She laughs nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in that self-conscious way she has.
"I want to, but maybe that's too much content in one day? I don't want my followers to think I'm spamming them constantly with posts. Maybe I should take a break day and not post anything?"
"It doesn't need to be live," I point out practically. "Just record some short video clips throughout the session. Filmyourself doing the workout moves, capture the view through the windows, maybe some behind-the-scenes footage of the setup. Then you can edit it all together later at your own pace and post it whenever you want. Doesn't have to be real-time."
She thinks about that suggestion seriously, then admits shyly with genuine vulnerability,
"I... don't really know how to edit videos yet. Like, at all. I've just been posting everything completely raw without any editing or transitions or anything fancy. I don't even know where to start learning."
I nod, already forming a concrete plan in my head.
I walk further into her room—crossing that invisible boundary from hallway to her personal space—and take the phone gently from her hands.
Then I can't help myself.
The impulse is too strong to resist. I open the camera app with practiced ease and take a photo of her sitting there on the bed.
She blushes immediately, the color flooding her cheeks.
"What are you doing?! Why are you taking pictures?!"
"Couldn't help it," I say with complete honesty. "You look cute sitting on the bed like that. All cozy and comfortable in your new sweater. I need this photo for blackmail material to send to the boys later."
Her blush deepens to crimson, spreading down her neck.
I lean down slowly, bringing us to eye level. My hand reaches out almost of its own volition—like my body is moving on instinct rather than conscious thought—and I very softly, carefully track my thumb along her bottom lip. Soft and warm and slightly parted in surprise.
"If you want to do Pilates in the morning," I whisper, keeping my voice low and intimate, "wake me up whenever you're ready. I'll go with you to the deck or the indoor space and we canfilm clips together. I'll teach you basic editing techniques after. Deal?"
Her breath hitches audibly.
Her vanilla-caramel-citrus scent spikes dramatically with something sweet and heady that makes every single one of my Alpha instincts roar to life with primitive need.
I lean in even further and press my lips to hers—deliberately.
The kiss is far more tender than anything I'm naturally inclined toward or experienced with. I'm not a tender person by nature or upbringing. I'm rough edges and hard angles and controlled violence. Military precision and calculated force.
But with her, I desperately want to be gentle.
Want to treat her like something precious and fragile instead of something to conquer or claim through dominance.
I try not to deepen the kiss even though literally every instinct in my body is screaming at me to do exactly that. To claim her mouth properly, to taste her thoroughly, to make her whimper. Because if I deepen it even slightly, I'm not leaving this room.
And she needs proper sleep.
We both do.
Tomorrow will be another long day.
She's red all the way to the tips of her ears when I finally pull back reluctantly.
"Pack up your things and get some sleep," I tell her, my voice coming out rougher and more gravelly than I intended. "We've got an active day tomorrow. Lots of content to film, places to explore. Hopefully we're not in the middle of a full-scale blizzard by morning with zero visibility and three feet of snow."
She nods mutely, still blushing beautifully, her lips slightly swollen from even that brief kiss.
"What if it's snowing heavily?" she asks quietly, concern creeping into her voice. "Will we still be able to do the workout?"
"There's an indoor patio space as well," I explain, glad to focus on practical logistics instead of how badly I want to kiss her again. "Heated, fully enclosed, floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides with views of the forest. They use it for morning yoga classes and group workouts when the weather's bad. Patricia showed me while you were in the boutique checking out those cashmere socks."
