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Page 17 of Gym Bros (Bay Area Bros #2)

He’s right. Calyx won’t expect much. I just need to not look like I’m going to the gym.

I have no game plan for this, which, believe it or not, is not my normal approach to potentially stressful situations—ones where I want to win. I don’t go into a sparring match hoping for the best, relying on my instincts or whatever, and I rarely even take a walk without a pre-planned route.

But I am impulsive in the more general sense.

Agreeing to come out tonight, for example—impulsive.

The problem with my impulses, though, is that they have about a fifty-fifty success rate.

When I used to start fights in school, the odds were just as good that I’d get my ass handed to me as the other way around.

I’ve definitely improved my odds in that department, but take picking up a girl for example.

Fifty-fifty. It works as often as it doesn’t.

It’s hard to tell before I start talking to someone whether they’ll be into me or not, but I get a feel for it within about a minute.

Calyx is not into me, but I wasn’t into Evan either, and I still enjoyed the blow job. I’m hoping for a situation sort of like that.

Women aren’t as hard to read as the guys I’ve known in my life have made them out to be. Some like the tattooed, athletic MMA thing, some want the guy with a huge bank account and a starched dress shirt. I honestly never know until they start playing with their hair or asking snarky questions.

What I do know is Calyx is the equivalent of the snarky question girl, and I’m pretty sure he goes for bank accounts and dress shirts, but honestly, I can’t even tell whether he’s bi or gay or straight or what.

Although there were hints at brunch with the story Rachel and Priya told.

I don’t think a woman came on his ass from kissing him.

It is easier to imagine him with a man. Rachel and Priya would probably know for sure, and from what I gathered today, they’d definitely tell me. I just have to think of a way to ask without seeming like I’m interested.

Or do I want them to know I’m interested?

No. No, definitely not. I don’t want Calyx getting tough on me again. God forbid we need to have a “talk” where he puts me in my place. I’d crumble.

I flip the phone camera back to my face and tell Evan I need to get going. He moves just enough to where I get a glimpse of his bare back and bare ass and a ring light. “Wait—what are you doing?”

“I was live when you called,” he says.

“Doing what?”

“Not much. That’s why I answered, but I have one of my regulars coming on in fifteen minutes.”

I want to know more and wish I had time to ask, but if I have to clean up my shoes, I need to get off the phone. “Nice ass.”

He grins. “Sorry, not sorry.”

“How much can you squat?” I ask.

“Two-fifty. You?”

“Three-twenty.”

“Fuck. Seriously?”

I grin. “I gotta go. Thanks for helping. ”

“You’re welcome. Have fun and happy fucking birthday! If you strike out, text me, I’ll give you birthday head.”

I laugh. “How many kinds are there?”

“You’re gonna love being queer, Saber. Let me know how it goes tonight.”

We hang up, and I pick up my shoes, doing my best to make them look less like shit.

The club is actually nice. The way Calyx talked about it, I expected something seedy, but it’s the kind with a VIP list and bottle service.

To my surprise, I’m on the list, and I’m shown to a circular booth off the main dance floor where Calyx, Rachel, and Priya are already drinking cocktails around the low table.

Rachel hops up to greet me, wishing me a happy birthday again. She looks totally different than earlier. With her hair done and make-up on, she’s hot. So is Priya. They’re both knockouts, but Calyx… He’s something else entirely.

I’ve been around models my entire life—not including my dad, and they do stand out, but the way Calyx stands out is the goddamn sun. There’s no containing him.

He stands and smiles at me while Rachel gives up her seat in the booth next to him and pushes me toward it. “Look at you,” he says.

Me? When he looks like that ?

His sheer white shirt isn’t much more than an overlay.

Like a filter. It’s skin-hugging and completely see through—abs, nipples, collarbones, all visible.

He’s also wearing black pants, but his are purposely oversized, fashionable I’m guessing, cinched with a gold-buckled belt around his tiny waist.

And of course, there’s the small matter of his face. His lips are glossy, and his lashes are thick and lush. His gorgeous blonde waves fall perfectly to frame him—like his stylist is a genius with bone structure. He’s so fucking perfect, it makes him almost impossible to look at.

