1⌝ Need A Spotter?

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Song of the Chapter-Nice To Meet Ya by Niall Horan

"God fucking damnit!"
Shit, maybe I shouldn't have yelled that out loud. This is great. If I cuss any louder they'll have to ask me to politely leave like the other gyms have. Politely my ass, those gym managers are stone cold as shit. Oh and thanks to my loud ass mouth, everyone in the gym is staring at me now. I mean, it's not like they haven't been staring already due to the fact that I couldn't squat this weight for like the past fifteen fucking minutes.

I sat there in between the two safety guards at the squat rack with the barbell right in front of my face, taunting me. That little fucker. This weight should be easy,I mean for god's sake my max was heavier than this in high school, and I'm fucking twenty-three. My big-ass thighs should be able to get this but no, they're not working right today. Like c'mon, I just wanna get this lift then go home and eat a shit ton of food, you know like everyone does on a day off from work.

I stand up and grab my water in an attempt to regain any sort of strength before I try this lift again. The cool water sends shivers down my spine and suddenly I feel a weird sensation like I always feel when I'm in the gym.

Someone was fucking staring at me.

I should be used to the long glances and wandering eyes in the gym but I just never do. Ever since I lost weight in high school, guys and men would look at me like a slab of meat. I gotta admit I'm not the most vain or confident person but I guess I'm pretty attractive, I mean I can't go a whole day without a single cat call or whistle.

I've always been a "curvy girl", even when I had a little more weight on me in high school. My mother always said I got her and my dad's good genes. I've got my mom's big thighs, smallish waist, and butt. But I also luckily got my dad's blue eyes and dark hair. But looks don't bother me now too much as they did before. I've learned to love and accept my body a bit more over time. Lifting weights was the main cause for it and I'm ever so thankful I joined the powerlifting team in high school.

The feeling of the still prying eyes on me soon snapped me back to reality of where I'm at. For some reason I had a gut feeling that this onlooker might not be an old saggy man. I tried to get a get look at them in my peripheral vision but I couldn't quite make out a face or physical characteristics. All I could tell is that they were a guy, from what I could see, and that they were tall with possibly brown hair.

I mustered up all the courage I could, still clenching my water bottle fiercely, and prepared for the worst. Please don't be an old man, please don't be an old man, please don't be an ol-"holy shit," I accidentally muttered when I turned to see who had been staring at me from across the gym.

When I turned to my right I saw one of the hottest guys I think I've ever seen in person. He was decently tall with an amazing slim but muscular build. He had like brownish, almost deep dirty blonde hair with light eyes. His muscle tank showcased his broad shoulders and his gorgeous biceps. My eyes trailed down his body to glance at his tanned and toned legs. What a lucky son of a bitch to have that great a pair of legs. He had lifted his tank to wipe the sweat off his head and I practically spat out my water.

Goddamn he has chiseled abs too?! Holy hell, he must have a girlfriend, I'm screwed. I don't think I've ever experienced a proper "lady boner" until this moment. Goddamn.

A sudden movement to his right caught my attention. "Shit," I whispered. This angel was accompanied with a friend. The guy next to him had jet black hair, deep colored eyes, and was heavily tatted. He was hot with his slim build but nothing compared to the brunette beauty who was next to him. The tatted guy looked at me then gestured to his friend who was now too occupied with something on his phone.

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