Gym daddy an age gap rom.., p.1
Gym Daddy: An Age Gap Romance, page 1
Gym Daddy
An Age Gap Romance
K.E. Monteith
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Content warnings
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
About the author
Books By This Author
Copyright © 2023 K.E. Monteith
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ASIN: B0C1LRCD8Q
ISBN: 9798393474683
Cover design by: K.E. Monteith; Image from: Canva
Printed in the United States of America
If you recognize me from the gym, no you don't
Content warnings
Please note, this book contains sexually explicit scenes not suitable for children.
Chapter One
“Sir, we’ve got a problem.” Rick poked his head into my office, a grimace wrinkling his young face. Great. Just what I needed, another problem.
“What is it this time?” I groaned, trying to massage away the worry lines. My gym had been open for two years now and it was still problem after problem. Things should have evened out by now and frankly, I was getting too old for this shit.
“Jesse called out sick and her Pilates class starts in a couple of minutes.” Rick was already sinking out of view, avoiding the question already forming on my lips. But it didn’t matter, because I knew the answer. He couldn’t cover Pilates because he had a strength training class at the same time. And since pilates started in literally a couple minutes, there wasn’t time to call around to find a replacement. And the only other folks here capable of teaching the class was … me. And the last time I taught a Pilates class was when the gym first opened.
Fuck.
I shuffled through the bottom drawer of my desk and pulled out a basic Pilates class schedule. The instructors might have poked fun at me for having them make sub plans like school teachers, but I was right to have them put in the extra work. It saved us from the negative reviews of a class canceled right before it was scheduled to start.
Now the only problem was if I could remember how to do half of the positions listed in Jesse’s plan.
Fuck.
I rushed to the studio, opening the door to roughly a dozen students, all seated on their mats, pilates balls at their sides. They looked at me, brows raised, heads tilted. I knew most of the attendants, either from events or from when I still covered personal training and classes when the gym first open.
And then I saw the girl in the back. Dark hair, sharp blue eyes, and a band shirt that had been cut and tied in the back. I’d never spoken to her, but she’d caught my eye more times than I’d like to admit, always walking straight past my office and to the studio. I shouldn’t be looking, she had to be at least 20 years younger than me and she was a customer. And right now I should be focused on class, not wondering if I’d be able to sneak a look at her ass.
Except that was exactly what I was doing.
Fuck, it was going to be a long class.
“Hello everyone, I’m Lucas. Jesse is out sick, so I’ll be covering this class tonight.”
That was, without a doubt, the worst Pilates class I’ve ever taken. And I’ve taken a class where I was the only attendant and the instructor decided that meant they should sit a foot in front of me and cheer me own after every move.
As was my suspicion for most men, this Lucas dude was only good to look at. Salt and pepper hair, broad shoulders, and a full face of scruff that I was having inappropriate thoughts about because that was the only thing kept me going through the five-minute plank he had us hold. Five minutes! Jesse only did a minute for a good reason. Planks fucking suck.
And when class was finally done, I was left with unappealing wet spots at my back and under my arms, something that never happened during during the normally low impact exercise. Then the man had the gall to ask people’s opinions on how class went.
Instead of engaging in conversation and spewing my valid criticism, I went straight out the door and to the bench and cubbies just outside the door. The wall was glass, so now I could see, but not hear, the hot Gym Daddy. Just the way God meant.
“You enjoy class, dear?”
I looked over to see Judy, an older woman who somehow seemed to come to every class offered and was always using heavier weights than me. Was I upset that this 80-year-old woman was somehow more fit than my 27-year young ass? No. However, I was insanely jealous. I may have picked this gym because it was an AARP gym and I had the joint issues of a card-carrying member, but I hadn’t expected the older gym members to show me up so hard.
“Class was …” I slipped on my Crocs as I tried to come up with a word that didn’t seem rude. Even if the criticism wasn’t directed at Judy, I didn’t want the sweet old woman to hear my negativity, of which there was a lot. “Challenging.”
“Oh, that’s for sure. Poor man probably hasn’t taught Pilates in years.” Judy laughed, the sound soft and sweet. She was exactly the kind of woman I imagined a grandmother should be. Any second now she was going to pull out a snack from her bag and offer me some.
“Judy.” We both looked up to Lucas, who’d just stepped out of the studio, followed by the few stranglers who headed straight for the locker rooms. Lucas looked at Judy, nodded, then looked at me. I got the feeling he wanted me to introduce myself, but I wasn’t exactly inclined to give this daddy-kink romance book cover model my name after his shitty class. For all the classes I’ve attended at this gym, the instructor always introduced themselves to every individual and asked about any injuries or medical conditions. Mister Gym Daddy didn’t do that. And sure, it’s possible he was only asked to cover class right before it started, but that was far from his only strike.
