Not a Valentine

Chapter 12

Mason was acting like I was kidnapping him to the gym when we walked out of the house just half an hour ago, but as soon as we got in the car, he calmed down. His head was turned to the window, but I knew that, from the lack of fiddling with his hands, he wasn't anxious anymore.

Once we get to the gym, I have to park my car in the back, so once I turn it off, I say, "You're in charge of helping me remember where I put the car."

Mason stares back at the car and then the surrounding for a second, commemorating it to memory, before he whispers, "Okay."

"Okay, then let's go," I say to him in excitement. It seemed that I had more energy than I had thought I would, but it's good; I didn't need the energy drink I brought with me and would be able to go to sleep on time tonight.

Mason holds the door open for me, and I give him a large smile. "Thanks. What a gentleman," I murmur to myself, and my friend only shrugs. I led us through the front entrance and all the way to the back of the gym.

I stand in my spot and turn to Mason with my hand on my waist. "You look like shit," I say with a laugh as I look up at him and see what lack of energy he has. I reach out a hand toward him and say, "Here, you'll need it."

"I kind of want to tire out before I get home," Mason says, and I shake my head. "No, you won't be able to work out well enough then."

"I never agreed to any of this," Mason says as he looks around at the place. I follow his gaze and look at the assortment of machines lined up around the place. I had only been at this gym for a few months, but I had grown used to it and never really thought of anything else but my own machines that I use.

I start to stretch, having to do warm-ups, or my body would ache the whole night. Mason falls in step in front of me, stretching as well. His eyes are trained for the task at hand, but when our eyes meet at times, I give him a teasing smile. He hadn't wanted to come, and yet I had forced him to. After a few minutes, as Mason had drunken enough energy, I started to move toward the treadmills lined up.

I glance at the machine beside it with a scowl as if it had personally hurt me and say, "And after we can get on those, but for the next fifteen minutes, I need this one to get me ready for the beast they call the stair master."

Mason nods, not finding my brooding energy funny, and gets on a treadmill right by mine. I start off with a slow speed, but within a few minutes, the speed has gone up. I look to my side to find Mason on the treadmill; his speed is the same as mine, but he looks rather bored. I reach out my hand and press the speed button on his treadmill.

"What are you doing?" he asks me with a panicked look on his face, and I only offer him an easy smile. His eyes move down to the speed button on the treadmill.

"You need higher speed if it's too easy for you," I tell him, to which he only stares at the speed. Eventually, he gives me a shrug, and I turn back to my own machine triumphantly. The fifteen minutes go by easier than I thought, but my breath still feels uneven, which makes sense, of course.

I grab my water bottle on the floor and uncap it before I take the swig that I really need. Just the one: I didn't want to drink too much water when exercising; that wouldn't be too well for my body. I'm handing Mason the water bottle when I find him clawing at the collar of his hoodie, his face red from irritation.

"What's wrong?" I ask him once I find out that he looks annoyed as well.

"It's freaking hot in here," he wheezes out as his breathing comes in uneven, and I bet that his body temperature has something to do with it as well.

"You can take off your hoodie," I tell him, the only solution I can think of right now. I mean, he looked as if he was going to pass it, and I knew why he hadn't gone too fast on the treadmill. His clothes were too warm for a gym that was hotter than it should be.