“They asked if I wanted to work in, which apparently meant to take turns on the machine, and I said yes, because what else was I supposed to say, you know? I insisted the weight they had on there was fine, I was sooooo confident it would be easy work. I lifted the bar up and it immediately crashed to my chest. I full out panicked, screamed my head off that I was dying. It was humiliating, took three guys to pull it off me, just to find out later it was only their warm-up weight!” he laughs, the sound light and carefree as it coats my soul. I take a drink of water, doing my best to hide the smile that’s slipping out as he continues his tale about picking things up and putting them down.
He's rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as he explains how his arms didn’t work for a week after one of the guys agreed to let him shadow his workout for a day.
“I remember trying to shower later that night and having to use one of those loofah bath brushes to wash my hair because I couldn’t lift my arms that high without them shaking.”
A laugh bubbles out before I can stop it, remembering the time after a brutal leg day I dropped a pen and stared at it for about ten minutes before deciding it wasn’t worth the risk to bend down and ending up staying down.
His head snaps around to face me so quickly I’m a little worried he might have whiplash.
“I got a laugh!” he fist-pumps into the air. And then he’s just staring at me, a dopey smile showing off a single dimple burrowed into his left cheek.
He's smiling like getting the world’s huff of laughter fromme was the biggest win of his life. A dulled star he’s seeing shine for the first time. Desperate to see the shimmer of happiness he, unfortunately, seems to bring out of me.
My stomach does this weird flip, and my feet suddenly become lead beneath me as I open my mouth to rebuke his statement. I can say I was coughing, or that I was thinking of something else, but when my eyes connect with his, the words on the tip of my tongue float away.
I shut my mouth without a peep and he somehow smiles wider, running a hand through his hair.
I bet it’s soft. It looks thick, like I could get a good handful…
I feel the momentum falter before I realize the room isn’t tilting—I’m falling. My foot closest to Colton snags on the stationary side of the machine, and I start to stumble forward. A large hand grips my upper arm, steadying me before my face collides with the console.
“You’re okay,” Colton coos once my legs are back in the center of the belt and my steps even out.
His hand runs down my arm to my wrist, thumb soothing my erratic heartbeat with small circles over my skin. I was right, his hands are massive. I watch the small pattern he traces there before he finally moves his hand away. All the while, my eyes watch his hand, and his eyes watch me.
My heartbeat is still erratic, my breath coming out in pants as his hand hovers in the space between our machines, ready to catch me again if I fall.
“If you wanted my hands on that you that badly, Sunshine, all you had to do was ask,” he says, waiting for my stare to finally leave his hand before he winks.Winks.
Instead of responding I slap the emergency stop button on my machine, feeling the belt come to an abrupt halt as I reach over to his console and ratchet up the speed until it hits eight. His eyes flare as his legs gradually start to pump harder and harder as I hop off my machine, swooping down to pick up mybags as I make a beeline towards the back stairs that lead to the club floor.
As I go to push open the door, I hear his parting words, laughing as he yells, “Same time tomorrow, Harp!” over his shoulder.
Same time tomorrow, Colt.
7
COLTON
“He’s not going to set those on fire, come on,” I mumble to myself, stopped in the middle of my living room with the vacuum just idling in my hand. My settling-in month ended about two weeks ago, and I’ve been making the rounds on my own ever since. I was grateful to have that time to make sure I could really learn and watch before diving in headfirst. Now all the duties are mine and mine alone.
Ironically, it’s been a great motivator for my work ethic.
I’ve been taking time every Sunday to watch videos of new tricks or trends that are taking off, which Tessa said is probably the best way to anticipate everyone’s needs. Holidays or seasonal shifts coming up that might influence the drink or tasting menus we offer. Popular movies or trends that would require new outfits be placed in the roleplay room. While the showroom has elegant gowns and high-end designer choices, the roleplay room is the more typical fetish options like doctor or nurse, firefighter, police officer and librarian. There is no reverse tease for that room to watch the outfit slide on, just a grand entrance in whatever theme has been selected.
I also try to stay ahead of music, seeing what is popular that should be queued up and optional for the private rooms. When I can’t stand to watch juggling anymore, which apparently now includes a fire element, I switch over to music, starting a playlist of current top hits and popping in my headphones.
At this point, I’ve done everything I can to anticipate other’s needs, even waking up earlier than should be legally allowed so I can meet Harper at the gym. This way I am starting my day with her, making her coffee, giving her a morning rundown from the night before in the order of most to least urgent tasks. It also gives me a chance to walk the club alone, finding areas that no one specifically told me about, or making note of spaces that are off-limits to patrons or staff members. I was able to walk through the storage area and see where everything went, gaps in spaces where things needed to be ordered.
Basically doing everything I can think of to distract me from just sitting outside Harper’s office like a lost puppy. Especially since I’m quite literally running after her every morning.
What started as a method to butter-up Harper has slowly turned into my favorite part of the day. Except for the cardio, I don’t care how pretty her eyes are or how shiny her hair looks as it sways, I will never like that part. My knees are getting ready to give up and hurl me down a flight of stairs, but my alone time with Harper has me waking up before the alarm even goes off to rush over to the club to hop right back on that treadmill next to hers.
When my car didn’t want to start yesterday, I ended up having to use a rideshare to get there, walking in 45 minutes later than usual. She looked surprised to see me, like she had accepted I wasn’t making it to our morning workout. But I swear her face lit up seeing me walk through those doors. I could have been imagining it though, since it was quickly replaced with cool indifference as she quietly mumbled something about me finallygiving up.
The truth is, I don’t think I would be able to stay away even if I did want to. I hated days like today when I didn’t get to see her.
I just smiled, not wanting to lay it on too thick, and just promised it would never happen, laying my hand over my heart and begging her for forgiveness. She just rolled her eyes, but as she turned away I got a glimpse of it,my smile. Good to know begging works.