“Lucas, you’ve met Mia, right? She’s my class buddy.” God bless Judy for smoothing over the awkward moment. I gave the woman a warm smile before standing and extending my hand to Lucas.
“Nice to meet you.” We shook hands and Lucas nodded but didn’t immediately let go of my hand. Great. Old man acting just north of creepy. Except it didn’t actually feel creepy like it would with any other man, it felt … fine. Typical hot guy privilege.
Somehow picking up on my vibe, Lucas let go, clearing his throat before asking, “Did you ladies enjoy class?”
Judy and I exchanged a look and I instantly knew Judy hated the class just as much as I did. She was just better at hiding it than I was. Because based on the way Lucas pulled back and crossed his arms, I must’ve made a pretty bad face. Oops.
“Was it really that bad?” he asked, voice closer to the sound of gravel than actual words. Another issue during class. Hard to focus on the actual words when they’re said in that sexy, grumbled tone.
Actually, maybe it wasn’t that sexy and I was just horny. It had been a while.
“Well, it’s been a while since you’ve taught a class,” Judy said, trying to temper the blow. I chose not to say anything.
“Mia?” The man raised an eyebrow, almost like he was daring me to criticize his shitty performance. And there was no way I could hold my tongue after that look. Or the way he said my name like he was seeing how it tasted on his lips.
“Well, correcting people’s posture by calling out their shirt color is kinda a shit thing to do.” Beside me, Judy stifled a chuckle. Good to know she’s cool with a little profanity.
“Excuse me?” Lucas gasped, shoulders dropping. “I didn’t have time to ask everyone’s names before class.”
“Okay, sure, but that doesn’t make it not a shitty thing to do.”
“Proper posture is important for the exercise,” Mister Gym Daddy argued and I rolled my eyes.
“I know that. But there was no need to call specific people out. Just saying make sure you’re back isn’t arching would’ve gotten the point across just as well.”
Lucas was quiet for a moment, jaw tensing like he was chewing over what he wanted to say but wouldn’t because I was a customer and he could get fired.
“Do you go to a lot of classes here?” Weird follow-up question, but whatever.
“Yeah, I’ve been to pretty much every class offered.” Which was mostly true. There were a couple of classes that were only held during working hours and I couldn’t do barre because of my ankle, but he didn’t need to know that.
“And you’ve enjoyed those classes?”
“Yeah.”
“And personal training?”
“Ew.” It was a knee-jerk reaction bec
Judy, who’d moved to sit on the bench and tie up her shoes, said, “Mia only does classes with me and the girls.”
I nodded in confirmation and Lucas looked horrified. Brown eyes so wide I thought they might pop out.
“You only do the classes? Not the training or the equipment?”
“I prefer group classes, everything else is boring.” I shrugged, trying to pretend that I wasn’t feeling judged for my choice of exercise activities. I mean, who was this man to judge me anyways?
“That’s a whole half of the gym you’re not even using. You’re wasting your money.”
“The number of classes I take a month is more than worth the membership. And what does it matter anyways? I’m sure the owner doesn’t mind that I'm only going to classes, they get my money either way.”
Lucas tensed in front of me.
Beside me, Judy chuckled. “He is the owner, dear.”
Ah, shit. He wouldn’t kick me out just because of a few rude comments, right? It’d be a pain in the ass to find a new class. I really liked this one. Even though the owner is turning out to be a bit of a grumpy asshole.
“And I care that my customers enjoy the gym. The whole gym.” This man was giving off stern, I’m about to give you a lecture on utilizing the things you spend money on vibes. And since he was the owner and I wanted to grab dinner on my way home, I should just back down, mumble an apology, and head straight for the door. Except he opened his mouth again to add, “And I certainly don’t want anyone to feel like they’re not getting their money's worth.”
Sexy gym daddies really should just keep their mouths shut.
“I do. Most Pilates studios are like a hundred bucks for four classes a month. I pay the same here for unlimited classes. I think you’re just undervaluing the classes because you’re too busy catering to gym bros that grunt and sweat all around the rest of the gym.”
“That’s not what we do here,” he argued, stepping a bit closer and looking down at me. Must’ve hit a sore spot. Good, I’ll poke it again for good measure.
“Oh really? Then why else do you keep moving around the Pilates and yoga classes in favor of those stupid group trainings? I’ve had to change my workout schedule almost every month because shit keeps getting rescheduled.”
