Page 18 of Forgotten Comeback
How would my dream have played out? Would Gavin have cried? Would he have come?
Dammit, why am I thinking about that man, dream or otherwise?
With a frustrated sigh, I reattach the shower head and lather my skin, ignoring the pulsating between my legs. It was a bizarre dream and means nothing, other than I might need a break from listening to smut.
Throwing on some workout clothes and my new Ace’s tee, I’m out the door. And on my commute, I decide to take a little hiatus from the priest and nun smash fest, just in case.
“Wouldn’t a computer scheduling system be more efficient?” I ask Russell, flipping through his desk calendar.
“Probably. But old dog, new tricks,” he says. “Cash box is locked in the bottom drawer.”
“Have you considered accepting credit card payments?” I wonder.
He shakes his head. “Cash is king.”
Won’t hear me arguing, considering he’s paying me cash under the table.
“I’m going to be out of pocket for the morning. You good opening by yourself?” Russell asks me.
“I’ve got it.” What’s not to get? Turn on the lights. Unlock the door. Greet members. I think I can handle it.
“Great. I’ll be back later.” He reaches into his desk and tosses me an Ace’s tee before walking out.
I switch out my tank top for the tee, and go about the job of, drumroll please, turning on the lights.
Main floor. Weights area. Hallway to the locker rooms. I stick my head in the ladies’ room and flick the switch before walking down the hall.
A warm blast hits me in the face when I open the door to the men’s locker room, the light already on.
Seriously? Somebody left the shower running all night? Damn, I don’t want to be here when Russell opens that water bill.
I round the lockers, catching the reflection of someone in the shower.
Not just someone.
My feet are rooted in place as Gavin’s soapy hands move over his chiseled chest. Those hands move lower, and my breath hitches when his soapy fingers dance around the barbell.
What the hell am I doing?
Other than getting hypnotized by a photoshopped penis and admiring the man’s rock-hard ass.
An ass I was about to fuck in my dream…
My head gets a little shake, forcing myself to snap out of it. Slowly retreating, the back of my legs bump into the bench, and I grimace as a towel falls to the floor.
“Enjoying the show, man-eater?” Gavin’s gaze meets mine in the mirror.
My cheeks engulf in flames as I avert my eyes to the tile. “How the hell did you get in here?”
“I have a key. How the hell did you get in here?” he counters.
“I’m working here, part-time,” I say in a rush. “Sorry to interrupt. I thought someone left the shower running.”
“Sure you did.” Even though I’m not looking at him, I can freaking hear the smirk in his voice.
“Get over yourself.” I spin on my heel and march out, ignoring the annoying pulsating between my legs.
I despise this man, and my ovaries need to get on the same fucking page.
