Hold Fast, page 4
“He meaning Zack?”
“Hey, I’m talking about work!”
“No, no. Though it’s funny that you’re asking about Zack without asking about Zack. But no, I meant I don’t think it’d be Zack making that decision. It might be Val, who’s the manager. I hope it wouldn’t be Terence.” Milo’s nose pinched. “He’s a serious douche. Uh, don’t tell Zack I said that. I think Zack kind of…well, no one likes Terence. But I think Zack doesn’t want him to die in a fire as much as, uh, some people do.”
“That’s gotta be a story.”
Milo took another drink. “He misgendered me when I first started working there. And you know, it might have been an accident. Like, sometimes it feels malicious. It wasn’t like that. It was just…careless. Everyone else was really, you know, supportive. So it stood out to me that he wasn’t.”
“Yeah. Still, that fucking sucks.”
“It did.” Milo tugged on his hair in that way he had when he was uncomfortable or nervous, a jolting kind of tug. “But I think Zack would go for that, as long as it didn’t require a bunch of money to get started. You could also maybe offer it as a perk to current members? You know, like ‘Can’t get in to the gym today? Login to our online portal and do a workout from your office!’”
“You’re a genius! That’s exactly the direction it could go. Start with yoga. No reason you couldn’t do aerobics or dance or kickboxing or anything else.”
“Some gyms have videos online for like how to belay, and basic safety stuff. Or the weights are really dominated by a certain kind of buff dude, so it’d be cool to do some really straightforward ‘how to lift’ videos, for free, and publicize them.”
“Exactly. That’d be great.” If your weights section didn’t look like it belonged in an abandoned inner city high school. He’d learned pretty quickly after Milo got the Crux job not to say anything that sounded even a little bit critical of the gym.
Milo sighed. Loudly. “So since you’re pulling some kind of weird ethics thing, I’ll just fill you in on all the questions you want to ask, but aren’t.” He held up a finger. “Zack hardly ever dates. And I don’t think he’s had an actual boyfriend in the entire time I’ve known him. Unless he’s way undercover with it, which I could kind of see?”
“I really don’t need the intel.”
“But you want it.”
He almost denied the curiosity. Which would have been ludicrous. Instead, he sat back. “He’s got gorgeous eyes.”
“God, I know. Okay, point two: he’s intense. Seriously. Like, I volunteered to help him with inventory my first year. And the whole time Randi and Bear were like, ‘Ha ha ha ha, the new guy volunteered to help Zack with inventory, that’s so hilarious.’”
“And? What was so bad about doing inventory?”
“Oh, it wasn’t bad. Just super intense. Like whatever you do, don’t tell him you think you got the right toilet paper count. Because he’ll make you go back and recount, and if you ask how much it could possibly matter…” Milo shook his head. “Just don’t. Never ask if something matters. Stuff matters to Zack.”
“Is that point three?”
“Uh huh.”
“How many points are there? I need to know how to ration my beer.”
Milo threatened him with a ketchup bottle. “Point four: don’t fuck with the man’s pens.”
“Oh, I am definitely fucking with his pens. Are you joking? They’re in rainbow order, Milo. He’s a gay man—I’m assuming, though he could be bi or pan, but he’s obviously into dudes—with his pens in a rainbow array.”
“Ha, I know. It’s adorbs.” Milo nodded slowly, staring across the table. “Yeah, I can kind of see this. You and him.”
“Man, we just met. We’ve exchanged a few emails. It’s not a thing,” Isaiah said with a lot more feeling than necessary. He was relatively certain Zack had enjoyed their flirtation in person, but he’d been cool and distant over email, even when Isaiah had been playful.
“Yeah, basically the only problem I can see with this is that there’s pretty much no way Zack’s gonna date a coworker. You want my advice? Get to know him while you’re working with the gym, and hit on him when the contract’s up.”
“Huh. You think?”
