Chapter Nine JoshFriday is chest-and-triceps day, my personal favorite muscle group to hit. I save the best workout for the end of the week to add a little icing onto the cake that is the two days of freedom ahead of me. I could be biting into that cake by now too, if it weren’t for my slow-ass lifting partner.
From my vantage point as Brody’s spotter, I have the pleasure of watching every bead of sweat form on his forehead as he pounds out reps on the bench, huffing and puffing the whole time. Dude’s been out of the gym for a few measly days with his little gluten incident, and suddenly he’s acting like he’s never picked up a barbell in his life.
“Come on, slacker. Pick up the pace,” I tease.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy my best friend is no longer on the brink of death by bread, but
