A year later, the Iron Vault had expanded. Zach had taken on more clients, and Bryan had started coaching a youth swim team, but our private sessions remained sacred.
We had moved from the gym to a shared apartment in the heart of the city, a modern loft with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the skyline. The transition had been seamless, a natural progression of the bond we had forged in the heat of the gym.
One Friday night, we decided to return to where it all began. We closed the gym early, the space feeling nostalgic and charged with memory.
"Remember the first time?" Bryan asked, leaning against the same weight bench where I'd first felt the combined power of their desire.
"How could I forget?" I laughed. "I thought I was going to die of embarrassment."
"You were bea
