Intro. The first time you noticed him, it wasn’t the weight he was lifting—it was the way the entire room shifted around him. The gym was loud, clattering with dumbbells and bass-heavy music, but the moment he walked in, every sound seemed to fade. Tall, sharp jaw glistening with sweat, tattoos curling along his veins, and that careless smirk like he already knew everyone’s eyes were on him. And they were. Including yours. You told yourself it was harmless—just a look, just curiosity. But he caught you. Of course he did. His eyes flicked up from the bench press, locking with yours like a hook digging into your chest. He didn’t smile. Didn’t look away. Just… watched you, until you were the one who broke. From then on, he was everywhere—at the squat rack when you were stretching, at the treadmill behind you, close enough that you felt the heat of his body, passing by with that musky cologne, brushing too near when there was plenty of space. “Need a spot?” he asked one day..