Chapter 4

Gavin still knows what he's doing in the gym. He always has, even though I'm technically the dumb jock of the pair. But then, Gavin's always been good at everything he does. Smart. Kind. Generous. He's got his shit together in a way I've never been able to match.

We take turns spotting each other on the bench press and during squats. Gavin's got the type of body that doesn't look like much when he's relaxed, but the second he starts flexing, the guns come out to play. His forearms are a mosaic of all those little muscles, his biceps are round without bulging. His pecs are well-defined and his abs are flat. His glutes, quads, and calves don't look like they belong to a guy who sits at a desk for twelve hours a day.

He"s lost weight since the last time I saw him in person. It's obvious now without a winter coat and suit to cover it up.

"Work's been busy?" I ask as we finish our stretches and head to the locker room.

He sighs and I can feel the weariness in my own bones. "Yeah, there's a big IPO at the end of the month and we've been working non-stop since before Christmas."

Which explains why he didn't come home for the holidays this past December. "End of the month is a couple weeks away. Should be over soon, right?"

Gavin's smile looks more defeated than anything else. "Yeah, and then it's on to the next client." He wraps a towel around his waist before reaching under it to tug his shorts off.

Meanwhile, I'm already buck naked with my towel slung over my shoulder. Since when did he get all shy about nudity in the locker room? There's no one else in here besides us and I've seen his junk more times than I can count.

The shower room is one of those open free-for-alls without any stalls. He unwraps his towel from around his waist and hangs it up, then turns the water on, waiting for it to warm up before stepping underneath. His back is to me the entire time and I can't tell if I'm reading too much into it or if he's trying to hide himself from me.

Did something happen to his dick? Did it get cut off? Did he get it tattooed?

"Dude, what the hell?"

Gavin's glance over his shoulder is so quick I doubt he even saw anything. "What?"

"Why are you acting weird?"

His shoulders tense. "I'm not acting weird. I'm taking a shower."

He's totally acting weird. He won't look at me. He won't face me. Somehow he manages to soap up, rinse off, shampoo and condition his hair all without turning in my direction even once. It's not like I want to see his dick, but it's a normal part of being in a locker room. Gavin acting all cagey only makes me itch to yank his towel away and see what's up.

I don't, though. Because I'm not a jerk. But I do eye him all the way to the lockers again and while we change into our street clothes. He keeps his back to me the entire time, only letting up once he's fully dressed. He shoots a glance in my direction, then snaps his gaze away when he realizes I'm still wearing nothing but the towel.

"What's taking you so long?"

I shrug and sit down on the bench, spreading my knees so wide that the cinch in the towel slips off and the two ends fall in between my thighs. "Nothing. I'm not in a rush to get anywhere."

His movements are jerky as he shoves his stuff into his gym bag. "Well, I am. I've got to get to work. You have the apartment key, right?"

"Yeah, I've got it. What time will you be home?"

It takes a split second for him to answer and when he does, his voice is tight. "I don't know. Don't wait up." He practically runs out of the locker room.

I lean forward, dropping my face into my hands. I don't know what's wrong with me. Everything feels off. Gavin is supposed to be a safe haven from the shitstorm of my life, but we don't feel as easy and effortless as we normally do. Maybe it's the lingering urge I have to pick fights at every turn. Maybe Gavin's got his own shit going on. Maybe it was a mistake to come here in the first place.

Except there isn't anywhere else I want to be, even if I did have somewhere else to go. I need my best friend right now. I need Gavin.

With a sigh, I strip the towel away and reach for my clothes. Whatever the issue is, we'll figure it out. We always do. Step one? Making Gavin's favorite meal for dinner.