.
“Avery, this is Hynes.” His roommate was standing in the kitchen, making coffee. He yawned and nodded to me. “You guys met before I think.”
“Briefly,” I said. “Hi, Hynes.”
“Yo. Good to meet you.”
“Okay, where do you want to do this?”
I shrugged. “Right here is fine.”
He grinned. “You sure? Right in front of Hynes?” He looked back at his friend. “No offense, man, but I don’t think I can get it up with you watching.”
“Please,” he said. “You can’t get it up no matter what you do.”
“Nobody needs to get anything up,” I said quickly. “I just need you to take off your shirt.”
He smirked at me. “You’re sure Hynes can stay?”
I sighed. “Just sit on the couch.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He stripped his shirt off and then was wearing nothing but loose black workout shorts and his dark tattoos.
I tried not to stare at his ripped body as he sat down and I got out my equipment.
“First thing we’ll do is blood pressure.” I took out the cuff and wrapped it around his arm. I got out my stethoscope and put it on. “Ready?”
“Go ahead, nurse,” he said. “I’m all yours.”
Ignoring him, I tightened the cuff and listened to his heartbeat. I took my measurements and wrote down his blood pressure, which was unsurprisingly fantastic.
“Okay,” I said, taking it off him. He smirked at me the whole time, and I was having trouble being so close to him. It was so early in the morning, and yet I still found myself wanting to strip off the rest of his clothing.
“Checking me for a hernia next?” he asked.
“No. I just need your pulse.” I took his wrist and a shiver ran down my spine.
“You look like you’re enjoying this.”
“I’m just being professional.”
“I don’t know. I can see it on your face.”
I glanced in the kitchen, but Hynes was gone. I looked back at Gibson, at his intense, laughing eyes. “I’m trying to keep it strictly professional between us.”
He laughed. “Was that before or after I got you pregnant?”
“After, obviously. Now quit moving.”
I took his wrist and found his pulse. I counted the beats for fifteen seconds and then multiplied that by four to get his resting heart rate. I wrote down the number in my little chart.
“Okay, now just breathe normally,” I said, placing my stethoscope on his back.
“Hard to do that with you so close,” he said. “Did you feel my heart hammering?”
“You have a very normal resting heart rate. Please stop talking.”
“I’m sure it’s skipping like crazy with you touching me.”
“Quit talking so I can concentrate.”
“I’m sure you want to concentrate more on my body,” he said.
I sighed but got his respiration rate. I wrote that down and then pulled out a thermometer. “Under your tongue, in the back.”
He put it in his mouth, and mercifully that shut him up for a second. We waited until the thermometer beeped and then I wrote down the reading.
So far, he was above average in everything but temperature. Just as I had suspected, an athlete working at his level was in peak physical condition, even when he was just sitting around. Really, I didn’t need any numbers or anything to tell me that. I could see it just looking at him.
Finally, I got out my measuring tape. He raised an eyebrow at it.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
“I want to measure some of your prominent muscle groups.”
His grin spread across his face. “Are you sure that’s all you want to measure?” he asked. “I’ve got a few big places you might want to check out.”
“I’ll stick with your arms and chest, thanks.”
“Suit yourself.”
I took his arms and spread them out then wrapped the tape around his chest, getting his measurements. I tried to keep my face calm and my heart steady, but as soon as I touched his muscles, I couldn’t help but feel excited. He was just so intense and strong, so ripped and hard. I quickly measured both of his biceps and wrote the numbers down, trying not to linger too long.
I could tell he was enjoying this. He liked being studied by me, liked that I was touching him. He wasn’t hiding it at all.
“That’s it,” I said when I was done.
“Really? I was hoping for something a little more intense.”
“I’m trying to keep this simple.”
“I’d rather we went in-depth. Maybe something a little more physical.”
I was suddenly very aware of sitting so close to him on the couch. I put my stuff back into my bag and stood.
“Look, that was it. I’ll let you get going.”
He stood up and put his shirt back on. I wished he’d take it back off, but I didn’t say that out loud.
“How about you walk me to class?” he said. “Since you’re going that way anyway.”
“Sure,” I said, eager to get out of his apartment.
He walked back into his bedroom and grabbed his bag. “All right, lead the way.”
I left his place and went down the steps. He followed and we walked side by side toward campus.
It was a beautiful, crisp morning as we followed the path toward the stadium.
“What class do you have?” I asked.
“English lit,” he said. “You?”
“I have bio in an hour. I’m probably just going to hang out in the library.”
“Sounds good. You’re a big bio nerd, aren’t you?”
“I guess,” I said. “Are you an English lit nerd?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I don’t have much time to read.”
“Why is a finance major taking English lit anyway?”
“It’s my art requirement,” he answered, “but I actually like it a lot.”
“Oh yeah? I thought you didn’t have much time to read.”
