Michael’s mundane days come to an end when he meets his maybe-gay, maybe-straight gym crush in the most unexpected way. Despite an inauspicious introduction, he and Tyler connect quickly. Michael’s BFF Elise helps him learn a bit more about Tyler and start a conversation, but his sexuality is still a question.
A budding friendship ensues as Michael struggles over when, and how, to come out to Tyler. When he slides it into a conversation, he’s underwhelmed by Tyler’s noncommittal reaction. Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long. An unexpected kiss opens the door to a conversation where Michael gets the news he wants.
Prone to disaster, Michael inadvertently disrupts Tyler’s life over and over again. Will the chaos and drama Michael creates drive Tyler away? Or will Michael’s fumbling endear him to Tyler?
The following day, however, is when my life changed forever. Well, sorta. I bolted out of work and headed for the gym. As I parked and got out of the car, I saw him. That unmistakable figure. That perfect ass. Tight blue jeans and a blue t-shirt still gave no clues to his orientation. He was headed straight for the door and I rushed to fall in line behind him. By the time he got to the front desk, I was right behind him. He scanned his ID card and the little screen on the check-in machine said, Welcome Tyler Beauchamp.
Tyler Beauchamp! What a name! I immediately felt closer to him. It was an intimacy I cherished. Tyler -- could be from younger, hipper parents that wanted a cool name for their son. Could also be kinda rednecky. Beauchamp -- he was definitely from Louisiana. Now I had a name. I’d be Facebook and Instagram stalking him. I was convinced that I would soon know his entire life story. But first, I needed a plan for navigating our time together in the gym. My first priority was to see him change in the locker room -- to get another glimpse of that physique. My second priority was to observe his workout routine, not just to steal ideas but also to be perfectly positioned so that if he needed a spot, I’d be his first choice.
I chose to loiter outside the locker room for a short while to give him time to get in, unpack and hopefully get naked. I poured out the expensive electrolyte drink in my water bottle and refilled it with tap water from the moldy fountain. Oh, the things we do for love! As I entered the locker room, I noticed he’d selected a locker in the same general location as from the other day. Do I do the same or pick one further away that would afford me a chance of better, unobserved surveillance? I chose to go next to him. I opened my locker as he pulled his jeans off, revealing his black 2(x)ist boxer briefs. My favorite brand of underwear! Well, to be honest, I’d never heard of that brand before but I vowed to never purchase any other kind from that moment on.
His slid into athletic shorts with the ease and grace of a ballet dancer and kept the blue t-shirt, robbing me of the chance to see that chiseled torso again. As he grabbed his towel and water bottle, and shut the locker door, he turned and saw me. “Hey,” he said with a hint of enthusiasm. Did he recognize me from the other day? Was he happy to see me? Or, was he simply a friendly guy? “Enjoy your workout,” he added as he started for the workout area. Uh oh! That’s the same thing he said when he left the other day. A stock, standard nicety he uses with everyone?
I finished changing and headed into the gym. Superman was warming up on a stair machine. A glute-centric exercise! I made a mental note for purposes of future ass sculpting. I went to my elliptical to begin my torture routine. He finished on the stairs and began a methodical, full-body regimen. He started with butterflies and chest presses then strapped a fifty pound weight to his waist and did pull ups, overhead lifts for his shoulders, then worked his back, biceps, triceps and abs. Leg presses and leg extensions were followed by this hateful machine where you press outward with your thighs then reverse the pads and squeeze inward. I knew what was coming next -- squats! He put about a million pounds on a bar, lifted it to his shoulders and squatted. Over and over again, he squatted. I was slightly too mesmerized to count, but I’m guessing he did four sets of twenty. I was exhausted just watching all of this.
