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“Exactly.”

Roman gives me a look.

“I do Pilates.”

“You've mentioned that.”

“I have excellent core strength.”

“Congratulations.”

“And flexibility.”

His gaze snaps to mine.

I smile sweetly. “Wanna find out?”

“Chaos.” He blows out a breath. “Do another set.”

I stare at him. “You’re in denial.”

He raises his brows. “Denial?”

“Uh-huh. Pretending you didn't just picture my flexibility.”

“I didn't.”

“Liar.”

“Keep moving.”

I laugh.

Roman points toward a rack of dumbbells.“Five pounds.”

“I can lift more than five pounds.”

“You almost dropped one on my head.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

“You startled me.”

“I was checking your form. That doesn’t mean you should try to jump on my lap.”

“You're making that sound much less enjoyable than it should've been.”

The guy from earlier—the one Roman threatened for looking at me—makes a choking sound behind us.

Roman turns his head.

The guy immediately becomes deeply absorbed in his phone.

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Stop terrorizing people.”

“I didn't say anything.”