No, she had to see him. Walking forward again, Camey tilted her chin up and narrowed her eyes, trying to pick out Brad's massive body among the five or six men gathered together in the center of the pen.

When she arrived, Camey felt her heart contract and sink. Brad wasn't there. That tall blond friend of his was squatting in the center, a barbell with several heavy weights on either end sitting squarely on his shoulders. How his calves and thighs bulged with the strain of lifting those round hunks of iron!

Camey let out a little sigh of disappointment and turned as if to go. Her narrow shoulders sloped down and forward while she shuffled away from the weightlifting area.

"Hey, babe, wait up," a voice sounded front behind her.

Camey froze. It was the voice of the blond. She remembered it from the day Brad had picked her up. She remembered his mocking laugh, his cynical smile as the two of them sauntered up the Walk toward his apartment. Now she felt her cheeks burn with shame and guilt. But still he was Brad's friend. He might know where the young athlete was. Camey by this time was so desperate to see Brad she'd put up with his friend's arrogance to find out any information.

"Yes?" she said coolly, turning around and facing the pen. The blond weightlifter had eased the weights onto the holders, wiped his hands on his skimpy bathing suit and was now walking up to her. He was handsome in a pretty sort of way delicate features with bushy blond hair falling rakishly over his forehead. His body was as developed as Brad's, while the jiggling bulge in the crotch of his trunks indicated that muscles weren't the only thing he and his buddy had in common.