I don’t have any idea what to say, so I don’t say anything, and I try really hard not to stare. Even my dick is standing down, like it’s intimidated.

I sit, and he and Rachel are quick to follow. Priya is talking to a waitress, gesturing at us as she does. Calyx sits close, his legs crossed toward me, our hips and shoulders touching. “Don’t try to keep up with the girls,” he warns me. “They have robot livers.”

It’s a good reminder because I’m not much of a drinker.

My first hangover when I was seventeen was incredibly bad, so I’ve been overly cautious since.

In terms of drinking tonight, I want to loosen up and be able to talk casually like I did at brunch, but I don’t want to lose all my impulse control.

There are already several bottles of water on the table.

I grab an unopened one and crack the lid.

“How’s your day been since we saw you?” Calyx asks.

I realize I haven’t said a single word yet, so I go ahead and do that. “Good. I took a nap.”

“Me, too. Those mimosas laid me the fuck out. Better now?”

“Yeah,” I say. “How often do you come here?”

“I’ve only been a few times. Not recently. These two are the partiers. I’m usually good for a drink or two, but my dancing days are few and far between. But you tell me—what do you think?”

I take a look around the huge multi-storied club with its cages suspended from all corners hovering just above the dance floor.

The dancers are naked, or mostly. Covered in glitter that catches the lights.

Male, female and other or neither. The dance floor is full but not packed like the lines to the bars.

It’s definitely an under thirty crowd. A meat market.

Our table is getting a lot of glances from men and women alike.

No one looks particularly predatory, but I switch into a more vigilant mode.

Part of me wants to put my arm behind Calyx—it doesn’t have to be on him, but on the booth behind him.

It would serve no purpose whatsoever, but it’d make me feel better.

Not that sitting next to him is bad. It’s fine.

“Big place,” I say in answer to his question.

“Do you dance?”

“No.”

“What, never? Not even at home in your underwear while you’re waiting for the microwave?”

I blink and stare down at him.

He grins. “Just me, then?”

“Your pink underwear?” I ask.

He winks at me. “They’re not pink tonight.”

Jesus Christ.

A tray of shots appears, and Priya passes it around. Every drink looks different.

“What is this?” Calyx asks. “The variety pack?”

“I ordered one of everything,” she says.

He snorts.

“Love it,” Rachel says, reaching for a tall shot glass with something creamy inside. Calyx winds up with something the exact same shade of dark pink as his lips, and I grab a vaguely purple one.

Priya toasts to my birthday, and we drink. Mine tastes like blueberries, and I scan the tray for what I want to try next. I need two shots and twenty minutes minimum, and then I think I might actually be able to hold a conversation about something other than Calyx’s underwear.

Rachel grabs my hand once I’ve had my second shot. “Come walk the room with me.”

“Me?”

She tugs on me. Hard. “Yes. ”

I slide out of the booth after her and follow her to the perimeter of the dance floor. “So, you like my friend, huh?”

“I, um…”

“Calyx,” she clarifies.

Fuck me, is it that obvious? “I—he?—”

“No, I get it,” she says. “But just as a caveat, you’re about as far from his usual type as Mars.”

I figured. “What is his type?” I ask, unable to stop myself from taking the opening even if I might be admitting something with the question.

“You know, older. Very handsome. Rich. Boring. Married.”

“Married?” I ask.

“He might be slightly cynical.”

I glance back at the table, and Calyx is watching me—or us, but he turns back to Priya when we make eye contact.

“None of that surprises me,” I tell her. Does it disappoint me? A little. But it fits.

“So…you’re interested, but not like interested .”

I shrug. That’s as good of a way to put it as any. “I have a lot going on, you know. Or I will once I get back to my training schedule.”

“What do you do when you’re not training to kick somebody’s ass?” she asks.

“I like baseball. Going to games. I have a new dog I’m kind of obsessed with.”

“Do you know how to have fun?” she asks.

“Fun?”

“Yeah—like—you looked like you enjoyed the goat shenanigans. A few good laughs, right?”

“I loved it,” I tell her. “Any reason to get outside—animals especially.”

“My theory on Calyx is he grew up too fast,” she says.

“That’s why he dates all these old men because he doesn’t know how to have fun.

