“What’s so bad about that?” I asked, trying to embrace my romantic side. “I met a guy that I thought was cute, and I’ve been thinking about him.”
“A straight guy,” Greg replied sarcastically, scolding me for being so ridiculous. “A straight guy with a girlfriend.”
“So?” I asked. “They’ve only been dating for two weeks; I don’t think it’s serious.”
“That’s not for you to decide,” Greg replied.
“Are you serious?” I asked, laughing at the nerve Greg had in lecturing me. “This is coming from a guy who has married clients coming in on a regular basis to watch you dance.”
“They’re not touching me!” he said in his defense, but we both knew that was a lie.
“Bullshit,” I said.
“Okay, okay,” he conceded, not wanting to talk about it further. “I guess I’m not the best person to lecture anyone. Still, my point remains that you’re not that kind of guy, so you need to figure out what’s going on with him and that pretty blonde girl who was on his arm.”
“She was pretty, wasn’t she?” I asked, biting my lower lip as I watched the steam rising off my cup of coffee.
She was a stunningly attractive girl, and I’m sure she knew that. I didn’t know what I thought my odds were, trying to seduce a straight man who already had a beautiful girl.
“She was cute,” Greg said, being slightly snarky. “Nothing special, but cute.”
“He didn’t seem too interested in her,” I said, raising my mug to my lips and taking a sip.
The coffee scalded my tongue, and I scolded myself for drinking it too quickly when it hadn’t cooled down. Placing it back on the kitchen counter, I turned to walk back into the living room and sit on the couch.
Looking around my place, I sighed as I realized that it was clearly time for an upgrade. I had been making great money at The Warehouse, but I had rented the apartment before knowing how much I’d make. I didn’t want to live in the lap of luxury, but I definitely wanted to expand my living space.
“How do you know?” Greg asked, pulling my attention back toward the conversation.
“How do I know what?”
“You said Clint didn’t seem interested in her,” he said, reminding me of what we were talking about. “How do you know that?”
“It was just a vibe I got from him,” I answered, desperately wanting to change the subject. “Are you going to the gym today?”
“No, no, no,” he said, verbally shaking his finger at me. “You’re not changing the subject that quickly. Why do you say he’s not interested in her?”
“He just didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about her, that’s all.”
“Right,” Greg said with a careless laugh, “that’s because he was staring at a hot, half-naked guy.”
“Aw, you think I’m hot?” I asked.
“Please,” Greg replied. “You know you’re the hottest guy at The Warehouse. I think Clint was just nervous in front of you and he didn’t want to talk about some annoying girl.”
“See that’s the thing,” I replied, “she was annoying. She didn’t seem like she’d allow him to relax and have a good time, and I bet that’s starting to get old for him.”
I heard a beeping in my phone, and I assumed someone was trying to call me.
“Greg,” I said, “I’ve got to go. I’ll text you later.”
“Yep,” Greg replied, hanging up and ending the call.
Looking down at my phone, I could see that it was in fact a text message – not a phone call – that had caused my phone to beep. My heart skipped a beat as I realized that the message was from Clint, and it seemed like he was inviting me somewhere.
I swiped open my phone and read his message: There’s a party at the gym at seven o’clock tonight. You don’t need to bring anything except a smile. See you there!
I had no idea there was going to be a party at Rock Fitness, as he hadn’t mentioned it the night before.
Maybe I’m wrong, I thought, walking back into the kitchen for my coffee. Maybe he did mention it.
I had been drinking after all, which we weren’t supposed to do on the job, but we all did anyway. I couldn’t remember Clint mentioning any party, and I thought it was strange that he would randomly bring it up. Guessing it was a party for his coworkers, I wondered if they would all know each other and I’d be the odd man out.
Still, I couldn’t distract myself from the feeling of excited anticipation as I wondered what the atmosphere would be like. I closed my eyes and pictured Clint leaving The Warehouse the night before and running off to find Kelly before telling her that it was over between the two of them, and that he only wanted to see me.
Before I could think about it further, I heard my phone beep again and I looked down to see that Greg had sent me another text message: Stop thinking about him!
6
As I walked along the sidewalk, I watched the people of New York City strolling past me. Some had smiles on their faces while others hurriedly walked along, obviously late for appointments or work. New York was a city of energy, of fast-moving pedestrians, and fast-moving relationships.
Strolling along, I began to wonder if Clint was the type of guy who liked to move from relationship to relationship. He was obviously comfortable inviting me along to see him, and it seemed like he was fine with having me meet his coworkers as well. Still, I wasn’t sure if he might introduce me as a friend or if he even saw me as anything else.
Or maybe, I thought as I pulled my sweater a little tighter over my body, he just wants to have a new client. Maybe he’s low on his monthly income and needs to sign up someone new.
Shaking my head, I scolded myself for being so cynical, and reminded myself that it was fine to feel excited over something new with a guy. That was the problem I had always had: not wanting to feel excited over someone new, because excitement always led to disappointment, and disappointment led to heartbreak.
