Page 12

11

T hinking about Kevin wowing me with his wicked new gay skills or surprising me with his XXXL power tool kept me distracted all day.

I was so distracted that my guard was down when Jasper came in after his spin class to cajole me into another weekend gym date, I wasn’t firm enough with him, and a few days later it was Saturday and he showed up on my doorstep, ready to chauffeur me to the gym. Whether I liked it or not.

I didn't like it, as I informed Jasper once I’d wrestled the door open, still in my pyjamas. I added that I had a big day planned of many interesting and blood-pressure lowering activities, none of which took place in a gym.

“Not a problem,” he said, and got his phone out of his pocket.

Good. He caved nicely. I must be getting my unapproachable grump on.

I’d started to worry about people suddenly thinking they could push me about, making me go to the gym, fixing my cabinets and…and stuff.

The world was back to how it should be. Nature was healing. Jasper was smiling. I?—

Why was Jasper smiling?

“Who are you calling?” I demanded.

“Hmm? Oh. Kevin.”

I lunged for his phone.

He put a hand in the centre of my chest, holding me back.

“What do you think you’re doing? Leave Kevin out of this!”

You’re coming, then?”

“No.”

He shrugged and theatrically lifted his phone.

“Jasper.”

“Charlie, you’re coming to the gym. You asked me to make you. I’m fulfilling my vow.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Yes, you did. Look.” He turned his phone to me and pressed play.

I was on the screen, banging a milk jug smartly on the counter and yelling over the sound of the bean grinder. I faced away from the camera and my auburn hair was sticking up weirdly in the back.

…be realistic about it, Jasper. The gym is not my thing. I don’t belong there. It’s so not my thing, the only way I’m going to show up once a week is if someone carries me there kicking and screaming.”

“Kicking and screaming. Got it. Will do.”

“Does my hair always look like that?” I said when he removed his phone from my face.

“Only on a bad day,” he said cheerfully, and muscled past me into the house. “Phil!” he called, following it up with those loud kissy noises he was unfortunately prone to making. “Phil, where are you?”

“Do come in, please,” I said, closing the door.

Jasper ignored me as he went striding down the hall. He poked his head into the sitting room. “Phil? Come and have a cuddle!”

“He’s in the garden watching the squirrels raid the bird feeder,” I said over my shoulder and stomped up the stairs.

I leaped into the shower for a quick refresh, dried off and dragged on my gym kit, sighing dramatically when I realised I now had clothes that I referred to as ‘my gym kit’.

I glanced out the window on my way out, and paused.

Phil had Jasper on the ground. From this angle, all I could see of Jasper was a pair of long legs sticking out from under my giant dog, and a pair of hands that he’d dug into the thick ruff around Phil’s neck and was jiggling.

A couple of Phil’s squirrel friends were perched on the bird feeder, snacking on peanuts as they watched the idiots on the lawn.

I shook my head and marched back down the stairs.

In the kitchen, I opened and shut the treat cupboard once, and waited.

Phil bolted in.

Jasper followed, slapping at his shorts and the front of his shirt, knocking off grass and dog hair. “Your lawn needs mowing.”

“Thanks for the critique. It was on the docket for this morning but someone decided to show up and ruin my day. It’s just going to have to wait until next Saturday. Shame.”

He snorted. “You may as well do it tomorrow, because guess what’s happening next Saturday?”

“I won’t be answering the front door?”

“That’s all right. Phil will let me in. Won’t you, Phil? Huh? Yes, you will.”

He would if he could work out how to operate a door handle. Phil would let anyone in, up to and including Satan.

“You’ve got a nice little house here, Charlie,” Jasper said out of nowhere.

“If you’re about to expand the critique of my gardening to include my?—”

“No, no. Not a critique! A suggestion. An idea. It came to me out of the blue. I know you’re way too busy to think about renovations now that your parents are off living in Spain and Amalie abandoned you?—”

“She didn’t abandon me.”

Jasper gave me a look.

Yeah. She walked out and left me in a tough situation.

If anyone else dared to criticise my sister I’d tell them to fuck right off, but this was Jasper. Besides, his staunch loyalty was endearing.

His unsubtle determination to get something going between me and Kevin, however, was not.