“I don’t, but I make time for class. We’re reading a book by Virginia Woolf. Do you know her?”
I nodded. “I’ve heard of her, sure.”
“It’s really weird, like, hard to read, but it also makes a lot of sense. I don’t know. Hard to explain.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I get that.”
As we walked, I couldn’t believe I was talking to Gibson Evans about Virginia Woolf. He didn’t seem like a stupid jock, but it was hard not to have that sort of stereotype about football players.
“What made you want to go into bio?” he asked me.
“I don’t know. I’ve always been into science, and I guess I feel like we don’t know as much about the human body as we should.”
“What don’t we know?”
“We don’t know what a healthy diet actually is. There’s all this disagreement about it.”
“Huh. Interesting.”
“Yeah, I mean, and a bunch of other stuff. I don’t want to bore you.”
“You don’t bore me.” He grinned. “I could teach you a few things about the human body.”
“I bet you could.”
We moved down the path and reached the stadium. Across a small grass field with walking paths along either side was a reflecting pool and the library.
“I’m this way,” he said, nodding to the left and away from the library.
“Okay. I’ll see you later?”
He nodded. “Yeah, you will.”
I watched as he turned and left. I wanted to say something else, but I couldn’t think of exactly what it was. I stood there for a second, thinking about the way his skin felt, the way he looked at me.
A thrill ran th
rough my body. It was a dangerous feeling, the sort of feeling that could make me do something stupid.
He made me feel that way when he looked at me with those intense eyes. He made me feel like stupid things were possible.
I shook my head and went off to the library. Maybe I could distract myself with work, but I doubted it. I was going to have to do this twice a day for the rest of the semester.
Gibson and his body were going to become a serious part of my semester, if not my life.
13
Gibson
I kept thinking about the way Avery’s hands felt on my skin. I wanted to grab her hair and pull her against me, take that little pussy the way I wanted it. But I knew she was tentative, worried about complicating our already complicated relationship.
I wasn’t fucking worried about it. All I knew was that I had to take care of her and that I wanted her. I wasn’t worried about anything else.
The day flew by. Class was always a drag, but it was even worse because all I could think about was Avery. All I wanted to do was get out of the classroom and let Avery take every single measurement she could imagine.
But eventually class was over. I had a short break before practice, just enough time to hustle back to the apartment, grab something to eat, and then run over to the practice fields.
As I made my way back, I felt the phone in my pocket vibrating. I smirked to myself, assuming it was going to be Avery. Instead, it was a number I didn’t recognize.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Gibson, kid, how are you?”
I slowed my walking pace. It was Vin, the mafia guy from the other day. “I’m good. How are you?”
“Fine, kid, fine. Listen, I just wanted to talk to you about our deal.”
“I’m glad you called.”
“Are you? Good, good. Listen, I just want to make sure we’re good for this weekend.”
“We’re good, just like you requested.”
“Wonderful.”
“How will you give me what I need when we’re done?”
“I’ll send a guy over to campus. Don’t you worry about that. We don’t fuck around with that sort of thing.”
“You can’t send him to my place.”
“Don’t worry, kid. We’re very discreet. I appreciate the position you’re in.”
“But listen, what happens if I don’t deliver?”
There was a pause. “That would be bad, kid.”
“You know I don’t have control over the whole game, right?”
“Of course not.”
“I’m going to make it happen on my end, but what if something unforeseen occurs?”
“Listen, kid, nothing unforeseen will occur. Got it? You just do your thing and don’t worry about anything else.”
I clenched my jaw. “Fine,” I said.
“Good on you, kid. We’ll be rooting for you, for half the game at least.” He laughed and then hung up the phone.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket. I hated that he kept calling me a kid, hated his cocky fucking laugh. But I needed them. It had been my choice to reach out to the mafia; they hadn’t come to me.
On a whim, I pulled my phone out and dialed Avery’s number. It rang twice, and she answered just as I decided what I was going to say to her.
“Gibson?” she answered. “Hey.”
“Want to get one of those extra sessions in?”
“Excuse me?”
“You mentioned wanting to study me more seriously. Meet me tonight at the health center at ten.”
“Doesn’t it close at nine thirty?”
“I have a key. Meet me there. We can do your study.”
She paused. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll be there. I can do my measurements then.”
“Perfect. See you later.” I hung up and put my phone away.
I didn’t exactly know what I was doing, but it didn’t matter. I was sure that I wanted this girl, and if doing this would help her, well, fuck, I might as well.
I hurried home, running a little behind. I was going to have to bust my ass to get to practice on time.
Hours later, the night was cool and campus was mostly empty as I headed over toward the health center.
The place closed at nine thirty, but a friend of mine worked there and had given me a key to the back door. Back when I was a freshman, I used to sneak into the center and get extra workouts in. Back then I had to work pretty damn hard to win my starting position.
