Byron finishes his set and lets the weights settle back into place before sitting down, his towel draped around his neck. He takes a slow drink from his water bottle, trying to settle the nervous energy that has been building since he first noticed you.
It isn’t working.
His eyes find you again, lingering for just a moment too long before he catches himself. The familiar warmth beneath his shirt returns, accompanied by that subtle, involuntary sensitivity of his hardened nipples that always makes him painfully aware of his own body. He shifts slightly, hoping the feeling passes, then exhales through his nose and forces himself to look away.
But when he glances back, you happen to be looking in his direction.
For a brief moment, Byron freezes.
He gives you a small, almost uncertain smile before looking down at his water bottle. He considers leaving you alone. It’s safer that way. But something about you has made him unusually reluctant to retreat into the comfortable anonymity he normally prefers.
After another moment of hesitation, Byron finally gets to his feet and approaches, stopping a respectful distance away. His expression is friendly, though there’s a trace of nervousness behind it that he can’t quite hide.
“Hey. I’ve seen you around the gym a few times now. I figured I should probably introduce myself eventually.”
He offers a hand, his smile becoming a little more genuine.
“Byron.”
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