“—and I thought: lightbulb! Why not ask Kevin? As a buddy. As a friend. A friend with tools. I’m sure he’d love to help out.”

Oh, he would.

“You’ve had those doors off the kitchen cabinets practically since you moved in,” he continued. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have them functioning?”

He gestured expansively around the kitchen.

I waited

“Oh!” he said.

There we go.

“You fixed them!”

“I—” oh, bollocks. “Uh. They are fixed, yes.” If I told him that Kevin did it?—

Jasper grinned at me. “Kevin did it for you, didn’t he?”

I could lie, but what was the point?

Jasper was, after all, the most famous investigative journalist in all of Oxfordshire.

Mostly famous for being almost sued by Ray when he accused Ray of being a serial killer after the bodies were discovered in his house.

And then being almost sued by Ray’s dad when he accused Ray and Ray’s dad of being a father-son murder team when the third body was discovered in his garden.

But famous was famous.

“Yes,” I said.

Jasper looked far too excited to hear this. He bustled around the kitchen, opening and shutting all of the cabinets admiringly.

“Are you done?” I asked once he’d completed his nosy circuit.

“Yep. It looks much better in here with the doors on, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. I’m ecstatic.”

“Speaking of doors, you should get Kevin over to have a look at the front. You took so long to get it open, I nearly gave up and came around the back.”

“It’s the damp.”

“It’s not damp today.”

“Fine. Maybe it’s dropped on the hinges a bit. And no, I’m not going to take advantage of Kevin and use him as my own personal handyman.”

“Think he’d enjoy that a lot, actually.”

I pressed my lips together into a firm line and set my hands on my hips. “Jasper,” I said.

“Charlie?”

“I sense that you’re trying to say something.”

“I am. You like Kevin.”

“Of course I do. Who doesn’t like Kevin? He’s an extremely likeable man. Now, are we going to the gym, or…?”

“Yes!” Phil was leaning with his head tucked into the back of Jasper’s knees. Jasper bent down and grabbed his face, angling it up. He gave him a quick smooch on top of his head. “Bye, buddy.”

Bye? Phil knew that word. He sighed glumly and slid to the floor.

I glanced over to check he had water in his bowl as I locked up the back, told him to continue his excellent work of being a very good boy, and followed Jasper out into the hall.

Unfortunately, he was still talking. “I think you like -like Kevin.”

I grunted noncommittally and nudged him out the front. He watched while I yanked the door shut behind me and got it to engage on the third heave. I ignored his pointed look and shooed him down the drive.

“We’ll take my car,” he said.

“I’m not falling for that twice in a row.” He would definitely strand me at the gym again and try to make Kevin drive me home.

I lost Jasper at the traffic lights and sat there waiting for it to turn green, debating whether or not it was worth hanging a left and ducking home.

Who was I kidding?

I wouldn’t admit it even under torture but despite what I’d been yelling on that unflattering video Jasper showed me, I had enjoyed myself last time.

Not a lot, but…yeah.

I dutifully turned right and headed for the gym. Ten minutes later I slung my gym bag over my shoulder and went inside. Jasper had been cornered in Reception by a group of elderly folk whose kit, embarrassingly enough, was way more fashionable than my half-arsed shorts-and-t-shirt combo. I caught his eye, hitched a thumb in the direction of the men’s changing room, and left him to his fan club.

Part of me was expecting to walk in and find Kevin naked and manspreading again.

Let’s not be coy here—part of me very much hoped that I would.

As it turned out, Kevin was indeed in the changing room when I walked in, but this was the Kevin Wallis I was more used to, not the new and inexplicably sexual Kevin, who fingered my pastries and pushed me around my kitchen and put his tongue in my mouth.

He was on the other side of the room and although my eyes went straight to him, he didn’t notice me. He was with a group of lads about his age, a couple of them younger. All of them in their early twenties.

My skin prickled and my spine straightened. My hackles went up.

This was Kevin in his natural habitat. Where he belonged.

This was Kevin with his people, on his turf, in his element. He was the centre of a gaggle of gym bros comparing biceps, or discussing the finer points of beer, or whatever it was they were making such a noise about.

Gripping the strap of my gym bag like it was trying to get away from me, I stalked over to the nearest bench. I kept my back to the room as I fiddled about with my phone and water bottle, and managed to drag it out until the noise of voices and laughter rose then faded away as the lads exited, and Jasper came to find me.

