You were in your own world, locked in to your music and training to the point that you had no idea that he was bluntly checking you out. He on the other hand was trying to do anything to hide the small tent in his pants as he groaned and bit his lip. The way sweat glistened from your body, your muscles pumping as you worked — Lord, you were fine.

“Uh, bro?” You blinked at him, waving a hand in front of him. “I asked if you could spot me.” With a hand you motioned to the available weight lifter.

“Ah, uh, shit, my fault— of course.” He cursed, running a hand through his slick ginger hair as he walked over and watched you get ready.