The facility is huge, taking up half the fourth floor, and it has every conceivable piece of equipment anyone could ever want, including a half-court basketball area. It’s why I don’t see Malik immediately when I walk in. It’s midafternoon and fairly deserted, since most people prefer early morning or after work to hit the gym.
Finally hearing the clank of metal from where the power racks are located, I head that way. I have to wind through a few rows of stationary bikes, stair climbers, and treadmills before I see him doing chest presses.
He’s flat on his back, pumping heavy stacks of plates. Not wanting to disturb his concentration, I move in a bit closer, but I remain out of his periphery. When he’s finished and has the barbell racked, he sits up to straddle the bench.
Malik doesn’t see me right away. Instead, he twists to the left to grab a towel. I take a moment to appreciate the unfettered view of his body, which I’m not ashamed in the least to admit I find attractive. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of low-hanging gym shorts. He’s lean, which is an improvement over emaciated. The muscles of his bare chest are starting to build up again, and there’s beautiful definition in his shoulders and biceps. There’s a thin sheen of sweat over his body, but he only uses the towel to mop his face.
When it falls away, he sees me, and his entire body goes still.
I close the distance between us. The closer I get, the more alarmed his expression becomes. I guess he knows I’m here to discuss what happened in my apartment the other night.
Malik rises from the bench, dropping the towel. I come to a stop just a few feet away from him. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he replies hesitantly.
“You’re back.”
“Just a few hours ago,” he says, then lamely adds, “I was going to come see you—”
I hold my hand up to stop him because his intentions, or lack thereof, are unimportant to me. I’d thought to come in here and demand we sit down to have a meaningful discussion about what’s going on between us.
But, to be honest, everything in my gut straight up to my heart is telling me that talking might not be the right course right now. We’re in a gym—seemingly alone since I didn’t spot anyone else—and Malik is half-naked and looking incredibly hot.
Sometimes… words can be overrated.
I step into him, my hands settling on his damp chest. The muscles under my fingers leap, and a low rumble emits from within him. Slowly, I drag my gaze up until my eyes lock on his, which are darkened, confused, and a little feral.
Purposefully, I slide my hands up.
Over his collarbones, then along the sides of his neck.
Fingertips touching the damp ends of his hair, thumbs along his jaw. My gaze narrows on his mouth, and there’s no way he can mistake my intent.
I pull him down to me… or attempt to since he resists.
Letting my eyes drift up, I feel my heart squeeze when I see the conflict on his face. Never have I seen someone want something so much, yet the clear refusal to go there is obvious.
Stroking my thumbs along his stubble, I murmur, “Trust me, Malik.”
Immediately, I feel the tension in his neck release as he does exactly as I request.
He trusts me.
I rise onto my tiptoes, exert the tiniest amount of pressure with my hands, and draw Malik’s mouth down to mine.
At first touch—his lips against mine—I know within my heart of hearts there is nothing wrong with this. It’s an exploratory meeting of our mouths, soft and hesitant.
Hopeful.
Malik’s breath stutters… a shaky exhale into my mouth.
The last bit of control he’s giving up.
His arms come up, knocking mine out of the way, then it’s his hands on my face.
Holding me in place as his head tilts and he deepens the kiss. I feel it all the way down to my soul. Now, I can do nothing but grip onto his shoulders and hang on for the ride, my life suddenly turned into a roller coaster of emotion.
Then, a noise penetrates through the fog of lust… voices.
Two men, laughing about something, near the front of the gym.
Malik and I spring apart from each other as if we’d been shocked with a current. When I glance over my shoulder, I see Saint and Cruce walking in with gym bags in their hands. They don’t see us as they head toward the basketball court.
I turn back to Malik, dismayed to see a thin veil of unease creep back into his expression. How he can have doubts after that kiss is beyond me…
I guess now is the time to actually use my words.
Well, not “now”. We have work to finish out for the day.
Reaching out, I grab his hand and give it a quick squeeze. “Will you come over for dinner tonight so we can talk? I think it would help.”