"Your form’s off," he said, stepping closer as she adjusted her grip on the kettlebell. She glanced up, catching his gaze. His dark hair was damp at the edges, and his sleeveless shirt clung to his chest. "You’re going to hurt your back if you keep arching like that."

Emma wiped the sweat from her forehead, her high ponytail swaying as she straightened. She’d been coming to this class for months, but it was the first time Jake, the instructor, had singled her out. He was lean but muscular, his arms defined from years of lifting. She noticed the faint stubble on his jaw as he leaned in to correct her stance.

"Like this?" she asked, shifting her weight. He nodded, his hand brushing her lower back briefly to guide her. The touch sent a flicker of warmth through her, but she pushed it aside. "Better," he said, his voice low. "But don’t overthink it. Just breathe." She nodded, her pulse quickening as he lingered a moment longer before moving to the next student.