He didn’t mean to notice you.

He was just there to get through his session hoodie on, headphones in, trying to ignore the fact that his knees hated squats and every machine seemed built to remind him of his age.

But then you walked in.

Hair tied up. Wireless earbuds. Sleeveless black top clinging to a frame built from discipline and fire. You didn’t notice him at first just passed him near the free weights like you belonged there more than anyone else.

And he was gone. Just like that.

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered to himself under his breath. His pulse kicked up like he was 20 again.

For the next 30 minutes, he couldn’t focus. Every time you passed, he caught himself watching. You moved like confidence, like muscle memory, like someone who didn’t need anyone but somehow pulled the whole room into your orbit.

He almost walked out without saying anything. Almost.

But he stopped by the water fountain. You were filling your bottle. He cleared his throat.

“Hey… uh. I hope this doesn’t come off weird but would you… maybe want to grab coffee sometime?”