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Flashback: Months Ago
My breath came out in heavy pants, and I wondered if it was okay to stop the treadmill now. I glanced at the timer and saw I had only been running for 30 minutes on speed 5—though I'd slowed down a few times to a fast walk.
I decided to push through for another ten minutes, but six minutes in, I felt like I was about to die. I couldn't take it anymore, so I gradually reduced the speed to 4… then 3… and finally switched it off.
The gym coach always advised us not to just suddenly stop the treadmill to avoid any falls or injuries. But of course, some people still did whatever they liked. I, however, knew my limits.
I stepped down from the treadmill, my legs feeling like jelly. I was completely exhausted... and thirsty. I walked over to where I'd kept my bottle and took several big gulps of water.
It was a Saturday morning, and the gym was packed. Saturdays were always like this—probably because it's a work-free day for most people? Even with the AC on, the smell of sweat still hung in the air.
After quenching my thirst, I walked over to my friend who was working out on her own. She was seated in a corner, in a spot that gave a clear view of the hotel's main entrance where the gym was located.
I plopped down beside her.
"Hey," I said, catching my breath. "Are you done with your workout?"
She was on her phone, sweat pouring down her face.
"Nah, I just wanna do something real quick. I'll continue once I'm done," she replied.
I nodded. Emma was like my gym motivation. She was a light-skinned redhead—tall, but still thick in the right places. The kind of girl people would call slim thick.
I decided to rest beside her too. My eyes kept drifting to the main entrance, waiting… hoping… for a certain someone to walk in. When I realized what I was doing, I quickly pulled out my phone to distract myself. Still, I couldn't help glancing up from time to time.
"Waiting for him?" Emma's voice broke into my thoughts.
I tore my eyes from the entrance and looked at her. Damn—I'd gone back to staring again.
"Who?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
Emma rolled her eyes, not buying it for a second. She tucked her phone into her pocket and stood up. I followed her lead.
"It's clear you're waiting for someone with the way you've been staring at that gate. And we both know only JK gets you acting like that," she said with a smirk.
I smiled, choosing silence over denial.
"Don't worry, he's coming. You know he never misses his Saturday workouts. But for now, let's go use those machines." She pointed toward the stationary bikes. Only two were free.
Ugh. I hated those things. They always made my thighs burn afterwards. I tried to back out.
"Why don't you go ahead and use one? I'll do mine after—"
"You and I both know you'll never ride those bikes unless you're forced to, Zoey. Come on, they're good for burning thigh fat. Let's go."
She grabbed my hand and dragged me over. My face twisted in discomfort. I already dreaded the ache my thighs would feel later.
A few minutes in, I glanced toward the entrance—and there he was.
I'd noticed this before. Chris always walked into a place like he owned it. That confidence… and the fact that he was ridiculously handsome… always commanded attention.
His hair was tied into a neat bun. He wore ash-colored joggers and a matching tank top. His gym shoes were crisp white—spotless. He looked ridiculously good this morning, and I couldn't help but gulp.
Sigh.
He really does have that effect on me.
He made his way to the counter to sign in.
For a second, his eyes scanned the room. Just as they were about to meet mine, I quickly looked away.
I heard a chuckle beside me. Emma was watching me with amusement.
"You really do like this boy, don't you?"
"What do—"
"Don't even bother denying it. It's obvious. I bet even he knows it," she said, cutting me off.
"I'm not denying it. But there's no point accepting it either. He'd never like me back. For all we know, he might even have a girlfriend," I said, a lump in my throat.
A guy like Chris would never see me as more than a gym acquaintance. He was like some perfectly sculpted god. And me? I was overweight. There was no comparison.
"And that girlfriend might be here right now," Emma said slowly.
"What?" I asked, confused. She gestured toward the entrance.
And then I saw it—Chris walking into the gym beside a girl. They were chatting and laughing like they'd known each other for years.
She was stunning. Long black hair tied into a ponytail. Tall, slim, and full in all the right places. Her legs were long and toned—nothing like mine.
I immediately started comparing myself to her. I mean, what was I even thinking? I couldn't possibly compare to someone like that.
Sigh.
I was right. Chris was way out of my league.