I stumble into Dirty Books, Tasia’s unique bookstore, and the unofficial sanctuary for my kind—bookworms with a penchant for pinot and smut.
Clutching a couple of bottles of wine to my chest like a lifeline, because my legs are still screaming bloody murder, I’m fashionably late to the Dirty B’s book club—or as I like to call it, my weekly reality check with a side of sarcasm.
I make my way to our alcove, a place now likened to a haven of literary chaos. Tasia smiles broadly, sitting in a brand new dark burgundy wingback chair—one of three, by the looks of it.
Excellent, no more horrifying metallic fold-out chairs to contend with. I don’t think my ass could take it—definitely not while it already feels like it’s being shredded apart from my ill attempts at getting fit.
“Oh, look. Carlie’s here. With wine,” Anna drawls without even looking up.
How she knows that is beyond me, since her face is still plastered to her phone. She extends a hand to Vivian, who slaps money in it.
When Vivian catches my gaze, she smiles sheepishly. “Anna said you’d remember.”
“Ah.” I nod once.
Translation: she didn’t.
When I glance at Tasia and Lily, they’re both shaking their heads, but have big grins on their faces. I have to admit, their smiles are contagious, and I can’t help but grin back, even as I gingerly lower myself into one of the new wingback chairs, grateful for its plush embrace.
“Of course, I remembered the wine. After the week I’ve been having, it’s a necessity at this point,” I mutter, all the while the dietary drill sergeant in the back of my head says, ‘But is it, though?’
Curse you, drill sergeant.
Lily looks up from her tablet, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “So, what’s been going on, Carlie? Besides plotting world domination one romance novel at a time,” she adds with a wink.
“More like surviving my own personal boot camp,” I sigh, setting the wine on the table and massaging my aching thighs. “My new trainer is on a mission to reacquaint me with muscles I forgot existed.”
Tasia reaches out, opening one of the bottles and pouring wine into each glass. Her eyebrows are raised in amusement.
However, it’s Lily who cuts in again, “And how has Ada been? Is she nice?”
“Uh,” I hedge.
Looks like I forgot to fill her in that Ada is actually Adam. Whoopsie.
I take a deep sip from my glass, feeling the wine’s warmth spread through me. Truthfully, it’s a welcome contrast to the soreness that’s become my constant companion.
I bite the side of my lip and fiddle with the fabric across my thighs. “Well, about Ada ... turns out there was a tiny misunderstanding.”
Lily’s eyes widen. “What do you mean?”
Vivian’s eyes also narrow on me and I flinch slightly under their scrutiny.
“Turns out, Ada isn’t Ada after all. My trainer is Adam.” I shake my head. “As in, a very much male Adam.”
Anna’s head slowly rises and her eyes leave her phone. “Hold up. You’ve been getting trained by a guy this whole time and you didn’t know his name?”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, feeling all of their eyes on me. “In my defense, the email from the gym had a typo. It said ‘Ada.’ I just assumed they knew how to spell their trainer’s names …”
Vivian leans forward in her chair and bursts into laughter, nearly spilling her wine in the process. “So, you were mentally prepared to meet Ada, and in walks this Adam? I would’ve loved to see your face.”
My cheeks flush at the memory. “Let’s just say I was ... a bit surprised.”
“So, what’s he like?” Lily takes a sip of her wine, her eyes dancing with curiosity. “Is he the gruff, silent type, or more of a chiseled Adonis?”
I can’t help but laugh at the thought. We’ve only known each other a few months, but she already knows my adjectives so well. “He’s certainly ... fit. And maybe a little too enthusiastic about squats and lunges for my liking. He’s the reason I hobbled in here like my eighty-year-old grandma.”
Vivian’s grin is feline. “Enthusiastic about squats, huh? That paints a picture.”
Anna turns to Vivian with a sardonic eyebrow raised. “Did your mind just take a detour into the gutter?”
“When doesn’t it?” Tasia fires back, a huge smile spreading across her lips before she takes a sip from her glass.
Lily nods in agreement. “So, how have the workouts been? I assume he’s good, since you haven’t swapped him out for a female trainer.”
A soft smile floats to my lips as I think back to our yoga session. “He’s ... surprising. Challenging, but in a good way, I guess.”
Vivian bites her lip, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Does this ‘good way’ involve appreciating his sexy form while he demonstrates those squats?”
I feel my cheeks heating up. “I’m trying to focus on the exercises, not ... that.”
“But you’re not denying it,” Vivian interjects, her tone teasing. “Come on, Carlie, we’re all friends here. You can admit if he’s hot.”
I take a deep breath, the wine emboldening me. “Okay, fine. He’s definitely attractive. There, I said it. Happy?”
The group bursts into laughter and teasing remarks, but Anna remains quietly focused on her phone, her fingers moving with a purpose. After a moment, she looks up, her deadpan expression hiding a glint of something I can only assume is amusement. It’s hard to tell with her.
“So, this Adam ... is he Adam Foxx by any chance?” Anna asks looking like a cat who caught a canary.
I pause, blinking in surprise. “How did you know his last name?”
Anna holds up her phone, displaying an Instagram profile. “Because Adam Foxx, your mystery trainer from St. Mary’s, happens to be somewhat of an Instagram celebrity.”
The group leans in, peering at Anna’s phone.
There he is—Adam—in various shots showing off his perfectly toned physique, engaging in workouts, and even some behind-the-scenes glimpses of his personal life.
I practically fall out of my chair.
His follower count reads in the millions.
Vivian whistles, her eyes wide. “Holy ... Carlie, you’ve been training with an Instagram sensation?”
