The steady thud of weights echoed through the local gym. Asher was drenched in sweat, shirt plastered to his skin as his muscles strained with each rep. Three hours straight—no breaks, no excuses. That had been his summer routine, day in and day out, and the transformation showed.
Most people would have collapsed by now, but Asher kept going. He didn't know why, but his body could take it—like it was built for this kind of punishment. Maybe it was his metabolism, maybe something else. He never questioned it too much.
With a final grunt, he finished his last set and let the weights clatter down. His chest heaved as he wiped sweat from his brow, the mirror across the room reflecting a figure he almost didn't recognize anymore.
The locker room was quiet when he stepped inside. He peeled off his drenched shirt, swapping it for a clean one, his hair still damp as he ran a towel over his face. Soon enough, he was outside again—this time heading home for his other personal training.
The heavy sandbag in his garage swayed violently as his fists struck again and again, the sound echoing through the night air. Punches, elbows, knees—each movement sharper, more controlled than the last. Since protecting Erica yesterday, he had thrown himself into fighting with new purpose. Boxing, kickboxing, even bits of martial arts he found online—whatever he could study, he tried.
And to his own surprise… it all came naturally. The footwork, the stances, the strikes—things that should have taken months to grasp, he picked up in a night. He wondered why people said it was so hard.
Hours blurred together until the evening came. He showered, threw on a simple white T-shirt and black pants, and grabbed his car keys. After thinking about the outfit for over twenty minuetes, he had thought that it was appropriate. He just had to go to her place after all.
The drive was quiet, his nerves kicking in the closer he got. Eventually, he pulled up in front of Erica's house. Heart pounding, he knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" a woman's voice called from inside.
"It's me, Asher," he replied politely.
The door creaked open, revealing Erica's mother. Her eyes widened immediately. "Asher… Erica told me you'd changed, but… not this much." She ushered him in, still staring at him with surprise.
"H-Hi, Mrs. Reyes…" Asher said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
She gave him a warm smile. "How are you, Asher?"
"G-Good, thanks…" he muttered, cheeks tinged red.
"I know it's hard to live alone," she said gently. "I've told you before, if you ever need something, just call us, alright—"
"Mom…"
Erica's voice cut through. She appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing robes that left very little to the imagination.
"Don't bother Asher too much," she added boldly.
"Erica!" her mother gasped—not just at her daughter's interruption, but at her appearance. "Asher is here, you can't dress like that!"
Asher nearly choked, his face turning crimson.
"Oh, come on, Mom…" Erica said with a mischievous smile, striding over and grabbing Asher's hand. "He's gonna see me all tonight anyway, so what's the problem?"
Before Asher could even react, she was dragging him upstairs, his face burning hotter with every step.
Mrs. Reyes just sighed, shaking her head as she watched them go. "Youth…" she muttered under her breath, though a small smile tugged at her lips.
...
The bedroom door clicked shut behind them. Erica gave Asher a playful push, sending him tumbling onto the bed. Before he could even react, she straddled him, her lips crashing onto his in a passionate kiss.
His hands hovered awkwardly at her sides, his whole body stiff. "W-Wait, Erica…" he stammered, cheeks burning.
"What?" she asked, her fingers tracing down his chest, stopping at the ridges of his sculpted abs.
Asher swallowed hard. "We're going too fast…"
"I already told you…" Erica pressed a quick smooch to his lips, eyes gleaming. "We've already had lots of dates."
Just as she leaned in again, he pulled back slightly, brow furrowed. "And when? Yesterday was supposed to be our first date…"
Erica froze for a moment, then let out a long sigh. She rolled off him and sat upright on the bed. "You're so boring sometimes," she said, almost pouting. "You just killed the mood."
Asher blinked, guilt flashing across his face. He sat up beside her, unsure what to say. But before he could, Erica's voice softened, almost tender.
"Every time we were out together," she began quietly, "that was a date for me. When two people who love each other meet up… isn't that a date?" She looked at him warmly, the teasing edge gone from her tone.
Asher couldn't help but chuckle. "And how do you know I love you too?" he teased, the usual shyness fading in the comfort of her words.
"So you don't love me?" Erica tilted her head, mock offense in her eyes, though her lips curled into a smirk.
Instead of answering, Asher leaned in and kissed her—deeply, fiercely—pushing her back down onto the mattress. "Of course I love you," he murmured against her lips, breathless. "I'll always love you."
Their foreheads pressed together, both smiling now, their laughter mixing with the sound of their quickening breaths.
Asher trailed kisses along her neck, gentle at first. Erica gasped, arching slightly against him.
"I love you more when you take the initiative," she whispered, her voice husky, her fingers threading through his hair.
Asher grinned, emboldened, and began to slowly undress her. His shyness was gone, burned away in the heat of the moment, leaving only the certainty of his feelings—and her.
To be continued...
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