We were here an hour later than last Saturday. Seeing how busy it was in the main gym had me making a mental note that, if I was going to be stupid enough to put myself through this again, I’d come in earlier. Maybe right after opening, if I could haul my arse out of bed.

“What time does the gym open?” I asked, trailing after Jasper as he led the way to the mats. If I came closer to opening time, it would be less crowded.

“On a Saturday? Six. During the week, five.”

“In the morning ?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of psychopath gets out of bed and rushes to the gym at five in the morning ?”

Jasper pointed at himself.

“Well, obviously you. I already know you’re not normal.”

He nudged me. “Thanks.”

“Welcome. Seriously, though? Five in the morning?”

“Charlie, you’re at the coffee shop at five sometimes. I’ve driven past and seen the lights on.”

“Because I have to be, not because I want to be. I can’t think of a damn thing I’d willingly get up for at five in the morning.”

“Really? Nothing? Not one thing?”

“Nope,” I said confidently.

“Not even a blow job?”

I nearly tripped. “No!”

“Huh,” Jasper said. “It’s my favourite way to start the day.”

“I’m sure it is,” I said crisply. “Not mine.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Have you…?” He trailed off delicately.

I knew what he was about to ask. And I absolutely refused to tell him. Whether or not I’d experienced a blow job at any time of the day really wasn’t anyone’s business but mine.

We’d made it to the mats by then, and the expression on my face must have made this clear, because Jasper shrugged and said, “Never mind. Let’s get started with your stretches.” He dropped to the mat and patted it encouragingly.

I sighed and got on the floor with ever so slightly less grace and enthusiasm.

He took me through the same routine as last time, keeping up his usual bright chatter. The uneasy, defensive mood that had gripped me at the sight of Kevin back to being the Kevin I was familiar with rather than my own personal—if baffling—Kevin faded into the background.

We stretched, we did a little cardio, and we eventually ended up by the weights area, arriving there as a small group was moving off.

Of course, it was the group Kevin was in.

“Hi, Charlie,” he said with his usual sweet smile as we passed each other.

“Hi,” I said with my usual scowl.

And that was it.

Very different from last week’s ooh feel my biceps, let me check out your arse, touch my stomach extravaganza.

I wasn’t disappointed.

Under Jasper’s guidance, I worked my way through the same routine. Curls, deadlifts, rows, twists.

It was even more ghastly than I remembered.

Once I’d finished with the dumbbells, he made me lie down on a bench that was unpleasantly warm and damp from the previous user, and he spotted me while I groaned and shook my way through a set of bench presses.

I had an unflattering view straight up Jasper’s nose as he stood at the head of the bench, ready to help me lift or to catch the barbell if my arms noodled out. I could only imagine that the view he had of me was equally unflattering. My face was hot and red and I was baring my teeth at him with effort. And, if I’m honest, with a little bit of a threat display.

He seemed to find the whole thing amusing, and I realised why when I was done and he casually lifted the bar with one hand, and set it back in the cradle.

“You’re doing great!” he told me.

I threw an arm over my sweating face to get a break from the glaring overhead lights. “Fuck off.”

“Ready for squats?”

“I am ready,” I said, “for bed.”

“We’ve been here for forty minutes.”

“I have been here since the beginning of time.”

“Come on. One set of squats and we’re done.” He tugged at my arm and said, “Ew,” when his hand slipped. He grabbed a towel and wiped me down.

I cranked up to sitting, gasping when my abdominal muscles squealed in protest. I snatched the towel off him. “Don’t blot me.”

“Fine.” He picked up my water bottle, and all but fed it to me like a baby. “Drink.”

“Oh my god.”

“You’re sweating a lot.”

“I am, if you haven’t noticed, astoundingly unfit. Of course I’m sweating. You just put me through hell. I didn’t sign up for your bootcamp.”

He snorted. “I don’t think you’d last five minutes in one of my bootcamps. Please drink your water.”

I could never resist Jasper being earnest. I lifted the bottle and drained it.

I was almost to the bottom when my eye fell on Kevin across the room. Again. As it had repeatedly done throughout my entire workout, apart from when I was on my back.

