The Trainer Read Online Free PDF Page B

hibiscus, and orange mimosa flowers bursting everywhere.  He tried to keep his mind on how beautiful the morning was instead of what had just happened. He was determined to get in shape one way or another, even if he had to do it on his own. He wasn’t sure when he was going to see Tim again, and part of him didn’t want to after getting caught with the fake profile; but he was still determined to look as good as he could whenever that day came. If Tim could move on that quickly and find someone, he could at least get in good enough shape to attract someone. He was in his late twenties, which in gay years was like being on the verge of middle age. He had to get in shape and stay in shape, because there was always a new crop of twinks taking the seniors’ spots.
    His mother always told him s uccess is the sweetest revenge, and he would cling to those words like a lifejacket during the next few months or however long it took to accomplish his goal. Ideally, sooner rather than later , he thought to himself, as he tried to pick up the speed, but he was already running out of breath.
    Beep . A car was honking at him.
    He looked back, wondering why this jerk was driving so close ly to him. But it was Mason’s truck. He pulled up beside Chris, his brown hair blowing as he leaned out the window
    “Hey, you should stretch better before you start running,” he called. He’d taken off his sunglasses, and Chris was petrified: hazel brown eyes. Hazel eyes that almost made him trip over his own shoes.
    “Good to know .” Chris said, as he continued jogging.
    “Try to run on your toes; your knees are the first to go,” Mason yelled from his car.
    “Ay-ay, captain,” Chris said, saluting sarcastically.
    “Hey look, I’m sorry I was such a dick to you back there. Why don’t you stop? I 'll park and we’ll finish this session together. I ran my errands and I still have forty minutes before I have to pick up my daughter.”
    Chris sighed.  He knew he was acting immature and the guy was apologizing. He didn’t have to do that. Besides, he was exhausted already, and this would give him a chance to stop and catch his breath.
    He ran onto the grass of a small park and caught his breath, pacing back and forth and practically keeling over. The sun was beginning to cut through the haze of the morning fog , and already Chris felt the heat that had seemed so oppressive, even on the coolest days.
    Mason pulled over. As he got out, he tugged his jogging pants downward and rubbed his belly once , absentmindedly pulling his tank top up for a moment, giving Chris a quick glimpse of his washboard abs. God. Chris thought. How fucking crazy.  The sexy shower guy was his personal trainer. He only prayed that Mason didn’t recognize him, or had never noticed him watching. But wait a minute:  what if he knew Chris was watching, but kept on showing off anyway? Could this guy be gay?
    Mason tossed his hat off before slamming the door and walking over to Chris, cool as ice. Again, as befor e, Chris found himself flabbergasted just by Mason’s physique. He had a crotch-graspingly hot body. A black tank top clung to his Panther-like torso, and his shoulder-length hair framed his cut jaw, dimpled chin, and sculptural nose. Coarse stubble shadowed his face.
    “Hey man, let’s start over. I never introduced myself properly,” he said , extending his hand.  “Mason.”
    “Nice to meet you.”
    “Likewise. So ...”
    “So,” Chris smiled back nervously , catching his breath.
    He couldn’t help but stare at Mason’s bulging biceps, sinewy forearm, and large powerful hands tossing his keys back and forth.
    “Shall we get started? You worked out before?”
    “Well, a long time ago.”
    “When?” Mason asked doubtfully as he looked Chris up and down.
    “Back in college. More like high school actually,” Chris chuckled.
    Mason flashed him a smile that made Chris’ heart stop. Gorgeous. “You’re funny,” he said. “Alright. I don’t