I walked to the right side of the room and down the front row of bikes. I risked a glance in Finn’s direction. As if sensing me, he turned his head and stared back with a grimace caused by either physical or emotional distress, but I couldn’t tell which. I pretended my legs were made of sticks so they wouldn’t wobble and looked away.

“Can you guys go a little faster?” I challenged.

I stopped in front of my current favorite person. “That’s it, Lenny. You’ve got this!” I kept walking and clapped my hands. “You guys are killing it.”

I continued to provide encouragement as I completed a lap of the front row and reached the back. Finn was now in clear view. I watched his strong calves work the pedals. His face glistened with sweat from exertion, and I was reminded of how hard he’d exerted himself pleasuring me. I snapped my legs straight—sticks—so they wouldn’t give out from sheer and painful want.

“Can you add a little more resistance, New Boy?” Finn’s head snapped up at my goading. I was just as surprised. “I dare you,” I said, shooting a wicked grin before jutting my chin at his resistance dial. This isn’t so bad after all.

He smirked and gave it a full turn.

“Nice.” I took a step forward, then thought better of it and stood still. “How about going a little faster?” The source of my bravado was anonymous yet appreciated.

Finn growled, but did as told.

I chuckled. “You can do anything for ten seconds, New Boy. Work harder. Push faster.”

Finn slowly raised his head and pinned his dark eyes on me. “Work harder.” He grunted. “Push faster.”

A surge of heat infused my body. Was this a spin class or soft porn? I snapped out of it and hurried back to my bike, hoping like hell no one else felt the sexual tension in the room.

When the class finally ended and the studio emptied out, I busied myself changing my sneakers, wiping down my bike, and shutting down my laptop to avoid watching Finn’s every move and waiting for him to approach me.

“Adi.”

With my back to him, I closed my eyes for a beat and tried to calm down my heart. It was beating wildly. Then I slowly turned around. “Hi.” He looked good—perfectly sweaty.

“Great class. You’re tough.” His strained smile was so different from his easy grins in Pleasant Hollow.

“Thank you. I hope I didn’t work you too hard.” I squirmed.

He blinked. “You worked me the perfect amount of hard.”

“Thanks, Adina!”