Quit Bein' Ugly (The Southern Gentleman 3)

“Hi, Karen.” I held out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She looked at my hand and wrinkled up her nose.

I looked down to see that there was chalk on my outstretched hand.

“Oh, sorry,” I said as I wiped my hand on my shirt then once again held it out to her. “That’s going to be a usual thing, though, if you continue to work out here. Chalk’s kind of a necessity.”

“I don’t really do the whole sweating thing all that much,” she said, still ignoring my hand so I dropped it. “I just really wanted to come with Croft here. He’s so fun.”

Croft gave me an apologetic look that clearly said, “Sorry.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “Well, if you work out, you’re going to sweat. It’s inevitable.”

“Oh, I don’t sweat.” Karen shook her head.

My eyes once again went from Karen to Croft, and I gave him a bug-eyed look before saying, “Well, that’s cool.”

I didn’t believe her.

Either she didn’t sweat because she didn’t work hard, or she didn’t sweat because there was something wrong with her.

I was hoping for the ‘something wrong’ thing.

That would make my day better at this point.

“Do you need any help?” Croft asked.

I pointed to the last two kettle bells.

“If you can grab those.” I gestured to them. “And put them on the floor somewhere, that’d be great.”

Croft did as asked, leaving me with Karen.

I went to the whiteboard and started writing down the warmup while Karen admired the man that I was going out on a date with later that night.

“God, he is so sexy,” she cooed. “Oh, Croft! Look at your muscles!”

“Oh, Croft,” I mimicked to the whiteboard. “Look at your muscles.”

“Did you say something?” Croft asked as he came up to my side.

“No, nothing,” I replied.

I ignored him and went back to work, finishing up writing the warmup and then talking to the various other people that came into the gym to work out with me today.

“All right, everyone!” I called out once it was time for class to start. “Everyone grab a foam roller and spread out!”

Of course, everyone spread out and followed directions. Everyone but Karen that was.

She pulled up a spot directly next to Croft, who had a long wingspan and was sure to whack her if he stretched out fully and sat down.

Her short shorts rode up, showing off her legs.

But her legs weren’t muscular or anything. They were skinny, yes. But they had no meat to them. There was muscle, but only the amount of muscle that you would get walking and having good genetics.

I looked down at my own legs and grimaced.

My legs were muscled.

They were big.

I had a sizable ass and even more sizable quads.

The short pink shorts that I was wearing had ridden up, exposing the white of my legs that rarely saw sun.

I didn’t bother to pull them down.

This morning as I was exiting the house, I’d grabbed these on the fly, remembering that I would need them. Only, they were too short and they rode up, and I hadn’t realized that I disliked this particular pair until I’d put them on not too long ago when it was too late.

I pulled my shirt away from my body, wishing that I’d worn something cute and pink that showed off my breasts like Karen’s sporty top.

Instead, I was wearing a t-shirt that I was pretty sure used to be Flint’s in high school. It was a crop top now, having been cut off right at hip level. The shirt sleeves had also been cut off, the arms going down to almost where I’d cut the shirt off at hip level.

The black shirt itself said ‘Letourneau Soccer Camp’ on it in faded blue lettering.

My sports bra was pretty cute, though. It was bright blue and had white flowers on it. I’d gotten it at Victoria’s Secret a few days ago on sale, and I’d been excited to wear it for Croft, and he wasn’t even fucking paying attention to me.

The rat.

He was talking to Karen as he showed her how to roll out her quads and ass.

I turned my gaze away and focused on Schultz.

Schultz was one of my brother’s fellow officers. He worked for Gun Barrel Police Department as well and was as cute as could be.

Sadly, I couldn’t focus on him because all my eyes saw was Croft.

“How’re the legs feeling today?” I asked him, tapping his foam roller with my tennis-shoed foot.

He grimaced.

“Awful,” he grumbled. “The decision to go up on my weight seemed good at the time. Now? Not so much. I thought this getting into shape thing was going to be great. That I’d feel better. But all it’s done was show me how to live sore.”

I laughed.

“That’s true,” I agreed. “One would think that by working out that we would be less sore than we are. But seriously, I’ve been doing CrossFit for years now, and I don’t think I’ve ever not been sore.”