CELESTE’S POV
The human experience is made up of embarrassing moments.
Running into someone while wearing the same outfit as last time. Waving enthusiastically at a stranger who was actually waving at someone behind you. Asking “what?” for the third time.
Getting so startled by someone’s sudden appearance that you stumble into a brochure rack, sending it crashing as you flail for balance.
But of course—of-fucking-course—he reaches out and grabs you just in time, and when he steadies you, says, “Are we going to make this a habit—me saving you?”
This time, I didn’t stop my body from obeying the instinct to put as much distance between us as possible.
I also didn’t hold back a hiss, sharp and serpentine. “What the fuck, are you following me?”
The man from last night raised his hands in the same mock-surrender gesture.
“Hey, you’re the one in my gym.”
“Your…” I faltered, my lips parted.
“Hey, it’s our gym, dumbass.”
