I stalled at my locker for half a second too long.
Jason didn’t.
He dropped his towel onto the bench and pulled his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. The fabric slid up his torso, revealing skin still flushed from the workout, muscles loose and warm and alive. He didn’t perform it. He didn’t slow down. He just existed in his body like it belonged to him.
My mouth went dry.
I told myself to look away. I just couldn’t
He took off his shoes, peeled his socks off, then pushed his shorts off his hips and stepped out of them, left in nothing but fitted underwear that did nothing to hide how solid he was. Thighs. Hips. Ass. My God, when he turned a little, the shape of his crotch took away what little air had been left in my lungs.
I swallowed and turned to my own locker, hands suddenly clumsy. My fingers fumbled with the zipper of my hoodie. When I pulled it off, the air hit my damp skin and raised goose bumps along my arms. I peeled my shirt over my head more carefully than necessary, acutely aware of every inch of myself, from the narrowness of my shoulders to the flatness of my stomach. My skin still glistened faintly with sweat.
I felt it before I saw it.
Jason was looking at me.
Not in a quick, accidental glance. Not in the polite way people pretended not to notice. His gaze wassteady, curious, and open. It traced, assessed, and lingered.
My breath went shallow as I pulled the waistband of my shorts. I stepped out of them and stood there in my underwear, suddenly very aware of the vulnerability of it. Of how exposed I felt in comparison to him. Of how much I wanted him to look and how terrifying it was that he already was.
Jason’s expression shifted, something thoughtful crossing his face. “You’ve got a good constitution,” he said, like he was commenting on the weather.
I blinked. “What?”
He smiled faintly. “I mean it. You recover fast. Your form holds even when you’re tired.” His eyes moved again, slower this time, mapping me with care and without a trace of shame. “Your frame’s actually perfect for strength work. You won’t ever be a heavyweight monster, but you don’t need to be. You could build a really clean definition if you wanted. Aesthetic, you know.”
I laughed weakly. “I just want healthy habits.” The words came out breathless, betraying me. His gaze dragged over me again, unhurried.
“That’s hot, too,” he said, after a beat.
Heat rushed into my face so fast it felt like I might combust. My skin prickled everywhere at once.
He blinked, then grimaced. “I made you blush. Sorry.”
I shook my head quickly. “You just say things,” Isaid, trying to find solid ground. “You say things, and I don’t know what they mean.”
Jason shifted back a step, giving me space without being asked. The movement felt intentional. The silence between us thickened, heavy enough to suffocate. Steam drifted lazily from the showers nearby.
My gaze dropped despite myself. It dropped to the small space between us. To his smooth legs. To his thighs and hips before sliding up his stomach, over the planes of his chest, and finally to his eyes.
They were warm. Melted chocolate, soft and intent and far too attentive.
“I never know what people mean,” I said quietly. “But you take the cake, Jason.”
He huffed a small breath, something close to a laugh. “I never know how to say things.”
I hugged my towel a little closer without meaning to, suddenly hyperaware of my own skin, my own shape, how much smaller I felt next to him. He, meanwhile, stood there utterly at ease, shoulders round and loose, waist tapered, abs defined even though he wasn’t flexing them.
“I prefer when people are blunt and direct,” I said, forcing the words out. “If it helps.”
“Blunt and direct,” Jason repeated, thoughtful.
He closed his eyes and drew in a breath, his chest rising slowly. When he opened them again, he looked straight at me.
And the space between us felt charged enough to spark.
The locker room felt smaller than it had seconds ago. Jason’s chest kept rising and falling, too visible, and I tracked the movement because looking anywhere else meant acknowledging what was happening.