Getting Lina's attention

You don’t even remember what machine you’re using anymore. Lina's feminine presence is like gravity. Every time you move, she’s orbiting closer.

And it's not just her — something about you draws everyone in now. At least their eyes. The college senior on the leg press keeps stealing glances, her cheeks flushed. One of the freshman girls giggles every time you walk past, whispering to her friend. Her nipples are stiff enough to poke through her sports bra. Even the usually aloof, curvy MILF in the corner, the one who never talks to anyone, gave you a once-over that nearly melted the mirror she was squatting in front of.

They're not subtle. They're not shy. Their attitude towards you has done a complete 180. You're stunned. You can barely process it.

Just MINUTES AGO, you were invisible. Before you slipped the ring on, you were lucky to get a polite nod from these girls. Now they're looking at you like you're the only man in the gym.

You silently thank the universe. The gods. The ring. Whatever **** is behind this, it’s powerful. And fucking generous.

You meet Lina'a gaze once while doing curls. She holds it. Just a second too long.

Between sets, you pass each other. Her hand brushes yours — too light to mean anything. Too deliberate to mean nothing. You stand at the water fountain. She queues behind you, close enough that her chest grazes your back when you straighten up. You feel her nipples poking you. Neither of you says a thing.

Later, you stretch your quads, hand to ankle, balancing. She’s on a mat, bent deep in a seated twist, facing you. Her eyes flick down to the outline in your shorts again. Her lip catches between her teeth. She shifts positions slowly, deliberately opening her legs a little wider as she adjusts. You swear you could see the outline of her pussy through the fabric. She holds the stretch longer than necessary. Her tongue traces the corner of her mouth when your eyes lock again.

You spot her setting up a bar for deadlifts. As you move toward her, the busty blonde shifts her stance to give you a better view of her curves, eyes locked on you as if daring you to notice. You walk over, giving Lina a reason to up her game. She's watching from twenty feet away as you close in on the college girl.

"Want a check on your form?"

The blonde knockout arches an eyebrow, lips barely twitching. "If you think I need it."

You kneel behind her, one hand hovering just off her lower back. "Careful," she murmurs. "Wouldn’t want me to lose control and drop something big." You chuckle softly, leaning in just a little more.

"I'm sure you can handle big things. Straight back, tight core. There you go, good girl."

She shifts slightly. Your hand ghosts over her hip. Touching. Barely.

She doesn’t flinch.

By her third rep, she lowers slower. You can almost feel the heat radiating off her.

You rise when she’s done. She turns toward you, breath just a little quick, her golden ponytail swaying with the motion. Close now.

Still no words.

You reach for a towel on the bench. She reaches too. Fingers meet. Pause. Linger. Her thumb brushes yours again, this time sliding a little. She lets her pinky trail along the side of your hand before she pulls away, eyes flicking up to your face. A silent question. A promise.

Her thumb brushes the side of yours.

Still nothing said.

She straightens. Her eyes flick back down for just a second, as if drawn by gravity to the outline in your shorts.

Then she gives you one long look, unreadable to anyone else — but not to you. It's hunger. It's challenge. It's her trying to decide how far she wants to go tonight.

“Thank you,” she says with a quick smile, slinging her gym bag over one shoulder. "But I have to go to work."

She pauses, gives you one last up-and-down look, slow and lingering. “Some other time we should stretch together.”

You nod. “Any time.”

As she walks off, her hips sway a little more than necessary. You watch her go, still trying to understand what your life has become. Just hours ago, girls like that barely noticed you.

Now? She’s the one offering.

You turn back toward the equipment, still stunned. That’s when you hear her voice.

“Hey.”

You spin. It’s Lina. Standing close. Way too close.

“No more games,” she says, eyes locked on yours, voice low and hot. “You’re coming with me.”

You blink. “What?”

She steps even closer, until her breath is brushing your chin. “You heard me.”

Her hand lands lightly on your chest. Fingertips only. Heat blooming under your skin.

“You've been teasing me all night,” she says, lips dangerously near yours. “Now it's my turn.”

Then she turns and starts walking. Toward the back hallway. Past the lockers.

You follow.