He was taking his turn on the battle ropes now, and it was a sight to behold.

He stood in a slight squat, arms moving regularly as he worked the ropes in big rippling waves at high speed.

I tilted my head. It was like a beautiful yet deadly ribbon dance.

I didn’t really know how battle ropes worked, and it wasn’t something I was all that interested in trying out. Maybe, if I became a seasoned gym pro, I’d one day move on to all the daunting-looking machines, and start flapping ropes and tossing medicine balls around, like the guy over there who let out a low scream as he hurled one at the wall, making me flinch. But probably not.

I was thinking about taking up yoga instead of all this gym nonsense.

Ray did yoga. I should ask him about it. He seemed chilled out most of the time these days. Then again, it was possible that was down to Adam rather than yoga.

“I’m thinking of taking up yoga,” I announced to Jasper. “I think that might be more my speed.”

Kevin smoothly segued into a different move. Instead of sending out alternate waves down the length of the rope, he was lifting his arms and slamming them down at the same time.

Now he looked like he was having a tantrum. Category five.

No wonder he was built the way he was.

“Cool,” Jasper said. “You still have to do cardio and weights, though.”

Bollocks.

Kevin worked himself to some sort of crescendo, then dropped the ropes like they were hot and stood back, visibly breathing hard as he accepted the congratulations of his buddies, who jostled amongst themselves to be next. He shook his arms out and grabbed a bottle of water, tipped his head back, and squirted a stream right down his throat. He kept on squirting and swallowing without even taking a break to close his mouth.

My eyes widened.

“If we get on and do your squats,” Jasper said, “we’ll be finished in time for you to make the ten o’clock beginners’ class with Mel. She’s amazing.”

I pulled a face. “I didn’t mean get into it right now. Besides, I was thinking more me, a yoga mat on my sitting room floor, and YouTube.”

“Valid,” Jasper said. “If you can stop Phil climbing on top of you. But it might be worth getting an instructor to give you some pointers on alignment.”

“You do it, then,” I said, trailing after him over to the squat rack.

“All right,” he said amiably.

“I’m going to have to start paying you at some point, aren’t I?”

“Nah,” he said. “This is fun.”

Fun? Dragging my bitching, complaining arse to the gym and having to baby me through every single exercise, fun?

Jasper always was a little weirdo, I thought fondly.

“Thanks, Jasper,” I said.

He selected some weight plates and loaded the barbell. Before he let me have it, he demonstrated a squat and had me join him a couple of times, then he took hold of the barbell and busted out a few reps to show me how it was done. His big thighs bunched and flexed as he worked up and down, effortlessly lifting the weight he had resting over his shoulders.

“Your turn,” he said.

All right. I could do this. No problem. I held out my hands for him to pass me the barbell.

He didn’t. He set it back on the rack, and passed me a bar.

“Uh,” I said. “The end bits are missing?”

“I want you to get your form right first before you try lifting.”

“I already showed you my form with the squats.”

“Now show me your form with a barbell.”

I hefted the bar over my shoulders and did a squat. “There. Can I have my weights now?”

“No. That was terrible. Do it again.”

I did it again.

“No, you’re doing it wrong.” Jasper stood in front of me. He did a quick squat. “Like this.”

I did one, straightened, and raised a brow.

“Okay, you need to see it from the side. Like this.” He turned and showed me from the side.

I did another one. “What?” I snapped when he didn’t tell me I was doing a good job. “What am I missing?”

“Okay, what’s happening is, you’re bending and straightening.”

“Definition of a squat,” I said promptly.

“No, you’re kind of cranking your upper body up and down when you bend your knees, and what you’re supposed to be working is your arse and hamstrings.”

“Right. Like this.” I did another one.

“Nope. Hold on.” Jasper moved behind me and put his hands on my hips. “Now try it.”

Once upon a time, having Jasper sweating and hot behind me—also sweating and hot—would have done things to me. Right now, it made me want to tread on his foot and stalk off back to the changing room.

I tried a squat, and squawked when his fingers on my hips firmed and he tugged them back towards him as I bent my knees.

“Stick your arse out, Charlie,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound good for my back.” I straightened.

“Don’t hollow it, but you have to push your arse out, keeping your chest as straight as you can, or you’re crouching. This is a squat, not a crouch.”