Milo saluted with the last of his beer. “Yep. Good luck, brother.”
Isaiah saluted back. “Thanks.”
They drank.
“Okay, I’m done being your love doctor. Let’s dance.”
“Damn right.”
Isaiah was only three years older, but it took less than an hour of dancing for him to feel it. He left Milo with friends and went home.
An email from Zack was waiting for him when he logged in before bed, proposing they meet up after closing the following day, or that they put it off to the following Sunday if that didn’t work.
If Friday or Saturday are significantly more convenient for you, we can also do one of those. The gym closes at ten on those nights, and honestly, I’m too old to be out much later than that. :-) Let me know. -Z
Isaiah realized he was grinning at that smiley. He wrote back to say the following day would work just fine. And added a winky face.
Yeah, that felt good. A little shot of dopamine, or whatever it was that tickled the brain when a hot uptight guy let his hair down a little bit. Now if he’d just relax like that in person, Isaiah might get a feeling for if he was free to pursue or if Milo was right and he should hold back.
Things to think about tomorrow. Tonight he needed to get some sleep. And plan a couple of all levels yoga episodes.
Chapter Five
They met at the side door of the gym after closing, which felt somehow sinister even though Zack had keys. He was also anxiety-sweating, which didn’t make sense, because this wasn’t a date.
Isaiah shifted the two heavy-looking work lights he was carrying. “You know if anyone sees a black man breaking in, they’re gonna call the cops, right?”
“That would be unpleasant.” Zack ushered him in and locked the door behind them. “Although—cultural assumptions about the criminality of black men aside—as long as they only called Val, we’d be okay. I let him know what we were doing. I may have left out where we’re planning to do it. And really, how many burglars bring oversized flashlights?”
“I don’t have high expectations for the critical thinking skills of the kinds of folks who see a black man and call the police.”
Zack winced. “Touché. And I was—teasing. Sorry.”
“I wasn’t trying to get up on a soapbox.”
Their first recording session was certainly starting off with maximum awkwardness. “Oh, I was raised by people on soapboxes. That was nothing.” He led the way up the short flight to the office. “I’m a little nervous doing this. Or I guess doing it without permission.” He withheld a nervous laugh as he let them into the office.
Nothing says “professional” like immediately being completely unprofessional, and drawing your independent contractor’s attention to it.
“I was actually just talking to Milo last night about who we’d need to talk to for permission to expand the program. He has some solid ideas.” Isaiah shook his arms out after setting down the lights.
A number of thoughts immediately leapt to Zack’s mind: he was talking to Milo about marketing? It’s nice he’s friends with his exes. Do they still have sex? Stop thinking about Isaiah having sex with people. Why are you weirded out by the idea he might have had sex with Milo last night? Seriously, stop thinking “Isaiah” and “sex” in the same sentence!
He cleared his throat. “Are we expanding the program already?”
And oh. Oh god. Isaiah had pulled off his hoodie and was stretching his arms over his head, bending from side to side. Liquid heat slid under Zack’s skin, making sweat pop out on his temples and under his arms. Tight white tank contrasting with dark skin, the firm muscles of Isaiah’s back shifting under fabric, the incredibly sexy globes of his ass…
Isaiah turned, and Zack looked away fast, patting down his pockets like he was searching for something.
“I process out loud,” Isaiah said apologetically. “I was telling Milo that one of my ideas was to have an online membership program with access to additional videos along with a monthly fee. Or even a relatively low annual fee. He said that could be a perk for current members, too. He has a whole angle on it already.” He smiled. “It was good.”
It didn’t sound like they’d hooked up. Not that it was any of Zack’s business. “That’s intriguing. And I think we could at least do a pilot program without…soliciting any potentially difficult support.”
“Sure. Do that after you’ve got proof of concept.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
And it was considerably inconvenient how long they smiled at each other without speaking. For one, it was inefficient. They had a job to do. Or Isaiah did, and Zack was nominally supervising, or at least being present on behalf of the gym. For two, Zack didn’t particularly enjoy the sensation of…yearning he felt.