Or—maybe more like he doesn’t know what he likes—what even would be fun, because I swear to God, when he invited us to goat yoga, I almost shit myself I was so surprised. ”

“It was his idea.”

“Was it, though?” she asks.

“Well, I mean I asked if it was a thing.”

She nods. “That’s what I thought. But I haven’t seen him giggle in a hot minute, and he was giggling today.”

“What are you getting at?” I ask.

“Well, I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t know if you’ve got an actual shot with him, genuinely, no clue. But…if you can make him laugh…maybe…who knows right?”

“I don’t think I made him laugh,” I tell her. “Pretty sure it was the goats.”

“I wanna help you, Saber,” she says.

“I never said I was int?—”

“You, my friend, popped a boner the second he mentioned his underwear today. I don’t miss this shit. But he told us we needed to loosen you up, so how’re you feeling? Tight? Loose? Where we at?”

I gesture to my chest. “He thinks I need to loosen up?”

“That was the assignment. So do you need another shot or what?”

“I—maybe.”

This is a lot .

“Have you dated a model before?” she asks as we walk slowly back in the direction of the table.

“No. I’ve never dated a guy, either.”

“Oh! But I’m not wrong, am I?”

“You’re not wrong about me being interested, but dating isn’t really?—”

“I get it. You’re twenty-one. Just—look—don’t take him personally, okay? He’s just jaded. ”

“So, when he shoots me down…”

“I’m happy to accompany you home,” she says with a grin.

I laugh, feeling the alcohol kick in with a light buzzing in my brain and limbs. “Thanks.”

At the table, I pick another fruity shot off the tray and inhale it before switching back to water.

Calyx gives Rachel a suspicious look. “What was that about?”

“Have you ever just wanted to hit something?” she asks him.

“Like with my hands?”

“Yeah, like a punching bag, like he does,” she says, gesturing at me.

“No,” Calyx says, “But did he tell you he used to do kung fu?”

“Technically I still do,” I say.

“I think that’s badass,” Calyx says.

I glance at him, surprised.

The back of Rachel’s hand hits my chest with a thud. “You should teach him something. Trade lessons. You learn a little yoga, then teach him how to break a board with his pretty hands.”

“I actually do know how to do that. You might like Kung Fu,” I tell Calyx. “The sun salutation reminded me of it. It’s very graceful.”

“I just said I did like it.”

I take a deep breath and look down at the tray of drinks. On that fucking note. I set the water down and grab another shot.

His lovely hand covers it before I bring it to my mouth. “That came out wrong,” he says. “What would you teach me?” His entire body turns to face me, and I can’t keep my gaze from dragging down the lithe line of him.

I swallow, trying to quell both my lust and the raging insecurity he brings out in me. “There’s a couple basic forms that don’t involve any weapons,” I say .

His eyes widen. “Weapons?”

“Yeah, like nunchucks and sabers …”

His smile is gorgeous and adorable at the same time. “Oh, I get it. So, not a dick reference then.”

I almost choke on my own saliva. “What?”

He laughs, tossing his head back and exposing his throat. I wanna suck on it so fucking bad. But then he’s grabbing my shirt and trying to shake me. “Come on, that was funny. Your face . Laugh , Samuel.”

Obviously I don’t budge at his attempt to jostle me into—what, laughing? “Maybe I’ll start laughing when you stop making fun of me.”

“Ugh, God…I suck at talking to you. What do we have in common? Think of one thing. Help.”

How many shots has he had? Because from what I’ve seen of him, this is pretty damn loose.

“We both like to work out,” I say.

“Do you like this song?” he asks.

I’ve never heard it before, but it doesn’t suck. “Yeah, it’s fucking great.”

“Then why aren’t you dancing?”

“Why aren’t you?”

“You wanna dance with me?” he asks, like no way I’ll say yes.

But I get up and gesture to the pulsing dance floor.

He stares at me like I just suggested he get in one of the cages. “Wait—seriously? I thought you said you didn’t.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t.”

“Now you have to, baby doll,” Rachel says to Calyx.

His face has gone red, but he follows me out of the booth. I take his hand because fuck him, and lead him into the mass of moving bodies.

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