Page 1 of Just A Little Joy

ONE

TRAVIS

“Mind if I join you in here?”

The question startled me out of my catnap, and I peered through the steam of the sauna to see who was speaking at the door, letting in a rush of cold air. The face looking back at me was open and friendly, framed by a bright smile. I’d noticed him earlier while I was doing my circuit training, though we hadn’t spoken. It was hard not to miss that easy grin he seemed to gift to everyone who crossed his path, including me a few times.

But even that tiny break had felt like something I had no business taking, which said more about how stretched thin I already was than anything else.

“Not at all. Come on in.”

The man slipped inside and shut the door behind him. We were both wrapped in white towels, and he settled on the bench across from me. The smile I had seen earlier was still plastered across his face, or maybe it was just permanently settled there. He eased back against the cedar walls and let out a hefty sigh.

“Thanks for letting me crash in here. The other one was a little too crowded.”

He gave me an assessing look, as if trying to figure out who I was. I didn’t want to be the guy who said, “Oh yeah, I used tobe kinda famous, that’s why you’re trying to place me,” so I kept quiet. There was something too observant in the way he watched people, like he picked up tension before anyone named it.

“Do I know you from somewhere other than the gym?” After asking, he closed his eyes without waiting for an answer. Wrapped in his towel, and since he couldn’t see me anyway, I took my time giving him the once-over.

He wasn’t tall, maybe five eight or nine, but his chest was broad like a barrel. His arms were thick and dusted with dark hair. From what I could see, his waist was trim, his thighs deliciously thick, and his calves solid muscle. His chest, though, was smooth. That was a bummer only because I liked a man with a furry chest. Still, nobody was perfect. A few tattoos marked his skin—his forearm, one just below his collarbone, and thank god for towels, a peekaboo glimpse of one along his upper thigh. He was built like a sexy-as-fuck brick house. One story.

“It’s probably here. I’m in a lot.”

“Oh, yeah, I know I’ve seen you around this place, but that’s not it. It’ll come to me.”

He still hadn’t opened his eyes, so I kept ogling him. Maybe not the most polite thing ever, but anyone who saw him would understand the temptation. When he spread his legs farther apart and his towel slipped even more, I almost swallowed my tongue. It was a shame this wasn’t that kind of bathhouse because I wouldn’t have minded seeing what was under the towel.

“How long are you going to stare at me?” he asked conversationally.

Fucking hell. I’d spent so much time willing that towel to open a little more that I hadn’t noticed his eyes weren’t closed anymore.

“Oh shit. Sorry.”

“No worries. I know my leg days have been lacking.”

“Your leg days are fine.” I paused before adding, “Staring was rude. The tattoo caught my attention, and I forgot to look away.”

“Oh, this? You should’ve said something.” He pulled the towel back to reveal a cloud with stick-figure legs, rainbow socks, and untied sneakers. So random. So odd. But kinda cute.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, that’s not what I imagined.”

“Yeah? What did you think it was?”

“No clue, but not that.” And because I was tired of calling him guy, I added, “I’m Travis, by the way.”

“Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Casey.”

“Casey, but what does it mean?” I nodded toward the tattoo.

“It means I like cute shit, and this, my friend, is some cute shit.”

His grin widened, and this time I noticed how his white teeth contrasted with his sun-kissed skin. How the hell had I missed the dimples? They popped out on both cheeks every time his mouth even slightly curled. His dark-brown eyes shone like he had a secret, and I wondered if he did. It felt like he could suss out mine pretty quickly.

“Nothing wrong with that,” I answered.

“You don’t have any?”

“Cute shit?”