Page 12 of Not That Ridiculous

I hadn’t been cool a day in my fucking life.

It was the number one reason I was so cranky. People couldn’t notice your stunning lack of cool if you were distracting them by being cranky.

“Yeah?” Jasper checked.

I softened at his concern. He really meant it, bless him.

“I want coming to the gym to be a great experience for you, Charlie,” he said, painfully genuine. “I think you’ll get a lot out of it, and it’ll be good for you.”

“It’s…yeah. I’m having fun. It’s fun.”

Jasper beamed.

It was terrible. It was awful. I was having the worst time.

I was stuck in a room full of mirrors and other people, and I was now sandwiched between the only men I’d ever wanted or loved in my life, neither of them knew it, and if I managed to get out of this situation without getting an inappropriate erection, I’d be all astonishment.

4

“What’re we doing, then?” Kevin came to stand beside me. He was sweating lightly and radiating heat like the freaking sun.

Jasper was as bad.

Compared to the two of them, I was a reptile.

“I could do with a model to demonstrate the proper form for Charlie,” Jasper said. “Got a couple of minutes to help out?”

“Yep.”

“Brill. I think we’ll recap the bicep curls, then do the basics—deadlift, row, overhead press—and before we finish up, I want him to try out a couple of barbell squats.”

“Squats are my favourite,” Kevin informed me. “Great for the back and butt. Spot on for me, what with all the lifting I do at work.”

Despite my brain yelling sharply,No! Do not!in the exact same way I yelled at Phil whenever he saw some geese in the park he wanted to go and make friends with, my eyes inevitably tracked down Kevin’s side to his arse.

And Kevin obligingly turned andpresentedit to me.

I was still staring at it, thinking,He is naked under there naked buttocks no pants just butt perfect round buttwhen he reached out, knocked my shoulder lightly and turned me to check out mine.

“Yeah,” he said, “you could do with a good squatting routine. You’ve got a flat little butt, you have.”

I twisted around to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

“Flat little butt,” he repeated, as if the problem was that I hadn’t heard the insult. “You do a lot of cardio, Charlie, but you’ll wear yourself down if you don’t put muscle on. I worry about you.”

“Howdareyou—what? You what?”

“You’re always zipping around in your shop. I’ve never once seen you take a break.”

“Well. I take plenty. You probably just keep missing it.”

I was always on the go at the coffee shop, yes. But at home I was mostly on my sofa, what with being knackered by being on the go at the coffee shop.

I had balance.

Also…? He worried about me?

He noticed me? Other than as a vaguely man-shaped dispenser of caffeine and pastries?

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