Lucas took a long, controlled breath. He looked between me and Judy before settling his gaze back on me. I could practically see the argument he wanted to make in his eyes fighting against the desire to not make a scene. I was in favor of hashing it out because … I dunno, I was just in the mood to argue and I was admittedly getting off a little on arguing with this older, sexy man. But unfortunately, Mister Gym Daddy did not put me in my place.
“I’m sorry that’s been your experience. We’ll take that in mind when confirming next month's schedule.”
Boring.
“Right, you do that,” I mumbled, grabbing the rest of my things from the cubby and ignoring the way his mouth parted as if to say something else. I didn’t need to waste time on men that weren’t going to fuck me.
Chapter Two
The next day, I sat in my office, staring at my computer, at the spreadsheet that held gym members' information. I could look up Mia. I could figure out just how young she was and write off any stray thoughts for good.
Except that would be an invasion of privacy.
And also because after having her argue with me for one measly minute, I didn’t want to hear that I couldn’t have her. I wanted to live in a world where I could fantasize about her just a little bit longer.
I’d known the class had gone horribly. I was short on time and stressed. Of course, it’d be shit. But Mia was the only one who’d said anything. She might’ve tried to play it off at first, but I could see her face the whole class. She hated having me there, from the second I stepped in. She scrunched her nose when I selected the music. Sucked in her breath when I explained the warm-up. And rolled her eyes any time I called out a form correction. Had Judy not been sitting with her, she might’ve started yelling the second I stepped out of class. And I deserved it.
Deserved it but still thought about getting her on her knees for the attitude.
Fuck. I needed to burn off some steam. I hadn’t been this horny since I was a fucking teenager and got my first girlfriend.
I snatched up a bottle and towel and headed straight for the treadmills. Or at least that was the plan. But I had to pass the hall that led to the locker rooms and studios. And standing in the center of that hall was Mia.
She was seated on one of the waist-high cots trainers used to help with stretches, fiddling with the TheraGun. She switched out the head and twisted her arm around to reach her lower back. Seemingly unsatisfied, she tilted her arm left, then right. Then she grumbled and switched heads again.
“Would you like some help with that?” I should’ve walked on by, should’ve gotten someone else to help her, but I couldn’t help myself. Mia looked at me over her shoulder, brown waves falling into her face. Her brow furrowed as she looked me up and down, but her eyes still light up with something that I wanted to read as attraction.
“No, thank you.” She kept her voice polite, turning before I had a chance to respond. But given that I had become some sort of glutton for her yelling at me, I set my things aside and joined her. She didn’t look up as I moved closer and instead focused on snapping the next head in place.
“You’re trying to get your lower back, right?” I stepped over to the display and pulled out the one head she hadn’t grabbed. “This one’s the best for that.”
Mia looked at the piece I held out for her, chewing on her lip. I wondered how argumentative she was when she wasn’t trying to look polite. Was she thinking of ways to deny my help right now, how she could argue that she knew what she was doing? I didn’t get an answer though, because whatever she was contemplating, she pushed it aside to take the piece with a mumbled thanks.
I knew that was my cue to leave. That as soon as she had the head snapped in place and turned on the gun, my duty to her as a customer was done. But I was too damn attracted to her to turn away.
“Don’t you have more important things to do than stare at me, Mister Gym Owner?” Mia grumbled, tilting dangerously forward to maneuver the gun down her back. The reappearance of her attitude made me smile.
“I’d say helping my customers is pretty important.”
Mia huffed and rolled her eyes, making a shooing motion with her free hand. “Yeah, well you’ve helped me, so move along.”
“You sure about that?” I nodded to her awkward hold on the gun and she shuffled in place.
“I’d do better if you weren’t looking,” she murmured before she hopped off the cot and turned away from me. She braced one elbow against the cot, the other arm twisting around her back to position the gun. She turned it on and immediately winced.
“Let me help.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think better of them. But I didn’t like seeing her in pain. I told myself I’d feel the same for any customer, but that was too blatant of a lie for me to stomach. So I told myself this was the last time I’d offer to help her and then I’d take the hint and leave her alone if she said no again.
Mia turned and her eyes met mine. She looked at me for a long moment and I tried not to seem nervous. Still, I crossed my arms, fingers gripping tightly as I awaited her answer.
She took her time looking me over, her eyes dropping down to my waist, maybe lower. I shifted on the balls of my feet. Her eyes lazily came back to meet mine and she smirked.
“All right, fine, let’s see what you got Mister Gym Daddy. Why not?” Mia stood upright, shoulders relaxing as she turned off the massage gun and handed it over. As the gun’s weight settled in my hand, her words repeated over and over in my head. Mia didn’t acknowledge what she said and I questioned whether I actually heard her call me Daddy as she settled down on the cot.