Desire was dangerous. Desire complicated everything, and certainly had no place in work. Zack pushed it aside. “How can I help you set up?”
“How do you feel about cleaning the windows? The other thing that needs to happen is lighting, but I’m probably the best person to do that.”
“I’m a mean window cleaner. I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks, Zack.”
Damn, damn, damn. He always knew he was on the road to a messy crush when he started replaying how a guy said his name. And hoping to hear it again soon.
Zack went in search of newspapers and cleanser, promising himself he’d be totally rational by the time he returned.
It took about an hour to light the shot to Isaiah’s satisfaction. He was recording with a seemingly tiny video camera, on top of an adjustable tripod that—to Zack’s relief—stood on the floor. He’d briefly worried about having to shift furniture around in Terence’s office, and the necessity of returning everything to its correct position before morning. Not that Terence ever came in on Fridays, or weekends, or more than once or twice a month. But still.
The powerful lights were set off to the sides so they’d light Isaiah without reflecting on the section of glass that would be in the video. When Zack went around to look at the little screen on the camera that showed what it was going to record, he was impressed. Isaiah had figured out how to get The Rock in the frame with an almost dreamy backdrop of stained glass.
“Sorry this is taking so long.” Isaiah came around to stand beside him and study the screen. “Yeah, that’s what I was going for. I’m going to stand on my mat and do some big movements. Will you just watch to make sure everything’s in the shot?”
“I’ll try. I don’t have my reading glasses on me, but I should be able to tell.”
“Reading glasses?”
“Don’t make fun of me. I’m not even thirty. Yet.”
Isaiah pressed a hand to his heart. “Not making fun. Just picturing how cute you’d look with glasses perched on the tip of your nose.”
Oh jeez. Zack leaned closer to the screen. “I’m ready.”
And he’d thought he liked the sound of his name when Isaiah said it, but that lusty laugh shot straight to his cock. He sank lower so his face wouldn’t be visible, though honestly, the camera was way too small for hiding behind.
Not that he was hiding.
Not that his face was almost touching the tiny screen where Isaiah was now stretching…and bending…and oh…god, he looked longer doing yoga than he did when he was standing still…
“You know, Milo told me you’d never date someone you considered a coworker.”
He stood up so quickly his head spun. “Excuse me?” His tone was a whipcrack in the quiet room.
Isaiah slowly came out of his bend. “That made it sound like…it wasn’t. I was attempting to be light and flirtatious.”
“By discussing me behind my back with your ex?”
“Sorry. That is definitely what that sounded like. He was more telling me not to get my hopes up, and not to take it personally when you inevitably rejected me.”
Zack’s heart beat a staccato rhythm against his ribs. “Which part of that was supposed to reassure me?” He waved a hand at Isaiah’s cringe. “I don’t think you moved out of the frame. I have some work to do in my office.”
Then he ran away.
The worst part was that Milo was right; Zack was in no position to respond to whatever Isaiah was hoping would happen between them. Maybe if he’d been a climbing instructor it wouldn’t have mattered, but he was effectively second in command at the gym, and he wouldn’t trade his professional ethics for a man.
Even if that man looked magnificent in yoga pants.
Chapter Six
That could have gone better.
Isaiah took a few deep breaths and centered himself on his mat. He’d definitely screwed up. And it was avoidable: he’d lost his head for a second there, chasing the intoxicating high of flustering Zack. He’d taken it too far, and now Zack was gone.
In his office. “Working.” Which was probably going about as well as “recording.”
All wasn’t lost. Zack would appreciate hard work, even if he found Isaiah personally reprehensible.
Yeah, that wasn’t gonna fly.
Isaiah moved through a flow he thought would work for the introductory video, describing his movements out loud, getting himself back into the habit of talking as he took up poses. It had been a while since he’d actually taught and he wanted to make sure his voice and body were warmed up before hitting record.
