I stayed late at the gym, the place practically deserted except for one other person, a guy I’d noticed during my usual workouts. He was one of those effortlessly confident types, with a smirk that could make anyone lose focus. That night, he caught me struggling with one of the machines, and I wasn’t sure if I was more embarrassed or excited when he walked over. “Need a hand?” he teased, his voice low and playful, making my cheeks flush instantly.

He adjusted the weights for me, his hands brushing against mine just enough to send sparks up my spine. We started talking, laughing more than I expected, and it felt like the gym wasn’t as cold and empty anymore. Every glance he gave me lingered, his eyes tracing over me in a way that made my pulse quicken.

When he suggested we cool off in the empty yoga studio, I hesitated for a split second before nodding. As soon as we stepped inside and the door clicked shut, he turned to me with that same confident smirk. He backed me up against the mirrored wall, his hands finding my waist as he leaned in. His lips brushed mine, soft at first, but the kiss deepened quickly, his hands sliding over my hips.

I felt the coolness of the glass against my back, but his touch was anything but cold. His fingers explored my skin, and the way he whispered in my ear between kisses left me breathless. The quiet, dimly lit room and the faint hum of music from the main gym made the moment feel almost surreal. By the time we finally pulled away, my heart was racing, my hair was a mess, and I’d completely forgotten I came here to work out in the first place.