I’d had no idea that bending over could be so complicated.

I gave it another shot.

“Almost,” Jasper said.

“For god’s sake.” I straightened and swung the bar off my shoulders. “What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re not doing anything with your arse.” He gave it a light slap. “You’re leaving it out of the equation altogether, when it should be front and centre. Push it out more. You’re going to feel like it’s too much, and when you get there, do it even more. Think about hinging at your hips to get your thighs parallel to the ground, and thrust your way up to standing. Put your glutes into it. Do another one without the bar.”

I did it again.

“Stay down there,” Jasper said, “and I’ll adjust you.”

I did as he said, even though my thighs waited all of three seconds before they started complaining.

Five seconds, and they were quivering.

Jasper got behind me again and pulled my hips back. My arse was pressed high into his thighs. “That’s better. Yeah. Like that. Good, Charlie. You feel that? Feel good? Oh. Hi, Kevin. I totally didn’t see you there.”

A pair of black trainers appeared out of nowhere on the mat in front of me, and my eyes tracked up to Kevin’s face. I tried to stand up but Jasper was still gripping my hips and instead of standing, I flailed. Kevin’s hands shot out and caught my shoulders, supporting me.

Well.

This felt like a compromising position. This was less of a squat and more of a crouching forward fold.

I engaged my tired and quietly sobbing core muscles and tried again to stand, but neither of them loosened their grip and I just spasmed between them. I threw out a hand to catch myself. It landed on Kevin’s thigh. “Guys?” I said. “I’d like to stand up now. This is weird.”

Last week, it had looked like we were having a three-way gym date, all mashed up together in the corner of the room, flexing our biceps at each other. Today wasn’t quite that subtle.

Today, it looked like I was on the brink of being spit-roasted.

“I’ve got him,” Kevin said. “You can let go, Jasper.”

“Nobody needs to be holding me, actually,” I said. “I can stand. I really can. All I need is a little room, and?—”

Jasper tugged me closer. My legs had partially straightened, putting my arse a couple of inches shy of his groin. I grunted as he pulled me even more off balance. The forward fold deepened. “I’ve got him,” he said. “You move back and he’ll have room.”

“Guys.”

Kevin shifted closer. His fingers tightened on my shoulders. “That’s okay, Jasper,” he said. “ I’ve got him.”

“Guys, come on.” I gave it another go, but my centre of gravity was who knows where at this point, my upper body had folded over a couple more inches, and I’d be nuzzling Kevin’s gym shorts any minute. “Argh. Kevin, help.”

Kevin quickly stepped back, bent his knees, slid his hands under my arms, and lifted me straight up.

“Thanks,” I said. He could have just stepped back. He didn’t have to lift me.

“Thanks, Kev,” Jasper said cheerfully. “Seeing as you’re here, do you want to…“

His words fuzzed out into white noise. Kevin was still holding me, his hands high on my ribs and under my arms. He was staring at me.

“Uh,” I said, and squirmed.

He tightened his grip.

Kevin’s cheeks were ruddy and his eyes were sharply focused on mine. To my horror I felt my eyelids quiver as the urge to look away rushed up out of nowhere.

Or not nowhere.

The corner of his stern mouth twitched. I could not get over stern Kevin. I could not. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. He probably knew better than I did.

Jasper was still talking. I tuned in with extreme effort.

“…get behind him for me and?—”

“Nope,” I said, and tried to twist out of Kevin’s grip.

I was not going to let Kevin get behind me in the gym. I was on the fence about letting Kevin get behind me at all.

Okay, I wasn’t on the fence, I’d be thrilled about Kevin getting behind me, but in the same way as I’d be thrilled if someone presented me with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, a spoon, and fifteen to twenty minutes of personal time.

It sounded amazing, but it was a bad idea.

Kevin’s grip tightened to the point of being painful and I sucked in a gasp. He let me go at once.

He didn’t apologise.

“I can practice my squats at home, Jasper,” I said. “This was supposed to be the last exercise. I think it’s time for me to call it a day.”

“Oi, Kev!” Someone shouted from across the room. “Mate! Kevin! Mate!”

Kevin’s focus on me didn’t waver until I hinted, “I think someone’s trying to get your attention.”

