Baby It's COVID Outside

Chapter 11 - Susie

There was something about the name Henry, I decided as I gazed at the Henry before me with sweat beading on his forehead as he squatted with weights. My eyes flickered to the Henry behind him on the screen who was looking equally appealing and decided that perhaps watching the Witcher hadn't been the best idea.

Too much testosterone and too much of ruggedly attractive men doing rugged, attractive man activities. Like weight lifting and stabby stabby things.

My attention drifted from the screen to the room again and I watched as Henry sat down and switched to a slightly smaller weight with curiosity. Every movement was precise, as though he had done it a thousand times before and it was essentially muscle memory now. Looking at how defined every inch of him was, I was fairly certain he did this frequently.

He raised his legs and began doing twists where he dipped the weight either side of his body. He was so focused, so intent he didn't notice my regular sideways glances. Even when they became sideways stares. I wasn't sure how he had managed to keep it up for nearly the entire first episode apart from two breaks where he gulped down water like he was dying of dehydration.

He switched again, glancing over at me and I quickly returned my attention to the screen and pretended I hadn't been looking.

When I finally dared to peek again, he stood with a weight in either hand, slowly lifting them one at a time in a curl that made his t-shirt strain as the muscle beneath it flexed.

I licked my lips. Was it hot in here or was it just me?

I tried to focus on the Witcher again but even the amazing plot couldn't keep my eyes from drifting back to him.

"Wow," Henry said, finally putting down his weight and sitting on the floor to lean back against the sofa as the credits rolled, "that was intense!"

I wanted to throw back some witty response, but my brain had apparently short circuited from the exposure to an unreasonably attractive man.

Henry turned to look over his shoulder at me, "Did you enjoy it?" He asked, a little awkwardly, as though small talk didn't come naturally or perhaps he just hadn't tried it in a while.

"Yeah, it was good." I replied, still caught up in my thoughts.

"Just good?" Now it was Henry's turn to frown.

"Really good." I forced a smile.

It was very hard to engage in conversation with someone who made sweaty look soo good. Why didn't more people look like that after exercise? If I looked like that afterwards I might be tempted to actually try it more often!

"Really good?" Henry repeated, running a hand through damp hair.

My mouth was suddenly dry, and I forgot how to form a sentence as he stood. My mind just kept repeating 'really good' as it scanned his unhelpfully attractive form. This was seriously testing my resolve to help him as a friend.

I tore my eyes away and forced myself to focus on the shelves behind him.

"Ok, well I'm going to go shower and then we can work out what we both want for dinner?" Henry suggested.

I nodded, still refusing to look at him. He paused for a moment, seeming confused by my behaviour. He wouldn't be if he could see just how that top clung to him now.

With a shrug, he placed the weights back in their rightful place and headed off upstairs.

All my breath came out of me in a rush and I fanned my face with the edge of the blanket. It was almost unfair really how good he looked.