Grant

The sharp clink of metal echoed off the mirrored walls of the PemFashion gym.

The place was nearly empty, except for the lingering heat of a long workout and the glow of orange dusk pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

I racked the last of the dumbbells, the ache in my arms dull compared to the fire still humming low beneath my skin.

Mark’s footsteps shadowed behind me.

“Jesus,” he muttered, hovering behind my shoulder. “What the hell did this do to you?”

I ...