Page 47 of Hush

But Tom smiled and disappeared down the hallway, heading for the stairs.

It was his ‘turn’ to buy coffee Wednesday morning, according to the ritual they’d begun.

He could do the same thing he did Monday, buy Tom’s coffee and wait outside the gym.

Or… he could go into the gym early and work out. Run into Tom, perhaps. Maybe even check him out a bit in the locker room.

He was pathetic. Thirty-seven-years-old, and he was acting like a sophomore in high school.

Still, Mike went to the gym. He was too jumpy, and he dove into his weight routine with gusto, burning through his upper body routine in half the time he normally took. Sweating, panting, and finally burnt out of his nervous energy, he headed for the pool.

Four men and one woman were swimming laps in the lane pool. He picked Tom out after a few seconds, watching his long legs and his smooth movements in the water. He swam a simple breaststroke, ducking and turning at the walls and beginning again, back and forth across the pool. He was a machine, a dolphin with feet. Mike’s breathing slowed as he watched, but his heartrate stayed up.

Eventually, Tom stopped at one end of the pool and hauled himself out. Water sluiced off his body, rolling down his chest and his hips. He wore jammers, the just-above-the-knee skintight swimsuit favored by serious swimmers everywhere.

And, they left nothing to the imagination.

He was a deputy U.S. marshal, but here it was, the true test of his life—could he keep himself contained in front of a soaking wet, mostly naked, skintight-swimsuit-wearing Judge Tom Brewer?

Tom tore off his goggles and shook his head. His hair puffed out, fluffing into dark chestnut and silver spikes. Water clung to his sparse chest hair, running in drops down his chest and stomach, racing for his jutting hipbones and smooth thighs.

“Hey.” Mike hoped he didn’t look as utterly ridiculous as he felt. “Morning.”

Tom stopped dead, his jaw falling open. Shock poured from his chocolate eyes. He looked Mike up and down, as if he didn’t honestly believe Mike was truly there.

Shit. He shouldn’t have come to the gym. He shouldn’t have barged in and invaded Tom’s private time. He was way out of line.

“Mike?” Tom’s mouth worked slowly, searching for words. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d give the plaza gym a try.” He shrugged. “You said good things about it.”

Tom smiled. “What do you think?”

I’ll never work out anywhere else again, as long as I can watch you climb out of the pool like that.“Not bad!”

They walked to the locker rooms and then separated, heading to different lockers in different rows. Thank God.

The plaza gym’s facilities were of a higher caliber than he was used to. Private shower stalls and individual toiletries. Blow-dryers provided at a counter in front of a long line of mirrors. He met up with Tom at the mirrors as he was knotting his tie and sprucing his hair.

Mike asked Tom about his class and about Georgetown and his students as they walked across the street to the Annex lobby and the coffee shop. He batted Tom away when Tom reached for his wallet. “It’s my turn today.”

Tom smiled.

He wanted to ask if Tom wanted to go to his volleyball game tonight. He wanted to casually bring it up, throw it out there as a friendly invite. Just if Tom was interested, or didn’t have any plans already.

But he kept his mouth shut and listened to Tom the whole way up to the fourth floor.

[Any lunch plans? I’m going to run out and grab something off the Lebanese food truck. Want anything?]

After an hour and ten minutes of internal debate, Mike sent Tom his first text message. He hoped Tom would sayI’ll come down with youorBring it back up to my office and we’ll eat here.

Instead, Tom saidGetting a haircut, actually.

[Okay. No prob.]

Damn. He grabbed a protein bar out of his desk drawer and leaned back.

He was pushing too hard. He was coming on too strong. Tom was polite and kind and considerate, but he was pushing the envelope way too hard. He needed to take a giant step back. Tom wasn’t even interested in men. Kris was wrong. Kris was never wrong, but there was always a first time for everything.