I knew that I wasn’t a person who was motivated by monogamy, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I wanted something more. Perhaps not the confines of a traditional relationship, but something more along the lines of a friendship with benefits. Still, I wondered if that would be enough to satisfy this new craving I had suddenly started experiencing.
Thinking about two of my close friends who were in an open relationship, I wondered if I would have the capacity for something like that. They frequently told me that they were both comfortable within the relationship, and that they understood the risks and problems. Jealousy, insecurity, and issues with intimacy were all problems that my friends who were in open relationships faced, but I still wondered if it might work for me.
Knowing that Clint was straight, I thought it would be unlikely that he’d be interested in having an open relationship with anyone. Most of the straight men I knew were stuck viewing relationships through traditional ideals and norms.
Finally nearing the gym, I looked up at the big, bold letters stretched across the top of the building, and suddenly felt nervous. I hadn’t thought about it before arriving, but I was obviously about to come face to face with Clint again, and I had no idea what he wanted from me.
I walked up to the front doors, pulled them open, and climbed the stairs to the main floor. The stairs in and of themselves were a workout, and I wondered how anyone had the energy to climb them every day without turning around and falling back down. Rounding the corner, I passed by a group of people who were chatting about moving the party out of the gym and over to a bar.
One girl – who looked as though she might be a personal trainer – frowned and said to the person next to her, “I feel uncomfortable having a drink at work, we should just go to that bar on the corner.”
As I walked back, they all turned and looked at me with quizzical expressions on their faces. I smiled and tried to nod, but it probably came across as nervous or timid. The girl who had suggested moving the party to the bar took pity on me and smiled in return.
“Hi,” she sai
d, her curly brown hair framing her square face. “Are you looking for someone?”
“Yes,” I replied, my eyes searching around the gym for Clint. “I’m here to see Clint.”
“Oh,” she replied, looking me up and down as if she had no idea what I was doing there. “Are you a client of his?”
Shaking my head, I replied, “No, I’m here for the party.”
Before she could reply, I heard footsteps behind me and I turned to see Clint standing two feet away.
“Hi,” he said, a confused expression on his face.
“Hi,” I replied with a smile, trying to cut the tension but probably failing. “I hope I’m not late.”
I knew, however, that I wasn’t late. I had meticulously planned the walk from my apartment to the gym so I would be right on time. I hated being early, and I hated being late, so I always took great pride in timing myself perfectly.
“Late for what?” he asked, as he glanced past me at his coworkers.
“The party,” I replied, suddenly feeling guilty about not bringing anything as I looked around at the bottles of wine on the counter. “I know your text said seven o’clock, was that right?”
“Oh,” Clint replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket and looking down at it.
Finally, he looked up from his phone and back at his coworkers. “Could you guys excuse us for a second?”
Gesturing with his hand, he motioned for me to follow him to another area in the gym. I looked over my shoulder at his coworkers who all looked as confused as I felt. I turned back around and followed Clint over to another corner of the room.
“I’m so sorry,” he began, and I knew it wasn’t going to be good news.
“That text message was meant for Kelly,” he said, “and I accidentally sent it to you.”
My heart immediately sank through my body and down into my feet. I began to nervously look around, desperately trying to think of something to say to get myself out of this situation. I berated myself for not replying to the text message, as that could have saved me a world of embarrassment.
“Oh,” I replied, finally looking him in the eyes, “that’s okay, no problem.”
“I’m not sure what to say,” he said, frowning as he furrowed his brow. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“That’s totally fine,” I said, but I was sure that the expression on my face indicated that my feelings were hurt.
There was no way for me to hide it, as I generally wore my heart on my sleeve and anyone could usually tell how I was feeling at any given moment. I turned to look at his coworkers, and it looked as if they were all whispering about me. I was suddenly reminded of walking down the hallways in high school, watching and listening as the other kids snickered and pointed.
The entire situation had reduced me to a steaming pile of nothingness, and I wanted to melt into my shoes and disappear. Turning back to face Clint, he had a remarkably sympathetic expression on his face, and I knew that he felt guilty, which only served to make me even more embarrassed.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said with a forced smile. “I should probably head back home then.”
I turned to walk away, but I felt Clint’s hand grab my arm to pull me back, as a zap of electricity zinged through me at his touch.
“Wait a second,” he said, “let me make this up to you somehow; I’m so sorry for wasting your time.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal,” I replied, turning back to look at him again.
To my surprise, he kept his hand on my arm and didn’t let go. The tingling warmth of his hand continued right on down to my cock making it swell slightly. I was worried that his coworkers might notice and disapprove, but it didn’t seem like he cared one way or the other.
“No, seriously,” he said with a genuinely warm smile. “I feel bad about the miscommunication. How about you stop by the gym tomorrow for a free training session? I have some extra time in the afternoon, so we can go for as long as you like.”
“Well…” I began, but my voice trailed off.
