My heart hammers a frenzied beat against my ribs.
It couldn’t be her.
The odds would be laughable—astronomical, even.
Dylan would laugh himself silly if I told him my heart nearly stopped beating. He’d tell me I was insane—and maybe I am.
But as the woman with the fiery crown of hair tied up in a knot of controlled chaos stands in front of me, I can’t quite put the thought to rest.
Despite myself, my gaze drifts over her collarbone, but the birthmark—the distinct heart shape that I’d all but memorized as I kissed it that night—would be hidden under her high-necked workout shirt.
That is, if it’s even there.
In fact, with the way she’s staring at me—with a vivid clash of disarray and determination, her green eyes wide, I’m not entirely certain.
Carlie’s eyes dart to Jillian and back to me as she decides her fate. It doesn’t appear she’s all too thrilled with the prospect of switching to Jillian.
Good.
“What’ll it be?” I clear my throat and shoot her a reserved smile, the one I give to new clients who seem like they’d bolt at any hint of intimidation. “Ready to jump into the fire with me?”
Her eyes round, the whites embracing her green irises all the way as she nods.
“Yeah, fire. Jumping—great.Love fire.” She pulls up short, raising a hand to her cheek. “I mean, notactual fire,it might ruin my outfit. Not that it’s a great outfit, but it’s the only one I really like at the moment. So … just, you know, the metaphoric—workout—kind of fire,” she stammers, a mess of words and wide-eyed glances that somehow amplify her charm. “Good, god. Someone stop me.”
I can’t help but grin and exhale. While there’s a hit of disappointment, it’s pretty clear this woman isn’t the one from Nocté.
“Right, metaphoric fire it is, then.” I gesture toward the mats. “How about we start with some warm-up stretches?”
She nods, enthusiasm waning slightly at the prospect of actual exercise, it seems. It makes me wonder why she’s motivated to be here.
Something to ask her when she’s more comfortable.
As she follows me to the mats, her movements are a dance of awkward angles and misplaced steps. To be honest, it’s endearing in its rarity in this place.
“Take a seat and just watch what I do. Then, you do the same. Think you can handle that?” I asked dropping down onto the mat.
She nods tentatively, a small squeak escaping her lips as she sits down opposite me.
I roll through toe touches, figure fours, and even some knee and hip mobility stretches, since it looks like her joints could benefit from a little strengthening. Her hamstrings are awfully tight.
However, watching her attempt to mirror my stretches is like observing a fawn on ice—there’s a willingness, but the execution is wildly imprecise. It’s almost comical, the way she fumbles, and with each slip or overreach.
“Good. Feel warmed up?” I ask when we’ve made it through the full warm-up routine.
Her eyes meet mine and despite the crimson in her cheeks, she nods. “The metaphorical fire is stoked and ready.”
I chuckle, gesturing to a large, inflated balance ball. “Good. That’s what we want. I’ll focus today on core and upper body, with a little bit of cardio thrown in for good measure. Sound good?”
“Whatever you say, boss,” she says, standing up and brushing off her backside.
The gleaming blue balance ball sits in the corner of the room like a challenge made manifest. Perhaps it’s pushing my luck a bit, considering her initial awkwardness, but we gotta start somewhere. Right?
Carlie approaches the ball as if it’s a wild animal that might spook.
“This is pretty basic, so don’t let it freak you out. Here’s what I want you to do … Just sit down gently, like this, feet flat on the floor. Then, we’ll have you do a few crunches and back extensions.” I model the position I want her to get into and stand back up. “I’ll walk you through everything. You’ve got this.”
“Okay.” She nods, then exhales loudly. Her hands lightly skimming the rubbery surface before she turns around and commits her full weight to it.