Page 5 of Gym With Benefits

“I kind of am, yeah,” he admitted, then leaned in and lowered his voice. “But it’s nice to actually mean it for once. I totally get what you’re saying about the wedding. Everyone wants to look their best for the photos.”

Or to show up your asshole ex-roommate. Same thing.

“Any other goals?” he asked.

“I guess I’d like to get my arms toned,” I said. “I don’t want to look like I take steroids or anything. But I’d like a little definition, if that’s possible.”

“I know exactly what you mean. We get that request a lot. Sounds like you’ll be doing some cardio, and mixing resistance training in when you can. Let’s start with the former.”

The gym was divided into several large rooms with open doors between them. The area to the left, adjacent to the entry area, was filled with rows of treadmills and other cardio equipment.

“This is the Sweat Sanctuary,” Hunter announced. A sign matching the name hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room. “Treadmills, ellipticals, stepmasters, you name it. Make sure you wipe down the machines after use—there are towel racks and sanitary wipe dispensers throughout the gym. Use as many as you want; they’re refilled regularly.”

About a dozen of the machines were occupied, which created a constant background noise of humming and whirring. I glanced around the room, searching for the asshole I’d bumped into in the parking lot. Fortunately, he was nowhere to be found as Hunter led me down an aisle and through an open doorway.

“Over here is the Muscle Mansion. That’s the official name, but we also colloquially call it the Swole Shed or Shred Shed, depending on if you’re bulking or cutting.”

Bulking. Cutting. I nodded along like I understood what that all meant. The noise in here was more chaotic, plates clanking and banging together from at least ten different stations.

“You’ve got your resistance machines on this side of the room,” Hunter pointed, “and your free weights on the other side. Each machine has a QR code on the side you can scan; it’ll show you how to use it, and what muscle groups it targets. The free weights are a little more complicated if you’ve never used them before. Dumbbells and kettlebells are no big deal, but I’d caution against using barbells or the squat racks unless you know what you’re doing. Oh, and as a general rule: only use one machine at a time.”

“Isn’t that the only way to do it?” I asked with a smirk. “Why would anyone take up more than one at the same time?”

“You’d be surprised,” Hunter replied with an easy smile, like it was no big deal. “And speaking of rules, there’s absolutely no photography allowed in the gym. Privacy is extremely important to us at Capitol Fitness, and we want our customers to feel safe at all times. Obviously we can’t stop people from using their cell phones, but we have a zero-tolerance policy for photography. If you’re caught taking a photo, even just a selfie in the mirror, you’ll be asked to leave.”

“Good! I mean, that won’t be a problem. I’m not an influencer or anything.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said, and he sounded so genuine that I felt like he really meant it. “And of course, if you suspect that someone else takes a photo of you or someone else at the gym, please notify a member of the staff immediately.”

I followed him through the Muscle Mansion, passing every shape and size of person imaginable. There was a tiny woman who looked like a gymnast squatting a barbell with multipleplates on each side, and next to her was a string bean of a man curling dumbbells in front of the mirror. Seeing such a variety, rather than only flawless physical specimens, helped me relax.

“Locker rooms are through here,” Hunter explained. “There’s an entrance here in the Muscle Mansion, and another one that connects to the lobby where my front desk is. Each locker room has seven showers, with soap, shampoo, conditioner, and towels provided. We have a lot of customers who come here during their lunch break, so it’s nice that they can clean up and go back to the office smelling clean and fresh.”

“That’s great,” I said. I was honestly struggling to pay attention because of how cute Hunter was. I couldn’t wait to text David about it.

I reminded myself that I was here to get back in shape, not to look for a boyfriend.

Hunter continued the tour. “Down this hallway are the activity rooms. Spin classes are held in here.” He gestured as we passed a room full of Pelotons. “Class schedule is posted outside the room and online. They’re included with your membership, but we ask that you sign up in advance so we know how many people to accommodate. Some of the classes can get busy, especially after work.”

We passed several squash courts, and then a lap pool.

“The four rooms here at the end are for personal training,” Hunter explained. “We have a number of amazing trainers on staff who can help you meet your goals with personalized care. Your membership includes one free session, in case you’re interested.”

Only one of the rooms was currently occupied. A woman was doing crunches while a trainer wearing the same tank top as Hunter held her ankles together and gave her words ofencouragement. He glanced over at us through the glass, and did a double-take when he saw me. He turned his gaze to Hunter, flashed his eyebrows up for a moment, then returned his attention to the woman doing crunches.

“That’s Brock,” Hunter said. “One of our best trainers. If you want to try free weights, he’s great at perfecting your form.”

Speaking of perfect form, Brock was a hunk in every sense of the word. His arms bulged with muscle as he held the woman’s ankles together, and when she finished her set he stood up and high-fived her. His thighs were like chiseled tree trunks, and I wondered if he was an athlete before becoming a trainer.

The Nutrition Nook was the final stop on the tour; in addition to the smoothie and coffee bar, there were glass-door refrigerators and racks of protein bars and other snacks.

“Everything’s self-checkout. Scan your badge at the kiosk, then scan the item, and it’ll automatically charge whatever credit card is linked to your account.” He grabbed a protein bar and held it up. “These are my favorite. Twenty grams of protein, and no added sugar.”

“You sound like an infomercial,” I teased.

Hunter’s laugh soothed my soul in a way I didn’t realize I needed. “I promise I’m not a paid shill. I’ve just had a lot of protein bars in my life, and these are the best.” He placed it back on the shelf and led me back to the front desk. “How long have you worked at Fisher Investments?”

I gave a start. “Fisher?”