The gym was dead at 2 a.m.—just the low hum of fluorescent lights and the faint squeak of my sneakers on the rubber floor. I’d come here to burn off the day’s bullshit, but the only thing burning was the stretch in my hamstrings as I leaned over the bench, ass up, trying to touch my toes. My leggings were soaked through with sweat, clinging to every curve, and my sports bra had given up pretending to contain my t**s hours ago.
That’s when I heard the side door creak open.
He stepped in like he owned the place—tall, inked, wearing nothing but loose gray sweatpants that hung low enough to show the deep V cutting into his hips. No shirt. No shoes. Just muscle and shadow and a lazy smirk when he spotted me.
“Closing in twenty,” he said, voice rough like he’d been shouting all night. “You ne
