by Lane Hayes
“Um, that was Julie.”
“Don’t tell me. She was doing a reenactment of your sexy night? I don’t need any gory details, honey. I get easily hot and bothered.” He waved his hand over his face as though he were fanning himself.
His affected posture and the way he called me “honey” made me blink. It was a little gay, I supposed. Was he? I couldn’t be sure. He was very masculine in the way he dressed, spoke, and moved. Of course, Jake was too. Stereotyping said more about the person making assumptions than anything else. It didn’t matter to me one way or the other, I reminded myself. Alex was my neighbor, and he was interesting. I felt that familiar pull toward him, and this time, I decided not to question.
“There was no sexy night. Julie is just a friend,” I said as I came to stand in front of his open door. I could see inside his condo and noted the open floor plan was similar to mine, though his place looked bigger.
“Does she know that? I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I caught the end of her good-bye, and let me be honest, Nate, the way she looked at you was gooey.”
I threw my head back and laughed for what felt like the first time in days. “Gooey?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
I rolled my eyes but surprised myself by actually confiding in a practical stranger. “We just had one of those uncomfortable ‘you know we’re just friends’ discussions.”
“Oh. Those are no fun.”
“Not at all, and I’m not good at—”
“Letting the girls down easy or talking in general?” Alex teased. A spark of humor lit his eyes, making them look greener if possible.
“Hmph. I don’t have throngs of women after me, but I’ve been told my communication skills suck, so yeah, I probably fucked it up to a degree. She seemed okay.” I shrugged uncomfortably. “I think.”
Alex studied me before straightening away from the doorjamb and nodding thoughtfully. “What are you doing this morning?”
“Uh, it’s—” I checked my watch distractedly, wondering where he was going with his question. “—ten thirty, so I’ll probably get to work and—”
“Come to the gym with me. It’s a great way to burn off excess steam and stress. And no offence, but you’re one of the biggest stress cases I’ve come across in a while. I’ll grab my bag and meet you by the elevator in ten minutes. You can drive, and I’ll get a ride home with someone later. Sound good? Vámonos!” He turned away and closed the door before I could respond.
Wait a second. I didn’t want to go to the gym. I had a ton of work to do, and I’d already gone for a run this morning. I wasn’t falling for his tricks today, I decided, lifting a hand to knock on the door. A blast of Spanish pop music from inside made me stop. I should have been irritated by his presumptuousness and his thoughtless habit of playing music loud enough for the entire building to hear. He should know better. But instead of pissing me off, the sound of him singing along in perfect key made me stop. Did I really want to work at home dodging ghosts in a quiet condo after the conversation I’d just had with Julie? I walked back to my place to get my keys. Maybe the gym wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
AS I drove east on Santa Monica Boulevard I stole a quick glance at my passenger. Alex’s gaze was fixed to his phone distractedly. I’d had a fear when he first met me at the elevator with his customary wide grin in place that I was in for an earful of nonstop chatter for the fifteen minutes or so it would take to get to West Hollywood. Instead he was quiet. When I stopped at a red light, I turned to observe him. He was wearing aviator sunglasses, but from this angle I could see his furrowed brow.
“You okay? You’re quiet.”
Alex glanced over at me and flashed a brilliant smile before tucking his phone in the side pocket of his gym bag.
“Sorry. That was my dad. He’s a horrible texter, so I’m not sure why he didn’t just call, but on the other hand, it saved me from having to talk to him. He’s in one of his moods.” Alex’s mouth quirked in something between humor and annoyance.
“You think everyone’s in a mood,” I teased. “What’s your dad’s problem?”
He lowered his glasses and gave me a curious once-over lingering at my lips before he finally answered.
“My dad is difficult. Muy difícil. I’m not sure what set him off this time, but he’s on a rampage. I’ve managed to stay under his radar for a while, so I don’t know why he wants my undivided attention suddenly. Something must be up. Family fun. Not your thing, I remember. Tell me about your Friday night. If you didn’t get laid, at least not with Julie, what did you do?”