My mouth feels like I’ve been sucking on a desert dune. “I ... I had no idea. He never mentioned anything about this.”
Anna’s smirk widens. “Seems like you’ve got more than just a trainer. He’s a whole brand.”
Lily’s voice drops low as she says, “And here we were, thinking you were just getting regular gym sessions.”
“Bet that makes those squats and lunges a bit more interesting now, doesn’t it?” Vivian chimes in, nodding in my direction.
My cheeks feel like they’ve burst into flames as I pat them down.
The Adam in these photos seems worlds apart from the Adam who teases me about forgotten water bottles and pushes me to my limits at the gym. It’s like seeing a completely different side of him, one that’s polished, public, and ... intimidating.
Oh, god … What he must think of me.
“Wow, Carlie. Training with a celebrity and you didn’t even brag about it,” Tasia jokes, reaching across her chair to nudge my shoulder gently.
I manage a weak smile in her direction but my mind is racing. This new revelation about Adam adds a whole layer of complexity to my already confusing feelings.
“Yeah, I guess I’m just humble like that.” I force a laugh. “Or clueless. Probably clueless.”
Anna, still scrolling through Adam’s Instagram, says, “Look at this one. He’s doing yoga in front of the Lift Bridge at sunset.”
Vivian snatches the phone, her eyes widening as she takes it in. “Dang, he looks bendy.”
I lean over to look and can’t help but quip, “Oh, I can personally attest to the bendiness. We did partner yoga on Tuesday night.”
The room falls silent, every pair of eyes suddenly fixed on me again. Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut?
“I mean, it was unexpected, but …” I backpedal.
“Partner yoga?” Anna’s eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. “As in, ‘let’s balance our bodies in an intimately close proximity way’ yoga?”
Tasia sets her glass down with a clink. “Well, that certainly adds a new layer to ‘personal training’.”
Vivian’s eyes glitter with unspoken questions, her earlier teasing taking on new meaning. “So, about appreciating his form ...?”
I let out a nervous chuckle, trying to find a way to reel things in. “Okay, let’s not get carried away. It was just a regular session, you know, very ... professional.”
Not that my session with the shower afterwards reflected that …
Lily leans forward, her eyebrows raised. “Carlie, honey, I hate to break it to you, but there’s nothing ‘just regular’ about partner yoga with a hot, bendy Instagram star.”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “It wasn’t like that. It was all about ... alignment and posture,” I mumble, between my palms.
”Seems like your alignment was just fine,” Anna says, dryly.
“What does that mean?” I ask, dropping my hands.
Anna gives me a sly look and turns her phone back to me. I take it from her, confused.
There, staring back at me, is a picture of the two of us in a pose that looks more like a game of sexy Twister than professional partner yoga.
I hand Anna’s phone back to her as horror and disbelief washes over me.
“Seems like this pic is getting a lot of attention,” Anna drawls, apparently flipping through the comments.
“Well, go me. I’ve managed my viral internet debut,” I mutter under my breath, “and not even for a cat video or a steamy book scene. No, I had to go straight to yoga scandal. Just my luck.”
“Wait, Adam didn’t post that photo,” Vivian says, giving the image a thorough once-over from her own phone. “It was posted by a gym-goer. But Adam was tagged in it. Carlie, you’re right. It’s already going viral.”
The laughter and teasing at the table fade into the background as my jaw drops.
Adam had called earlier and even text a couple times asking that I call him—which I had ignored, thinking he was just following up on my second missed session in a row.
I’d promised him I’d be back today, but when I couldn’t even wash my hair without wincing, I figured one more day to let my muscles chill wouldn’t hurt.
“I …” Guilt rolls through me. “Shit, Adam wanted me to get in touch with him today. I thought he was just calling about me skipping our session today. Do you think he was trying to warn me about this?”
Lily’s smile goes crooked, and her concern is evident. “Carlie, you should talk to him. Just in case.”
Tasia nods in agreement. “Yeah, especially if that photo was posted without your consent. That’s not okay.”
I bite my lip, scrolling through my phone to find Adam’s missed call and unread messages. There’s a text from him, sent just an hour ago.
My heart pounds in my chest. The playful atmosphere of the book club now feels a world away. “Yeah, I think you’re right. I need to sort this out. I had no idea this photo was taken, let alone shared through the interwebs.”
Tasia reaches over, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’re here for you, Carlie. If you need anything, just say the word.”
Standing up, I nod, grateful for their support. However, the image from Anna’s phone haunts me as I gather my things to leave. The once carefree evening has turned into a storm of anxiety and uncertainty.
We never even got to talk about dirty books.
Everyone says their goodbyes as I leave the group and head home earlier than anticipated.
As I step out into the cool night air, my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. The picture, the exposure, the implications—it’s all too much.
I need to talk to Adam and find out how this happened. Glancing at my watch, I realize it’s too late to reach out now. I’ll have to talk to him before my session. It’ll give me some time to think of the right words to say.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. This wasn’t just a simple case of a leaked gym photo. It was about privacy, trust, and if I’m honest, the unexpected direction my relationship with Adam was taking.
What if something like this could get him fired?
We weren’t even doing anything wrong, but it suddenly feels like it. The photo, taken out of context, could easily be misconstrued.
“Great, from zero to scandalous in one yoga pose,” I grumble, my knack for landing in awkward situations reaching new heights.
I start walking home, each step heavy with apprehension and the knowledge that the conversation with Adam will be inevitable—and crucial.
The last thing I wanted was to create drama at the gym, and yet here I am, potentially stirring up a storm totally unintentionally.