Hit the treadmill for a light jog and sweat

You climb onto one of the treadmills near the stretching area and hit the Quick Start button. The machine hums beneath you as you start to move. The view is good from here and it makes you push harder. Lina is still stretching by the mirror. From here, her ass is pure visual perfection, every bend, every shift, every bounce. A work of art with sweat sheen.

To your left, the blonde woman in her twenties hops onto the next treadmill. Tight top, spandex shorts, headphones. She gives you a polite smile before tapping at her screen and starting up. On your right, those two college freshmen are still doing yoga, just within your peripheral vision.

You pick up the pace. No longer just a warm-up.

Your body starts to heat. Heart pumping. Legs burning. You sneak another glance toward Lina, and for a second, you swear she looks back, almost smiling. Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, you crank the speed.

Too fast, maybe. But it feels good to push. To sweat.

And you do sweat. A lot. You always did.

The salty water runs down your neck, chest, arms. The treadmill glistens under your hands as you grip the front bar to stabilize during your cooldown jog. You grab your towel and wipe your face, then your neck, your arms. But you're breathing hard, endorphins are spiking, and you forget to wipe down the machine. Even the belt under your shoes is slick with sweat dripping off of you.

You step off and stretch your arms overhead, walking away without a second thought.

Behind you, the surface gleams wet in the gym light.