Page 67 of Filled

I should hate him for it. I don’t.

Cool-down stretches. The five of us in a loose circle on the mats—me, Dante, Cruz, Micah, Jonah. Dakota’s perched on a stack of mats with a water bottle, watching, ankles crossed.

“So,” Jonah says, voice deliberately casual. “Are we doing dinner Friday when Theo gets back, or what?”

“He’ll want Eclipse,” Cruz says.

“He always wants Eclipse. He owns Eclipse.”

“That’s why.”

“Fair.”

Micah stretches forward over his leg. “Boss in?”

“Boss is always in if Theo’s there.”

“Cute.”

“Disgusting,” Cruz says fondly. “Forty years old, mooning around like a teenager. It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re thirty-one, Cruz.”

“And I’m not mooning around like a teenager, am I.”

“Aren’t you?” Dante says, and doesn’t look up from his hamstring.

The mats go quiet.

Cruz doesn’t answer. He just smiles, slow and easy, and his eyes flick to Dakota and then to me, and then back to his stretch.

Micah’s biting his lip, trying not to laugh. Jonah’s openly grinning. Even Ray, from his corner, makes a sound that might be amusement—though it could also be a cough. You never really know with him.

“Okay,” Victor calls, walking past with his clipboard. “Whatever this is, it’s contained. I don’t see it, I don’t hear it, I don’t know about it. Brady, ice your ribs. Dante, foam roll your hip. Cruz, stop making faces at people. Dakota, you’re with me for the next twenty minutes, I want to talk through your conditioning numbers.”

Dakota slides off the mats. As she passes me, her hand brushes the back of my neck, just for a second, just enough that my breath stutters.

“Good work,” she says, low.

She’s gone before I can do anything with that, my dick stirs in my pants on cue.

Cruz watches her go. Dante watches her go. I watch her go.

Then Cruz turns to me, claps me on the back of the neck like he did before, and his thumb traces a small circle against my hairline.

“Three weeks,” he says quietly. “You’re gonna be ready.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re looking good out there,” Cruz says.

Dante’s hand lands on my shoulder. Squeezes once.

I exhale. The ache in my ribs, in my legs, in the space behind my breastbone that’s been throbbing all afternoon, eases a fraction. The throbbing in my shorts, though? That one only gets worse with their hands on me.

Across the gym, Jonah’s already on his phone, presumably texting Theo about cookies. Micah’s helping Ray sort the training mitts. Victor’s leaning in his office doorway, Dakota sitting on the desk inside, the two of them deep in some conversation.

It’s just the gym. Just another Tuesday. Just sweat and resin—the hum of the AC and the soft thump of someone hitting the heavy bag in the back.