Worth The Risk (18+)

13

*Saturday*

Avery

I woke up early this morning... Yes, you heard that right. Me, I woke up early. 8am, to be precise. I don't know why, but I felt refreshed when I woke up, so I didn't waste any time taking advantage of that.

I got up, ate some breakfast, cleaned my room, and now I'm on my way to workout. I used to be really good with exercising regularly, but since last summer, I've really slacked off. Don't know why I decided that today was the day to hop back on, but does it matter? Better late than never.

I'm going to a public gym, and not the one on campus. I prefer not to exercise around feral college boys. I've done that before, a few times, and it never failed to be a shit time. Just guys constantly staring at me, making weird comments, but never anybody actually trying to get my number or even just be respectful.

That being said, I do hope to see a cute, respectful guy, so I wore my best gym outfit. Matching black sports bra and spandex shorts. The bra holds up the girls real nice, and the shorts may be tight to the skin, but they allow for plenty of jiggling if I start doing jumping jacks or something... Plus they just really compliment my butt even when standing.

When I get to the gym, I can tell it's dead by the lack of cars in the parking lot. Well, so much for seeing a cute guy... Maybe. I guess there's still a chance that one's in there or shows up later. If anything, I may just get to work out in peace, and that's nice too.

As I enter the gym, I glance around before I go to put my things into a locker, and only see about four people total. I guess not many people come to work out at 10am on a Saturday morning... Who would've thought?

I put my things into a locker, put my hair in a bun, and immediately head for the treadmill. I always start with cardio, since it's my least favorite, and it's a good warm up.

After running about two miles, I stop, chug some water, and wipe the sweat off my forehead. I know most women wouldn't want a cute guy to see her all sweaty and exhausted at the gym, but I don't mind. Personally, I think I look hot like this, and I've actually been told that by others too. And at the end of the day, if he doesn't like me at my worst, he doesn't deserve me at my best. That's the saying, right? It's fucking right.

When I've caught my breath, I grab my water and towel, and head over to the weights and start doing some arm workouts. I don't even have a chance to lose my breath from the weights... What I see nearly knocks the wind out of me.

Mr. L... On the bench press. Lifting 250lbs like it's a bag of feathers. If that wasn't enough to make me drool, his attire is. He's shirtless, with fucking gray sweats on. Every woman's weakness. God dammit, of course. Of course he's here, looking like a fifteen-course meal, and lifting nearly twice my body weight without a problem. I can only imagine what he'd do to me.

I debate on leaving... I don't think he's seen me yet, and I could easily run out of here without confrontation. As I'm fighting that battle in my head, I'm startled by the sound of him dropping the weight back onto the bar and standing up. His fucking muscles are carved to perfection. Every muscle on his body is veiny and strained from his workouts, beads of sweat covering him as he breaths heavily and chugs his water.

Good fucking god-almighty... I'm in love. Whatever underwear he's wearing prevents me from seeing a dick print in his pants, but it's not like I need any more reason to go feral for this man.

When I notice him turning my way, I quickly shift back into my lifting. Hoping to god that he doesn't see me, or at least, doesn't come up to me.

Trying to be casual, I forget my form, and pull something in my back when I lift incorrectly, to which I hiss in pain, without thinking. I've now unintentionally drawn attention to myself... Smart, Ave.