Page 27 of Enchanted to Meet You

“We haven’t really—“ I started, my voice wavering just enough for Kelcey’s smile to sharpen.

Before I could finish digging my own grave, a pair of large, warm hands clamped firmly around my waist from behind.

I gasped as my feet abruptly left the rubber floor. Without a single word of warning, Rhys hoisted me straight up into the air as effortlessly as if I weighed nothing at all. My instinct kicked in, my hands flying out to catch his shoulders for balance as he brought me level with his chest, his fingers digging securely into the soft fabric at my waist.

“Only when she asks nicely,” Rhys said smoothly into the top of my head, his voice deep and completely unbothered.

I looked down at him, my heart hammering against my ribs—partly from the sudden shock of being elevated, and partly because his face was suddenly inches from mine. Up close, I could see the faint dusting of sweat at his temples, the dark ring around his irises, and the subtle, smug smirk pulling at his lip.

Kelcey’s smile flickered, a tiny crease forming between her brows. “Right. Well, I just meant⁠—”

“Actually,” Rhys cut in, looking up at me with an unreadable warmth that made my breath hitch, “she’s a lot lighter than what I’ve been benching. Hold still, Ainsley.”

I gasped, realizing what he was about to do. “Rhys, don’t you dare⁠—”

Before I could finish the threat, he shifted his grip, stepping seamlessly beneath me, loading my back onto his chest and wrapping a supportive arm under my knees and shoulders like a human bench press. He dipped his knees, bracing his core, and smoothly pressed me straight up toward the ceiling, his arms extending fully while I let out a squeak that was decidedly not graceful.

“One,” Rhys counted out loud, lowering me an inch before driving up again with ease. “Two.”

“Put me down!” I hissed, though a ridiculous, traitorous laugh bubbled up in my throat anyway.

Landon snorted from the cable machine. “Look at you, Rhys. Reaching your daily PR.”

Justin didn’t even look up from his phone, but Kelcey’s eyes had gone completely flat, all the fake brightness draining out of her face as she watched Rhys laugh—a real sound that vibrated right through his chest and straight into mine—as he brought me safely back down to earth.

My feet hit the floor, but he didn’t immediately let go of my waist. He kept his hands there for a second longer than necessary, steadying me while my head spun from a mix of altitude and adrenaline. For a second, looking up at his flushed face and the curls damp against his forehead, he didn’t look like my brother’s arrogant rival or the boy forcing me into a fake relationship.

He just looked... ridiculously, infuriatingly cute.

I hated it.

I immediately shoved the thought into a dark corner of my mind and slapped his arm away. “You are an idiot,” I grumbled, smoothing down my oversized T-shirt with hands that weren’t as steady as I wished.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, his grin too satisfied as he turned back to the weight rack.

Kelcey’s smile finally cracked into something colder and more honest, and for one unguarded second I saw exactly how much this was costing her to sit through. Then she turned and dropped onto the bench beside Justin, looping an arm through his and leaning into him with a little too much intention, like she wanted to make absolutely sure everyone in the room saw who she belonged to.

I was shocked to find that as I watched her cozy up to my crush, her boyfriend, I actually didn’t feel much at all. No jealousy, no twitch of the eye, no cracking heart. Interesting. But while I was surprisingly fine, I could tell by the stiffness in Rhys’s posture beside me that he was not. He watched her go with something tight around his eyes that didn’t match the rest of his face, and it took him a second longer than it should have to shake it off.

“You okay?” I asked, and immediately wished I hadn’t, because it wasn’t my job to check in on his feelings about his ex, and it came out sounding far more genuine than the amount of hatred I was supposedly maintaining toward him at all times.

“Fine,” he said, too fast, reaching for the next set of weights like the conversation was already over. “Round two. Try not to hurt yourself.”

“I didn’t hurt myself the first time.”

“You dropped the dumbbell on your own foot.”

“That was on purpose.”

“Sure it was.” But some of the tightness had eased out of his shoulders, and when his hand found the small of my back again to guide me toward the next station, I let it stay there a full three seconds longer than the walk required before I stepped away, and neither of us said anything about it.

By the time we made it back to the car, I was sweating in a way that had nothing to do with the dumbbells, my whole body still humming from an hour of being touched, guided, corrected, and steadied by a boy I still hated on principle, in front of an audience I was equally sure I never wanted to see again. Rhys didn’t say anything as we pulled out of the lot, and for once, neither did I, both of us quiet in a way that felt different from our usual silences—less like a truce and more like something neither of us wanted to be the first to break.

“She’s not usually like that,” he said eventually, eyes on the road, jaw tight. “Kelcey.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“She’s worse when she’s trying to prove something.” He said it carefully, like he was choosing each word off a shelf and checking it twice before setting it down, and I got the distinct sense he wasn’t just talking about tonight.