The place looked and felt like a mausoleum, just as I suspected it would be. My agenda at the gym seemed simple enough: do a few laps in the pool, workout with a punching bag, lift some weights, and exhaust myself for the walk back to my apartment in the cold. Snuggled inside my warm apartment, maybe I would find some ambition to work on the Greece trip. Maybe not. Only time would tell, of course.
An hour into my workout, Colm walked up to me. I peddled on an elliptical machine inside the weight room. Colm entered the room with a white cotton towel rolled over his broad shoulders. His bare and hairy chest looked edible. The shorts at his center snugged against his private parts. His muscled thighs gleamed with sweat from a previous five-mile run around the inside track, upstairs. Perspiration dotted his popping nipples, navel, and biceps. The look on his face exemplified surprise at the sight of me inside the gym. Maybe I shared the same awkward expression with him. Maybe not.