Declan
Sweat pours down my forehead and face as I lift the weights over my shoulders. My back settles on the bench, and my biceps flex up and down with every movement. Taking a breath, I lift the bar and inhale. My chest rises and falls erratically with my exertions. After a few more sets, I lay the bar on the rack and sit upon the bench.
When you’re in the business that I’m in, being in great shape could mean a matter of life or death. I try to work out at least four days a week at my home gym. I always feel good after a workout, but this time my thoughts are far away. Every time I close my eyes, I see them. I can’t stop thinking about Santana and Connor. My thoughts are tortured with thoughts of them. I wonder if they’re okay or if they need me. My attraction to Santana hasn’t dimmed