“Well, nothing,” he said, squeezing my arm with his strong hands. “I’ll text you later tonight and we’ll set up an exact time.”
“Okay,” I conceded, happy to know that he at least wanted to see me again.
Before he could reply, I heard a girl’s voice coming from behind me. Turning around, I could see Kelly standing there watching us with a frown on her face.
“Clint?” she asked, fixing her gaze on his hand which was still firmly attached to my arm.
“Hi,” Clint said, sounding as if his mouth had completely dried out.
He quickly let go of my arm and added, “You remember Nicholas.”
She nodded her head and shot me a dirty look. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I replied, unsure of what else to say.
Clint continued, “He just stopped by to inquire about some personal training, so I told him to stop by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh,” she said, finally relaxing and changing her expression from one of confusion to one of reserved acceptance. “Well, good.”
“Right,” I said. “Well then, that’s settled. Clint, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He nodded his head, and I turned to quickly walk away. Walking past his coworkers brought me right back to high school, feeling their eyes practically burning a hole through my skin as I passed them. I decided to turn and smile, although what I really wanted to do was flip them off for making me so uncomfortable.
There was no doubt in my mind that they had watched as Clint grabbed my arm, and they probably had just as many questions about it as I did. I wondered if they would mention it to Kelly before reminding myself that it wasn’t any of my business, and I shouldn’t care.
If Clint wanted to see me the next day, that was between the two of us. I knew, however, that I would not be the first one to send a text message. I planned to wait for him to reach out to me before confirming anything. Still, I wasn’t sure if he wanted to bring on a new client, or if he genuinely wanted to see me.
The night had brought more questions than answers, but as I walked through the doors of the gym, back out onto the street in the cool night air, I realized that I wasn’t as anxious as I was before. Instead of feeling concern over what he might want from me, I finally accepted that I was happy to just feel excited for the first time in a long while.
7
Slinking around the apartment was usually one of my favorite pastimes, but I couldn’t stop the anxiety from creeping through my body as I thought about my first workout with Clint. After our awkward encounter the night before, I had been happy to receive a text message from him explaining that he sincerely wanted to work me out on Wednesday.
I’d like to work him out too, I thought, apparently channeling my inner sarcastic adolescent.
Looking down at my phone, I checked to make sure that I had actually received a message from him and that I hadn’t just imagined it earlier. I rolled my eyes as I realized that it was only Tuesday, and that I’d have to wait another twenty-four hours to see him. My thoughts drifted away to Kelly and I wondered if she knew about our session for the day, but I quickly remembered that Clint had mentioned it to her.
Why didn’t he ask to work me out today? I wondered. I specifically remember him mentioning that our appointment would be today.
I grabbed my bag and began to walk toward the door, trying to convince myself that I didn’t need to worry so much about everything. Just go and have some fun.
As I walked out the door of my building, I felt my phone vibrating and I looked down to see that Greg was texting me, asking me why I was late. Looking at the time, I realized that I was at least fifteen minutes late, and I felt disappointed in myself as I generally tried to be on time.
Looking back down at the text, I saw that Greg had mentioned that someone was waiting for me at The Warehouse. My heart skipped a beat and I immediately began to wonder if it was Clint, but I knew it wasn’t very likely since he had mentioned that
he would be busy all evening. I checked the time and saw that it was now fifteen minutes past seven o’clock, and I picked up the pace and began to walk faster.
Passing people on the street, I tried my best to focus on the sidewalk before me, but I caught myself looking at every handsome face that crossed my path. There was no denying the fact that I was in the mood to get my rocks off, and I knew I’d get to at The Warehouse, but that couldn’t stop me from wishing it would be with Clint instead of some nameless person at the bar.
Maybe I can just put on a show with Greg, I thought. Tease the people waiting at the bar.
Feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket again, I pulled it out to see that Greg had sent me another text indicating that someone was waiting for me and desperately wanted to see me. I couldn’t imagine who it might be, but as soon as I walked through the front door of The Warehouse, I saw him sitting in the corner by himself, and I knew it wasn’t going to be a fun night.
His name was Kenneth – I didn’t need to know his last name – and he had stopped by The Warehouse once or twice before, each time leaving me a larger tip than the time before. He was friendly yet awkward, and there was something about him that automatically set off a warning signal in my mind.
As he saw me walk by him, he tried to force a smile, but there was nothing that seemed more unnatural on Kenneth than a smile. I nodded my head and tried to walk past him directly toward the locker room so I could change. He rose to his feet and quickly walked over to intercept me and strike up a conversation.
“Hi,” he said, still forcing his smile as if it might appeal to me. “I was wondering when you might get here.”
I couldn’t help but slightly cringe at the sight of him, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. He was decent-looking, polite, friendly, and generous with the tips, but that didn’t quell my discomfort whenever he was around.
“Hi Kenneth,” I said, immediately regretting my decision to refer to him by name.
I didn’t want him to feel that we were closer than we actually were, so I probably should have kept away from saying his name.
The Warehouse Page 6