"Isn't that awesome?!"

The locker room smelled of chalk, sweat, and cheap disinfectant, the overhead lights buzzing softly as they cast harsh white glow on the rows of gray lockers. Mindi stood barefoot in her loose navy sweatpants, hands laced behind her head, elbows flared wide in a classic double-biceps pose that made every inch of her upper body explode with size.

Her biceps rose like twin mountain peaks, round and split, thick blue veins threading over the surface and disappearing into the deep separations. Sweat still clung to her skin from the last set of heavy curls, making the striations in her shoulders glint whenever she breathed. Below them, her pecs pushed forward in heavy, rounded slabs—freckles scattered across the broad expanse, the deep valley between them catching shadows and droplets of perspiration alike. Every tiny flex sent a ripple through the muscle, the fibers visibly shifting under the thin skin. Her abs were etched in sharp blocks, eight deep bricks framed by obliques that flared out and tucked into the low waistband of her pants, veins snaking downward like rivers heading to sea.

A torn sports bra lay in pieces on the bench behind her—the casualty of trying to wrestle it over those unstoppable pecs after tonight's workout.

Mindi's golden eyes sparkled, cheeks flushed pink beneath her freckles as she grinned wide enough to show teeth. "It didn't fit!!!" she burst out, voice high with pure, giddy excitement. "Isn't that awesome?!"

Across from her, Brooke—smaller, teal-haired, still in her cropped red hoodie with the faded "500" across the chest—had frozen mid-step, towel dangling forgotten from one hand. Her own stomach was flat and lightly lined from training, but next to Mindi it looked almost delicate. Brooke's big eyes were locked upward, tracing the sheen on those colossal arms, the way the traps rose thick and corded into Mindi's neck, the sheer impossible width of her lats pressing against the air itself.

Heat rushed to Brooke's face. She raised both hands, half in protest, half in helpless awe. "MINDI!!!" she yelped, voice cracking. "Put on a damn bra!"

Mindi's grin softened into something shy, almost pleading, even as she held the pose a second longer—letting the pump throb, letting Brooke look. A small, hopeful tilt of her head asked without words: Do you like what you see?

Brooke swallowed hard, eyes still glued to the glistening sweep of muscle. She couldn't quite make herself look away.