RUSH

Ch. 35: Giddy

-Mason-

"Honestly," Eric mentioned as we pulled into the gym's parking lot, far too smug with himself for my liking. "I'm surprised you let me tag along again, dude."

I frowned, not pleased with the development at all. Although, it wasn't like I'd had much of a choice in the matter. "I was running late and you literally threatened to throw yourself in front of my car and cling onto the roof as I drove away," I reminded him, not bothering to omit the displeasure from my voice. "Did you want me to run you over instead?"

Eric shrugged, patting my shoulder. "I would've preferred it, really. But this is an acceptable compromise."

I didn't bother with a reply, glancing around in search of a parking space. The gym was typically bustling with people around this time, and today was certainly no exception. Of course, there were the rare, blessed days where I happened to pull into the lot just as someone in the front row was leaving; however, that didn't seem to be quite feasible today.

My eyes drifted to the time and I grumbled under my breath, settling for turning right towards the far back of the parking lot and pulling into a space under the shade of a large oak tree. There were no cars back here, thankfully. And hell, at least now I wouldn't have to squeeze my way in when the car beside me disregarded the parking line entirely. And most of these idiots did.

"Alright, dude. So, what's our set looking like today? We doing arms? Legs? Boobs?"

"You mean chest? There isn't such a thing as—" I halted as he poked my chest. I swatted his arm away in annoyance, but that didn't hinder him much.

"I beg to differ," he retorted. "Those mommy milkers are—"

I settled a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. "No. Never call them that again." I cringed at the mere term, acutely aware that I had to nip this shit in the bud unless I was ready for it to become a common part of his vernacular.

Eric narrowed his eyes, trying so fucking hard to suppress a smirk. I only tightened my grip until he let go, narrowing my eyes as he burst out laughing. The cheeky little shit... "Are you threatening me, big boy?"

"I don't know. Is it working?" I retorted while stepping out of the car, opening the trunk and pulling out my gym bag before tossing it over my shoulder, watching him busily texting on his phone when he could be getting his ass out of my car.

I closed the trunk and tapped on both windows to alert him, impatiently waiting for him to get out so I could lock the car. We weren't necessarily late late, but it was definitely cutting it close.

"I'm serious, dude; what's our plan?" he asked while closing his own door, jogging around the car to catch up to me as I crossed the street, pleased at the reassuring sound of the car locking. Eric was buzzing with excitement, which would've been contagious if I wasn't so goddamn nervous about today, my hands sweaty even as I continuously rubbed them against the sides of my shorts. "Are we meeting Bennett inside?"

"We are not, no."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eric asked while crossing the street, turning back to... pretend to box with me.

I ignored him as he walked backwards and threw fake punches that stopped a few inches short of my shoulder, frowning when a suspicious one ended up a bit too close to my jaw.

"Watch it," I warned.

Eric snorted. "Oh, c'mon. Lighten up, bro. It's—" I yanked him forward by the arm just as he tripped back on the sidewalk, pulling him up before he could eat shit.