I opened and closed my mouth in exasperation. The car behind me honked impatiently when the light changed, and Alex let out a shout of laughter, obviously pleased he’d thrown me off guard. Again.
“You already know about my Friday night.”
“Only sort of. Fill in the blanks. Where’d you go? If you didn’t do the pretty blonde, did you do someone else?”
I snorted indignantly. “My ‘fill in the blanks’ will take one minute or less. When I’m done you can tell me about what or who you did last night. Deal?”
His musical laughter rang through the car. “Deal.”
“I met Julie at Bran and Jake’s house for dinner. She was pissed I wasn’t able to take the afternoon off yesterday and ended up drinking her weight in liquor. She was hammered when I got there.”
“Why? Did you tell her you’d take time off?”
“I mentioned I’d like to, but I don’t recall committing to it.” I sounded like a dick to my own ears. A brief glance at Alex confirmed he thought the same. “Julie and I—it’s complicated. We’re great friends who… I just wish things could go back to something close to normal with us. What street am I turning on?”
“Right on Beverly Boulevard.”
“Anyway, I’m not the guy for her. Or anyone probably. Enough about me. What did you do last night?”
That particular question coming from me was an anomaly. Alex didn’t know me well enough to know I wasn’t given to asking about other people’s weekends. It simply wasn’t interesting to me. Usually.
“I went dancing. You’re going to turn left on Fairfax.”
“Dancing. Hmm.”
“Don’t tell me. You hate dancing.” He mumbled his disbelief in Spanish and pivoted in his seat to face me. “What do you like, then? I mean, what do you do for fun besides listen to classical music?”
I chuckled at his mocking tone. “I keep busy.”
“I’m sure you do. What about when you aren’t working? You obviously care about fitness.” I noted his sweeping glance and felt a rush of heat cover my cheeks.
I shifted slightly in my seat, hoping to inconspicuously relieve the pressure in my suddenly snug workout shorts. Damn.
“Um… yeah. I work out. I surf and run.”
“Really? That’s cool. We should go sometime. I’m not great by any stretch, but I used to surf a lot when I was a teenager. Before soccer ruled my world.” He tapped the window and told me to turn on Melrose. “There’s Bran’s store and my gym is there. Pull up to the curb, and let Felix valet your car.”
I did as instructed, listening as Alex spoke rapid-fire Spanish with the parking attendant. I grabbed both of our bags from the backseat while he inquired about Felix’s baby daughter and what he’d been up to on his days off. When he jokingly told him I wasn’t fussy and he could park my Range Rover next to the trash bins in the alley, I glanced up quickly and scowled at him. He laughed and took his bag from me with a quick “gracias.” Felix hurried to assure me in broken English he’d take good care of my SUV and not to worry about Mr. Alex.
“Confío en ti,” I said, smiling at the young man. “Gracias.”
Alex gave me a wide, beautiful grin. “Very nice, Nate. Your español is muy bien.”
I chuckled at his Spanglish and stared after him for a moment until I realized my eyes were glued to his ass. Jesus. I swallowed hard as I shrugged my bag over my shoulder and joined him on the sidewa
lk.
The businesses lining this part of Melrose catered to an upscale clientele: Hollywood directors, A-list actors, and world-renowned rock stars and musicians. Not to mention some with more money than sense who liked to be seen in the “right” places. Many storefront doors were flanked by tasteful topiaries and featured crisp, clean awnings with bold lettering above the wide windows. The heavy white block lettering on the black awning above Alex’s gym said one word…. Definition. There was nothing stating this was a workout facility nor was there advertisement on the windows listing the various amenities. In other words this place provided a service to those “in the know.” His clients undoubtedly expected an exclusive workout with elite professionals and were willing to pay big bucks for the bragging rights.
I followed him into the sleek reception area and hung back to check out my surroundings while he greeted the handsome young Latino man behind the tall front desk. A huge white backlit panel covered the desk area like a piece of contemporary art. It was offset by another panel of gray behind the receptionist with the company logo emblazoned in the center. The countertop was a dark gray concrete and matched the wide plank flooring. Everything else was stark white. The space was a study in contrast and, oddly enough, modern elegance.
