Love Trainer [VegasPete Edition]

Week Seven

After Vegas liked every picture on Pete's IG profile he began to upload his own. Various gym selfies showed off his biceps, but the pictures by the pool were a personal attack, they showcased his chiseled chest perfectly.

Pete got to see images of his family and how much he looked like his older brother. He also discovered something quite interesting: the bastard Adonis was a certified nerd. He had the complete Harry Potter Book collection and liked to crack dad jokes.

Vegas began to reply with his own selfies, and those really did a number to Pete's rebellion. The morning shots of him still cuddling with his cat bare chested were far sexier than they should be. He looked gentle and comfy, his messy hair and bare face were refreshing and endearing.

It all succeeded in softening the image of the trainer, making him much more approachable. Pete could sense the small shift on his next gym appointment. He was suddenly a little too comfortable with his doors getting opened, and he took pride in the way his trainer's eyes locked on his ass at the lunges.

Pete's big slip came around Thursday, an off day from his gym appointments. He had texted another racy post cardio selfie to the trainer that afternoon, but got no reply. It was unusual, but by 6 in the evening Pete was starting to get worried. He called Vegas' number a couple of times and it kept going straight to voicemail.

Once an intrusive thought got in, Pete fell into a full out panic.

"Hey, I haven't heard from you in a while. Are you okay?" Pete texted at at five

"Call me as soon as you get this." He texted again at 6:30.

Pete went back and forth between thinking an emergency had taken place or the bastard had decided to finally stop chasing him. Either way, Pete needed to know; it was absolutely vital.

As he was searching for the contact info of the owner of the gym, a call came in.

"Hey! Are you okay?" Pete demanded as he answered.

"I'm sorry, babe. I was helping my brother and the phone died on me." Vegas' smile was obvious in his tone, it only served to make Pete angry.

"I'm not your babe! And it's not funny, I was actually worried about you."

"I mean you're acting like a worried boyfriend right now. So I think that does make you my babe." The bastard had the audacity to sound smug about it. Pete just hung up the call, tossing his phone onto the bed. Fuck that guy!

The phone pinged with a message and Pete was rewarded with a selfie. Vegas with his brother covered in what he could assume was motor oil from the bikes behind them.

"I'm sorry I made you worried," said the text attached.

The selfie he had sent earlier got a drooling emoji. Woah! Pete smiled because, damn right, it was about time.

On Saturday Pete had a shopping date with the girls, Shereen and her cousin Irean. Their mother's were best friends and the two had been raised like sisters.

Surrounded by good company, Pete felt comfortable enough to try on an outfit that had been on his mind for a while. He had bought a long sleeve black crop top with the intention of wearing it when his work at the gym started to pay off.

He paired it with black harajuku harem pants which were so wide they looked like a skirt. Keeping his favorite blue cap for the extra androgyny.

He felt so confident he took a mirror selfie and sent it to Vegas before waltzing out the door.

"Damn, Pete. You didn't have to make us look so bad!" Shereen complained as he approached their table. They had agreed to meet at the food court.

"You look great, Pete!" Irean beamed as she handed Pete his americano. Her shoulder length hair and gentle voice made her look younger than Shereen.