Hearts Like Ours | Red View Romance #1

🍎 Seven

Dawson showed up while Kenzie and Marshall were in the middle of plie squats. Layla was adjusting his sisters form and Marsh was watching with a tilted head, maneuvering himself to match the corrections.

Layla didn't look at Dawson as she said, "There's an extra mat by the door."

He grabbed it and placed it next to Marshall, wondering if Layla would spare him even a single glance over the next hour.

Dawson studied the couple's positions for a second, then spread his legs and angled his feet outwards before stooping down into a squat. It was one of many, and only the beginning. There were a plethora of other moves with names he'd never heard of—curtsy lunges (he refrained from pointing out the womanliness of the name), leg lifts, circles, and froggers. But he didn't get tripped up until they moved onto abs and she showed them how to do a single-leg teaser.

He thought he was doing it right—arms up, one leg bent with a foot on the ground, the other straight and lifted as he raised himself to work his core. Then Layla walked over and he knew he was screwing up somehow, because she hadn't given him any more attention than a few short glares since he started.

"Knees together," she ordered. He obliged, but let his extended leg falter, and she reached for it.

Her skin met his, and the warmth of it spread over his body, seemed to take over every other one of his senses. She tugged it straight, and he saw the flicker of panic in her eyes before she collected herself—she hadn't meant to do that so roughly.

He'd seen her gentle touch with Kenzie and Marshall, and it wasn't the same one she'd just used on him. If her frustration wasn't already clear from the contempt in her eyes every time she glared at him, or the clipped way she spoke to him, this would've been a dead giveaway. But still her hands felt like fire on him, and the pleasure of her touch couldn't be snuffed out, not even when she was yanking at his limbs.

"Now." Was the only affirmation she gave as she let go, turning her back on him as soon as she was done helping. Helping, he thought with amusement. As if she cared that his form was correct for any reason other than wanting it to hurt more. And he couldn't pretend it didn't hurt—the burn in his abdomen wasn't nearly as pleasant as the one from her hands.

After forty minutes were up she guided them through a five minute cool-down, then a few final stretches just before the music ended. "If you guys put in work like that every day for the rest of the program and keep it up until your wedding, you'll feel a lot different walking down that aisle. Good job."

"Whew!" Kenzie let herself fall back onto the mat. Strands of hair stuck to her forehead, which was flushed from exertion. "I feel different already."

"Talk about feeling, I can't feel my legs," Marshall joked, standing up in spite of the claim. He offered a hand to his fiancée, who let him help pull her up. "I think it's time to hit the showers."

Kenzie rubbed a hand over her stomach. "I think it's time to hit breakfast."

"You've earned it," Layla praised again.

"Thanks, Layla. I mean really, thanks. This is gonna be great! I'd hug you if I wasn't so gross right now."

Marshall laughed, pulling Kenzie into an embrace. "It's impossible for you to be gross. But you are sweaty as hell."

With a playful shove and a grin that wouldn't quit, she pulled him towards the open doors of the shed. "And you smell like you haven't bathed in a week."

Layla picked up her water bottle from the floor and walked over to her speaker. When Dawson came to her side she jumped in surprise, nearly dropping it. She must have expected him to leave with the couple.