“Nate, come meet Tomás. He’s one of the newest members of the team here. Tomás, Nate is my neighbor and my friend,” he said with an inscrutable grin.
I held out a hand to greet the young man and was immediately struck by how damn pretty he was. Olive-colored skin, light brown eyes, and ridiculously high cheekbones. He was wearing a formfitting black T-shirt with the gym’s logo that lovingly showcased his trim but well-toned physique. Tomás looked like a male model, not a fitness aficionado.
“So nice to meet you.” He flung out his hand in a move worthy of a femme fatale and fluttered his long eyelashes flirtatiously. Perhaps the effeminate campy greeting shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did.
I felt my smile dip as I shook his hand, but I didn’t understand why. I certainly didn’t care if the young man was gay, straight, black, white, or any variation of the above. If I were honest, I suppose it was a preconceived notion being challenged. Like this space, for example. I expected a more masculine atmosphere, not an art gallery. No-nonsense exposed beams with industrial-style carpeting and a heavily muscled, overly serious receptionist wouldn’t have made me blink twice. The gym’s gorgeous space and stunning young employee were unexpected.
Alex’s shrewd gaze and amused half smile told me he knew what was going on in my head. I adjusted my glasses, hoping we could move on. Exercise might help clear some of the confusion I could feel settling over me. Alex turned back to ask Tomás about his schedule in Spanish. Tomás gave him a brief rundown in a businesslike tone.
“Bien. I’m off to give Nate the grand tour,” Alex said, nudging my elbow. “This way.”
We passed through a bank of disappearing glass doors leading to the main gym. A wide corridor nearby led to a series of private smaller rooms Alex explained were used for anything from individual body sculpting workouts to massages. Locker rooms and showers were located on the opposite end. His handsome face brightened proudly as he described the pristine facility. I lost count of how many times he used the word “ultramodern,” but it certainly fit.
I’d dealt with enough building plans to recognize the flow and proportion were well executed and painstakingly organized. Elliptical trainers, stationary bikes, treadmills, and other cardiovascular machines were situated on one end. Benches and an impressive array of freestyle weights anchored another end of the space while leg and arm machinery floated in the midsection. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors surrounded the entire space, giving it a familiar “gym” feel. It was a well-designed space that effortlessly avoided feeling cramped and claustrophobic the way many workout facilities did.
“This is very nice,” I commented, setting my bag at my feet.
“Thanks. I have about thirty minutes before my first client appointment, so I can help you train for a while. What do you feel like working on? Arms? Legs? Core?”
“Uh.”
Alex chuckled. “Decisions, decisions.”
He hitched his bag over his shoulder and turned toward the lockers, waving at various trainers and clients along the way. The gym looked half-full, which probably equated to very busy for a late Saturday morning at a semiprivate establishment. I could have sworn I recognized a famous Hollywood actor or two as we passed.
Once we’d stored our belongings in the locker room, we made our way back to the main gym area. I was suddenly very aware I had Alex’s complete and undivided attention. He was in “trainer” mode.
“Let’s start with chest, shoulders, and triceps. Lay flat on this bench while I grab some weights.”
I hadn’t worked out with a professional in years, and it felt foreign to wait for someone else’s direction.
“Any issues with your shoulders or arms? Any injuries I should know about?” he asked, handing me the weights.
“No, I’m good.”
“Great. Start with your palms facing your thighs, lift them both over your chest, then lower the left. Good. And now the right.”
He stood over me diligently, making slight corrections when needed. My supine position gave me an interesting perspective. When I looked up, I noted how his strong brow offset his twinkling eyes. I swallowed uncomfortably and turned my head, only to find myself staring at his crotch. His dark shorts seemed to hint they were covering a generous package.
Holy fuck.
“You doing okay?”
