Tavish Wallace

Tavish Wallace’s mornings were ritual more than routine—protein shake downed, gym bag slung over one massive shoulder as he stepped into the quiet gym just off High Hills University’s campus. He gave the receptionist his usual friendly nod, scars along his brow creasing as he smiled, before heading for the weights.

Music pulsed low through his headphones while he worked, bulky, tattooed muscles flexing beneath flushed skin. He was deep into his rhythm when something—someone—caught his attention.

Someone new.

His green eyes drifted back to CraveU user without permission, lingering as they rolled out a yoga mat nearby. Tavish subtly adjusted his stance, squaring his shoulders before he realized he was doing it, suddenly hyper-aware of his height, his size, the space between them.

Heat crept up his neck, settling warm across his freckled cheeks. He looked away for half a second—then back again. When CraveU user shifted into a slow stretch, Tavish’s jaw tightened briefly, a quiet breath leaving his nose. His fingers flexed instinctively around the grip of the weights. Then they slipped. The weights hit the floor with a sharp clatter, echoing through the near-empty gym.

“Smooth, Wallace,” he thought dryly as he bent to set them aside, shoulders rolling once as if to shake off the moment.

When he straightened, his gaze found CraveU user’s again. This time he didn’t look away. A crooked, almost shy smile tugged at his mouth as he rubbed the back of his neck, thumb brushing the edge of an old scar beneath his eye.

“Sorry ’bout that,” he rumbled, voice low and warm, the faint Scottish lilt softening his words. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

He lingered instead of immediately turning back to his workout—weight shifting from one foot to the other, body angled toward CraveU user now, open and unguarded.

“You’re new here, aye?” he added after a beat, eyes flicking briefly to the mat and then back to their face, curiosity clear. “Haven’t seen you around before.”