Ten minutes later he started the real video.
He’d known he was out of practice, and that the first video (or three) would require the brunt of the editing, but he couldn’t shake the off-balance feeling of that conversation with Zack, and it was leading to a whole lot of stop-starts he’d have to cut later.
“Get it the fuck together,” he muttered.
Sip of water. Double check to make sure the shot was still centered and in focus. Listen for footsteps on the stairs.
He started over completely with silent apologies to his future self, who’d have to sort this video out later.
This time the flow actually flowed, and he felt less stilted talking to an empty room. A smooth, cool competence filled him. His muscles knew what they were about, the words came to his lips without fumbling or hunting for them. He finished a first flow, then moved into another. He’d only planned two episodes, but what the hell. Go for broke he thought as he began a third.
There was no high like being damn good at a thing.
He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and exhausted by the time he finally said, “Namaste” and sat in stillness until he was sure he had enough for the last shot.
When he opened his eyes he realized he was looking directly across at Zack, who appeared to be sitting just outside the door.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were recording. The stairs made a little bit of noise. I hope it doesn’t mess up the videos.”
Isaiah smiled, inhaling and exhaling like the room was full of pure oxygen. Yeah, they’d had a moment before. But right now he felt nothing but love for the world. “I’m sure it didn’t. I have software that should take care of it, and I might add a low music track to the background anyway. Oh man, I am buzzing. Thanks for this. I forgot how much I liked teaching.”
“You’re…I mean, you seem like you’d be a very good teacher.” Zack’s words were a little stiff, a little clipped at the edges. “I don’t do yoga.”
“Mmm, why?” Another stretch, fingers extending past his toes. “God, that feels so fucking good.”
“Uh. Yoga makes me tense.”
“Damn. Why’s that?”
Zack rearranged himself so he was inside the office, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. “It’s so stressful, how you have to get it perfect or you risk doing damage to yourself.”
“That’s why you start slow and build little by little.” Don’t look at his lips. Or his eyes. Or the way his fingers are curled around each other. Or the angle of his knees.
“I’m not great at little by little,” Zack admitted. “And I’m especially not good at being bad at new things.”
“How do you avoid it without getting bored? I’m always trying something new. I can’t commit.”
“I commit. I commit hard.” Zack’s eyes crinkled. “Jeez, everything sounds dirty right now. I just mean that I go deep into—nope, that’s not better.”
“You prefer specialization to differentiation?”
“Thank you. Yes. I don’t mind limiting my experience, but I need to be exceptional at the things I choose to concentrate on. If that makes sense.”
“I get that. I’m the opposite: breadth not depth. Though I like to think I have game. At least, in yoga. Among other things.”
Zack shot him a look. “You don’t need me to tell you that you have game, Isaiah.”
You already did, babe. “Nah. I don’t need a lot of external validation.” He stretched, intentionally showing off.
A snort from the other side of the room. “Is the camera still recording right now?”
“Damn. Yeah. I have no idea how long the sessions I just filmed were. I’ll set up my phone as a clock next time so I can pace each episode correctly.” Standing called for another stretch, less showy, more for that rush of muscle aches that always made him feel invincible after a workout. “God, that’s good.”
“Uh huh.”
When Isaiah opened his eyes, Zack was studiously looking away. Shy? Embarrassed? “Listen, about earlier. I think that came off sounding a lot more sleazy than it was, and I’m sorry about that. Really sorry about that. I’ll dial back the flirtation. No problem.”
Zack also stood, though he stayed well out of the way as Isaiah started packing up. “I’m sorry. And I know my signals haven’t been as clear as they should be. This is where I work. Professionalism is important.” He gestured ruefully at the office. “It may be hard to tell based on current evidence, but this is uncharacteristic of me. I’d much prefer to know that I’m within the letter and spirit of the law.”
