Jerk

“Sure, I’ll renew.”

“Really? Awesome.” He goes to the computer and starts typing, then frowns. “Wish they’d update the system here. Last gym I worked at, all of this would be online or automated and I wouldn’t have to bug you.”

I prop my elbows on the counter. “Struggles of a privately-owned gym, I guess?”

“You got it.”

My gaze dances down from his pretty, deep brown eyes to his tight polo shirt, the gym logo printed on it, right next to his shiny nametag: Danny Chen.

Danny is a nice guy. A real one. The exact kind I’d swipe right on—even if I knew there was no chance of him swiping right back. A guy I’d happily take on a date, hang out with for hours, laugh at each other’s jokes, and cuddle with while watching a movie neither of us are really paying attention to, our hearts too distracted as they drum with anticipation.

He’s the kind of nice guy where your happiest days aren’t even sexual. They’re emotional, sweet, and meaningful. They’re the mug of hot cocoa by a fire, and the blanket he thoughtfully wraps you in. They’re holding each other in a cushy old armchair that smells like every holiday season, me stroking his arm thoughtfully while telling him about my day. They’re us at a rescue shelter, picking out which sweet puppy to take home, and choosing what we’ll name him or her.

He’s the guy who makes it easy to believe in a happy-ever-after.

I can imagine it all with Danny, as if our life is a beautiful memory I haven’t made yet.

“You’re all set,” he announces with another breath-stealing smile. “Membership renewed.”

And despite all my doubts, I might even have the courage to ask Danny on a date, if it weren’t for one stinging, unfortunate setback.

3. The Setback

“DUDE!” booms the sweaty, muscled monster from behind, marching from the weight machines up to the front counter. “Danny, what the fuck, babe? The staff aren’t cleaning the machines! I just sat down in a puddle of some old man’s sweat on the chest press.”

The setback is an obnoxious, entitled, amateur bodybuilder named Joey.

Danny’s jerk of a boyfriend.

Joey has upper-body muscles for days, but they seem out of proportion with his skinny legs, like he spends all his time in the gym doing angry bicep curls and nothing else. (Except eating small children for protein, maybe.) Though he might have a handsome face, he always seems to be scowling, no matter his mood. He has a tanned complexion that turns angry and rosier at his cheeks, and a head of bleached blond hair that always appears gelled so solidly in place, it looks like a yellow Lego hairpiece.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” says Danny. “I’ll get someone on it. We’re short-staffed, since Brian pulled a muscle and had to take the day off.”

Joey crosses his big arms, slick with sweat, and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, probably a lie so he can stay home and pull another muscle all day long, the horny loser.” He doesn’t even acknowledge that I’m standing right next to him. I literally don’t exist. “If you’re short-staffed, you should put up a sign or something. ‘Clean up after your sets. Wipe off the machines. Don’t be a filthy pig.’ It isn’t rock science.”

I think he means rocket science, but apparently Danny is too nice to correct him. “You’ve got a great point, babe.”

“I know.” Joey scoffs. “This place doesn’t clean itself, obviously. Hey, and you’re out of towels, too.”

“I’ll get Desiree on it.”

Without even so much as a thank-you, Joey pushes away from the counter and goes back to the machines. Danny smiles after him, then lets out a tiny sigh and faces me. “Sounds like I’ve got some work to do. Thanks for renewing your membership, Romeo.”

I keep wanting to say it’s just Rome, but something about the formality and respect he gives my full name every time he utters it keeps me from telling him. Maybe I like it. I smile back and prepare to thank him—when a loud clang from Joey dropping his weight after a deadlift distracts us both.

“Guess I better get on those towels before my boyfriend breaks the floor,” says Danny before excusing himself from the front desk, leaving me on my own.

I’m not sure what comes over me. Maybe it’s the way he looks when he walks away like he’s on a mission. Or it’s the lingering emotion that twists up in my chest like a restless balloon animal. Or that spark of insanity that often accompanies intense feelings for someone you know you can’t have.

But the next moment, I’m hurrying to his side. “I can help.”

Danny blinks at me, then chuckles. “Why? Are you looking for a new job or something?”

“Nope. But you did say you’re short-staffed, and everyone deserves to have … uh … towels and sweat-free workout benches.”