I still had to work hard. I couldn’t just coast through this stuff. But I didn’t have to bust my ass on after-hours workouts anymore, fortunately.
Standing near the front door was Avery. She was wearing a gray sweatshirt and her tight black jeans, her bag slung over her back. I smirked as I came over to her.
“Hey,” I said. “You’re early.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She frowned, looking around. “Are we supposed to be going in here?”
“Nope,” I said. “Follow me.”
“Hey, wait a second.” I didn’t listen, though. I just walked off, skirting along the path until I got to an unmarked door on the side of the building. I slipped the key from my pocket and unlocked the door, opening it up.
She frowned as I held it open for her.
“We can get in trouble, Gibson.”
I laughed. “Grow a spine and get in there.”
She sighed. “I’m not a big football star like you. The university will kick me out.”
“No, they won’t. Don’t you want your data?”
She nodded, took a deep breath, and then walked inside. I followed her, smirking the whole time. I loved that I was pushing her boundaries, making her do something she wouldn’t normally do. There was no way she was going to get in trouble for this anyway. I’d done this a thousand times without ever being caught.
“So, what do you want to see? Want me to lift some weights, get nice and ripped?”
“Just a treadmill,” she said.
“Come on, nothing more fun? Medicine balls? Kettle bells?”
“Treadmill.”
“Fine.” I turned right down a hall and headed into a large, dark room. I hit a power switch and the place lit up. There was row after row of treadmills and televisions in both corners.
“Welcome,” I said, “to running nirvana.”
“Great. Get your ass up there.”
I laughed. “Getting pushy? I like it.”
“I just don’t want to get caught.”
I walked over to the closest treadmill and turned it on. I took off my top layer so that I was in only a white T-shirt and my gym shorts. Avery dropped her bag next to me and began to root through it.
“Okay,” she said, taking a little device out. “I got this beauty from the lab I used to work in.”
“What is it? It looks like an octopus.”
“It’s a Holter monitor, basically. It’ll monitor your heart and all that good stuff. Take your shirt off.”
“You’re always asking me to strip. I like it, but it’d be nice if you would return the favor.”
She did not look amused. I pulled my shirt off and tossed it aside.
“Stay still.” She began to attach the device to my chest, putting little sticky electrodes on my skin, and then finally clipped a battery pack thing to my shorts.
“Oh good. This feels really natural,” I joked.
“Get to running.” She grinned at me.
“Okay then.” I turned the treadmill on. “How fast?”
“Not too fast. Just enough to get your breath going.”
I started to jog. I didn’t push it and went at a medium pace, just enough to get my heart pumping and my breath coming in faster.
Meanwhile, Avery pulled her laptop out. She turned it on and started clicking and typing as I ran. I eyed her, curious about what she was doing, but I didn’t push. I figured this was her shit and I was just her lab rat.
“Okay, you’re looking good,” she said.
“No kidding.”
<
br /> “Are you going to make jokes about everything I say?”
“Yes,” I answered seriously.
“Fine. Go faster.”
“You just want to see me sweat.”
“Yeah, I do, but not for the reason you want.”
I laughed and turned the machine up, going faster. I could feel it now, and I felt good. I loved pushing my body to its limit, loved exerting myself and seeing how hard I could push. I loved that feeling of going beyond what I had thought was possible before.
Avery alternated between watching me and watching her laptop screen. She wasn’t taking any other measurements, but she would click and type something periodically. I was on the treadmill for about twenty minutes before she finally told me to cut it off.
I slowed it down to a walk as I cooled off. I was sweating, my white T-shirt clinging to my body. I grinned at her.
“Did I pass the test?” I asked her.
“With flying colors.” She smiled at me. “Some really cool data on here.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Heart rate, beats per minute, that sort of stuff. Next time we do this, I want to try making you run inclines, mix it up, see how your body reacts.”
“If you want to see my body react, all you need to do is come over here and take those clothes off.”
Finally, she smiled and laughed a little bit at one of my jokes. Apparently all it took was a twenty-minute jog and a bunch of science data to make her happy.
She was totally unlike any other girl I’d ever experienced. I was used to cheerleaders and pep squad girls, the type of girl that knew my stats but only because my popularity got her off. Avery was not that girl at all. In fact, she was the total opposite.
Maybe that was what drew me toward her. She was completely unlike any girl I’d been with. Maybe that was what I’d been looking for. All it took was getting her pregnant to really start to figure that out.
I got off the treadmill finally and grabbed a towel from my bag, wiping off as Avery continued to type away. I walked around behind her and looked over her shoulder.
It was all numbers in a spreadsheet. I didn’t understand a bit of it, but she was typing and clicking away like it all made sense.
“You’re such a nerd,” I said finally.