“Right. I’ll see you later, Charlie,” Kevin said to me, and abruptly walked off.

“Bye, Kevin,” Jasper called after him.

Kevin’s shoulders under his dark red t-shirt tightened and he lifted a hand, but he didn’t turn or say anything.

For some inexplicable reason this seemed to please Jasper. “Someone’s in a mood,” he said as he racked the barbell.

“He did seem a bit off, didn’t he? I’m glad you said that. I thought it was just me.”

“It’s because of you.” Jasper strode off. I followed.

“I hardly think I can be held responsible for Kevin’s moods.”

“And yet. He didn’t like me getting all up in your back business.”

“Whaaaat?”

Jasper grinned down at me. “He didn’t like me standing behind you.”

“That’s stupid.”

“I know that and you know that. Maybe you should tell Kevin.” Jasper stopped walking and I bumped into him. “Hit the floor,” he said, gesturing at the same mats we’d started on.

“What? No, I’m leaving. This torture is over.”

“Not until you’ve done your cooldown.”

I glared at him.

He smiled back.

“Ugh.” I collapsed to the mat and let him boss me through a few stretches.

Thankfully, since we were wrapping things up, he let me half-arse them.

“Right,” he said once we were done. He flipped himself up to standing and reached down a hand. “Good job.” He hauled me up to my feet.

“Thank god. Is it over? Can I go home now?”

Jasper snorted a laugh. “Yes. You can go home, and I get to go and do the same all over again for paying clients.”

“Hey,” I stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I know I’ve done nothing but complain about it but really, I appreciate you doing this for me. I really do. I want to pay you.”

“Nope. I like hanging out with you, Charlie, you’re a good friend, and I absolutely refuse to let you pay me for it.”

“In that case, whenever you come into the shop, it’s on the house. I insist. Fair’s fair.” I thought about it. “Three pounds for an almond milk latte is nowhere near your hourly rate. Liam doesn’t have to pay either.” Still nowhere near his hourly rate, especially as Liam was grimly attempting to stay away from the pastries. Now that he was inching closer to forty, he didn’t spend half as much as he used to on muffins.

“Love that you offered, but I know that you’re still trying to…” He stopped and scratched the back of his neck. “I know that things with the business are still tight after Amalie abandoned you.”

“She didn’t abandon me,” I said automatically.

He sighed. “Charlie?—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Don’t blame you. I’d still be pretty mad about it, if it was me. Where is she now, anyway?”

I shrugged. “Ask Instagram.” If my sister wanted to keep in contact with me, she could take the trouble to text me, not expect me to follow her on social fucking media. “She’s happy, I think. That’s all that matters.”

Jasper said as we headed for the changing room, “You should get to be happy, too.”

“I’m fine.” I had Phil. I had my coffee shop. I had my house, which would hopefully stay standing for another five to ten years until my cash flow had stabilised and I could afford renovations.

What more could I want?

“Yeah. I know you’re fine. I said you should be happy . Which is why I think?—”

“Oh, hey. Is that your client waiting for you?” Jasper turned to look and I left him in Reception, speed-walking to the changing room before he finished his sentence with something along the lines of, I think you should sleep with Kevin .

I didn’t want to sleep with Kevin.

Okay, I did want to sleep with Kevin.

Jasper knew it, I knew it.

Kevin knew it.

It was just a terrible idea, for a number of reasons.

Coming in at number three on my Reasons Not To Sleep With Kevin list was the fact that, as far as I knew, Kevin was straight. He was awfully interested in my dick and watched a lot of gay porn for a straight guy, but still.

Straight.

At number two was my lack of practical experience in actual physical contact.

I wasn’t embarrassed about it, but if Kevin was looking to take a walk on the gay side, I wasn’t the right man to lead the way.

I was fairly sure he knew more than me at this point what with all the research he’d been doing.

And number one?

I was in love with him.

I was in love with him, and if things just stayed as they were, I could handle it. I’d handled being in love with Jasper, hadn’t I? So I could handle being in love with Kevin.

Even if I couldn’t stop thinking about his appalling dirty talk, his overwhelming kisses, and whatever the hell that was with the pastries.

I was a pro at this. I could handle it.

I would not sleep with Kevin.

Simple.