Page 13 of The Trust (As Above)
Mac
Do I do this on purpose?
Showered, dressed, and trying not to think about the fullness of my ass, I peek around the corner of the employee hallway that leads out onto the gym floor.
I could tell my part time bodyguard to meet me out back instead.
Just as I could insist that we start staying at my place.
But there’s something about slinking my way through the machines, passing people that might recognize me, and making it out alive without becoming a tourist attraction that has me doing this from time to time.
Seven a.m. is still too early for the gym rat population, right?
Seven in the morning is still too early for me , but hey, when the jeweler said they’d be willing to see me about my custom request before the doors opened, I happily agreed. I don’t sleep much once Jordan gets out of bed anyway.
My phone buzzes with another notification and I silently curse. Take a breath. Then step out into the light with my shoulders straight and my head up.
The familiar clink of metal on metal accompanied by the occasional grunt follows each of my steps as I make my way across the filled floor, and I sweat just a little bit.
Fuck, there’s more people here than normal .
But when I lock eyes with one of the patrons, some of the weight lifts from my shoulders. I even offer a little finger wave to Poe as I walk, his headphones securely over his ears and a soft grin aimed my way.
I think he recognizes me. Knows who I am.
Which makes it even cooler that he holds space for me without going crazy like a lot of others do. Even if he goes home and tells everyone he worked out with the drummer from As Above .
Shit, Poe seems cool as fuck, and I’d go home with him just to prove him right.
Spotting the backwards hat of my man at the reception desk, I resist the urge to jump into his arms with a sloppy kiss. Instead, he glances up as if he can sense me nearby and I shoot a wink in his direction.
There’s a soft pink that takes over his cheeks, my second favorite color, and a grin attempts to tug at the corner of his lips.
“Hey, aren’t you that gay drummer?”
My steps falter.
“Excuse me?”
“It is you, isn’t it?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand as I turn to face the gym bro and drag in a sigh.
I know I shouldn’t judge considering the love of my life literally owns and runs this place, but some people just fit the stereotype.
Y’know the ones with shirts two sizes too small, veins practically outside of their skin, and a permanent redness that only accentuate the forever frown on their nearly popping faces.
The roid-fueled and overly jacked asshole that probably bullied every person that was just a little bit different than them since they could speak.
“Just go back to your reps, man,” I say dismissively and turn back around to leave.
Poe catches my attention as I hit the door, his eyes wide in worry, and I offer a reassuring smile.
He’s safe. Jordan won’t let anything happen to him here.