“Uh yeah. Hey, weren’t you going to tell me about your Friday night?” I needed him to talk. I didn’t trust my thoughts anymore, and I was stuck in my current position crazily aware of a man in a way I hadn’t been in over fifteen fucking years. Diversion in any form was welcome.
Alex snorted. “I already told you. I went dancing, and oh yeah, I did get lucky.”
He added the last part with a hearty chuckle, no doubt catching my wide-eyed expression. I hadn’t expected that.
“Oh.”
“You asked.”
“Right.” I did? The strong flash of jealousy took me by surprise, but I pressed on. “Did you go back to the beach to get those girls’ numbers last weekend?”
He looked confused for a second, but a slow cocky grin soon spread across his handsome features as he crouched so his face was close to mine.
“No, I told you they weren’t my type.”
I gulped and watched his eyes lower to my throat. He licked his top lip and reached out to adjust my wrist.
“Lift ’em both at the same time, Nate. That’s it. Push it. Harder.”
I sent up a quick prayer I wasn’t sporting a tent in my shorts. Alex’s voice, touch, and yeah, the unintentional innuendos were making me nuts. And horny. I felt terribly out of my element. I wasn’t sure what we were talking about anymore, but the potent silence made me more uncomfortable than speech. Keep talking, I thought.
“So a dance partner?”
“What? Oh. Yeah, I think so. I can’t remember. It was just one of those things, you know? Sit up. Let’s give your arms a break.”
“Just one of those things?”
“Yeah. One night. No numbers exchanged. No hassle, no fuss.”
I had no words. Literally.
Alex chuckled gleefully as he led the way to a leg machine. He gave instructions and stood back to observe me for a moment.
“It’s not necessarily my favorite kind of sex, but hey….” He shrugged his shoulders with his hands outstretched as if to say “what’s a guy to do?”
I recognized this cue. It was my opportunity to commiserate about the trials and tribulations of being a single man with a healthy sexual appetite. Now was my chance to admit it was nice every once in a while to have sex of the nonsolo variety with someone who knew the score. But I was tongue-tied and equally aware of a completely different undercurrent. One I wasn’t brave enough to explore.
/> “You can stop having fun at my expense any time.”
Alex squeezed my shoulder and smirked playfully. “You’re easily rattled.”
“How so?”
“You seem like someone who has a place for everything and likes everything in its place. You have a routine, and you don’t appreciate any deviation. I should be flattered you came to the gym with me at the spur of the moment.” He paused, running his tongue over his plump bottom lip. “If you’re not careful, I’m gonna think you like me.”
The air between us crackled. Alex leaned forward so his handsome face was mere inches from mine. His proximity alone seemed to issue a challenge. Daring me to confess I was more than I appeared to be. I doubt he expected any revelations, but his intent was certainly to… how had he put it, rattle me. And damn, it was working.
My palms felt sweaty, and my heart was beating faster than I could rightly blame on the little bit of exercise I’d done so far. I sat up taller on the leg machine’s bucket seat and moved closer holding Alex’s steady gaze. I could feel his warm breath on my lips and found myself licking my own instinctively. His eyes followed my tongue. I watched his Adam’s apple move and wondered why that seemed so fucking hot. And why did I notice in the first place?
He was waiting for me to respond, but I couldn’t remember what he’d asked. Something about liking him. I adjusted my glasses, hoping I could speak audibly when I opened my mouth.
“Yeah, I like you.”
We didn’t move. We just breathed. I heard far-off conversations, the clanging of weights, and the hum of machinery. But I’d never been more aware of someone’s presence. Alex was all I could see, all I could hear. I ached to touch him in a way that freaked me out more than I wanted to admit.
“Alex, honey, your client’s here!”
Alex blinked, and the spell was broken. He didn’t turn until Tomás was standing a few feet away. He spoke in Spanish, telling him he’d be at the front desk shortly before turning back to me.
“I have to go.” He brushed at his longish hair and stood. “I’m booked all day, but feel free to stay for as long as you’d like. If you want to come during the week, that’s cool too. I know you’re busy, but the offer stands. See you ’round, Nate.”