Almost worse.
“Feet shoulder-width apart,” he said, voice lower now, all teasing burned away into instruction. “Toes angled out a little. Good. Now sit back like you’re trying to close a car door with your ass.”
I turned my head slightly. “That is the least sexy sentence anyone has ever said to me.”
“Give it a minute.”
The words hit low and deliberate against the back of my neck. My breath hitched as Cade’s hands settled at my hips. Not rough. Not sudden. Slow enough that I could have stepped away. Firm enough that when his palms curved over me, my entire body reacted like he had put his hands somewhere far more dangerous.
“Relax,” he said near my ear.
“I am relaxed.”
“You’re wound tight enough to snap.”
“Maybe your coaching style is stressful.”
“My coaching style is excellent.”
“Your ego is the thing we should be working out.”
His quiet laugh brushed warm against the side of my neck, and holy fuck, that sound should not have been allowed this close to my skin. “Breathe, Bliss.”
The use of my name wrecked me more than the nickname sometimes. Pip was teasing. Pip was a game. Bliss, in Cade’smouth, sounded like he had stripped the room down to just the two of us and the truth neither of us wanted to admit.
I inhaled shakily.
His thumbs pressed lightly against the front of my hips, guiding me back. “There. Slow. Sit into it.”
I lowered, awkward at first, knees bending while his hands kept me steady. My body knew movement. I wasn’t helpless. I had five brothers and a lifetime of being dragged into whatever game they were playing. But this was different. This was not running or throwing or surviving backyard chaos. This was Cade behind me, his breath touching my neck, his body tracking every inch of mine while the mirror reflected everything I was trying not to feel.
“Good,” he murmured.
The praise slid straight through me, and I equally hated that and loved that. I almost fell over from that.
His grip tightened slightly. “Careful.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re distracted.”
“You’re breathing on my neck.”
“You noticed?”
I lifted my eyes to the mirror and found him watching me there, mouth near my ear, eyes too dark to blame on the gym lighting.
“You’re doing the vibe again,” I whispered.
His smile was slow. “I know.”
My stomach dropped so hard it felt like falling.
For one second, neither of us moved. His hands stayed on my hips. My body stayed half-lowered in the squat, thighs trembling for reasons that had very little to do with exercise. The music thudded low through the room, a steady pulse beneath the sound of our breathing.
Then Cade’s voice brushed against my neck again. “Stand up.”
My body obeyed before my pride had a chance to object.
