I tap the ‘Live’ button on Instagram and my heart nearly gallops straight out of my chest.
The need to set the record straight—to lay out my truth for Carlie, and whoever else is watching—feels vital.
It’s my lifeline to a future I want to have a chance at.
“Hey, everyone,” I begin, forcing my voice to remain steady, despite feeling anything but. “There’s been a lot of talk about me lately. Rumors about using someone special to kickstart my fitness business. But I’m here to lay out the truth.”
A car honks loudly behind me, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I shake it off, trying to ignore the city noises, focusing on what needs to be said.
“Those who know me, know I value honesty and integrity—both in my personal life and at the gym. This situation blowing up on my feed—the bullshit being said—it’s all been twisted into something it’s not.”
Taking a deep breath, I address the heart of the matter. “To those spreading and believing these rumors, shame on you. The woman you’ve seen with me is working hard on herself—for herself—just like I am with my potential business when, or if, I launch it. And right now, I have a non-compete clause I’m respecting from my previous employer. So, there is no Foxx Fitness. Not yet. Carlie and I—we’re partners in this and rooting each other on. To the rest of you, we should be supporting each other, not tearing each other down at the first sight of blood.”
I let the words sink in, hoping they resonate with my audience. Then, I focus on the most crucial part of my message. “Carlie, if you’re watching, I need you to know that you mean more to me than a business strategy. Our time together has been incredible. Hell, it’s more than that. You’ve become so important to me ... more than I ever expected.”
My heart hammers in my chest as I continue. “I’m sorry for this drama—for the chaos. But please know, everything being said is nonsense. Because the truth is …” I swallow hard, realizing I had no intention of saying this on Instagram of all places, but it needs to be said anyway. “I’m falling for you. Hard.”
When the words escape my lips, I release the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding so hard onto. “We need to talk—and I hope we can do that now. I’m outside your door, praying you’ll let me in.”
The comments are going nuts as I end the live session, but I can’t bring myself to care or even read a single one. Instead, I lower my phone, and my entire soul feels exposed.
I’ve laid it all out there for Carlie, and now, it’s time for the moment of truth.
I approach her door with my heart lodged in my throat and press the doorbell.
After a few excruciating moments, the door swings open, and there she stands, her expression a complex mix of surprise and guarded emotion as she says, “Adam, that was—”
Before she can finish, the door on the left swings open, and out hobbles Carlie’s grandma. “Well, well, look who’s back. We must be making quite the impression on you.”
Despite wanting desperately to get Carlie alone, I chuckle. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“You here to see Carlie, I assume? Or did you just miss my delightful company? Because my door is this one on the left.” She winks at me.
Carlie shoots her grandma a brief, exasperated look before turning back to me, her eyes searching mine. “We need to talk.”
I nod in agreement. “Yes, we do. I’m here to explain everything.”
Carlie hesitates for a moment, then steps aside, motioning for me to enter.
As I walk past her, I catch a glimpse of her grandmother giving me an enthusiastic two thumbs up—a silent gesture of support that somehow eases a bit of the tension in my chest.
We walk upstairs and when I’m standing in Carlie’s apartment, the tension is palpable.
So many emotions play across Carlie’s face as she turns to look at me. I can tell my Instagram Live hit a nerve, but I’m not sure if it’s good or bad.
“Watching you …” Carlie starts, her voice trailing off. She takes a deep breath, as if gathering her thoughts. “It was ... a lot. Seeing you put everything out there, it’s just—” A humorless laugh escapes her lips. “Leave it to Instagram to turn our love story into a reality TV show.”
“Look, I know it’s weird. I didn’t know how else to get things across,” I admit, crossing the space between us so I can hold her hands in mine.
“What I don’t understand is … if you’re ...” She shakes her head, her green eyes full of pain, unlike anything I’ve seen before. “Why did you go to Jillian’s?”
I blink back in surprise. “How’d—?”
“She posted it,” Carlie responds matter-of-factly.
Of course, she fucking did.
I shake my head. “The rumors—all of this bullshit—it’s because of Jillian. She started it all. I went there to put her on notice.”
“That’s not how she put it,” Carlie says, her voice barely above a whisper as drops my hands and hugs herself tightly.
“I’ll bet.” I huff a humorless laugh.
What a fucking bitch.
Carlie’s eyes are glossy when her gaze connects with mine again. “You two were a thing?”
I take a breath, feeling a chilly shift in the air. I never told her that I dated Jillian and maybe I should have done it before now.
“Yeah, we were. A long time ago,” I admit, my gaze dropping to the floor. “But it ended badly. She cheated and I— Look, I never wanted any of that to spill over into ... this. Into us.”
Carlie’s eyes search mine, looking for something I can’t quite decipher. “I didn’t even know about all the Instagram drama until Lily called me an hour ago. It was like being hit by a truck I didn’t see coming. Then, again when I realized—”
I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the strands. “Wait, you didn’t know about the Instagram situation? Then why did you leave without saying goodbye? I woke up and you were just … gone.”
“Adam, I ...” Carlie hesitates, her voice wavering as she takes a step back. It’s clear she’s wrestling with something deep, something she’s not sure she can share.
I reach out, my hand hovering in the space between us. “Carlie, whatever it is, you can tell me. After all of this bullshit, it’s the least I can do.”
She bites her lip, a storm of emotions crossing her face. Finally, she looks up at me, her expression reflecting a mixture of fear and resolve. “It’s just … I got scared.”
“Scared of what?” I prod gently, trying to bridge the distance between us. Hating how far apart we are right now.
With a half-hearted chuckle, she shrugs slightly. “I mean, facing my fears is not exactly my strong suit. I usually just write characters who are braver than me.”
Her attempt at humor doesn’t fully mask the genuine concern in her eyes, but it’s so Carlie—using wit to deflect her vulnerability.
I shake my head. “Carlie, I swear to you, it’s not like that. Everything I said on the Live, everything I feel for you—it’s real.”
Reaching out, I run my knuckles across her cheekbone.
Her eyes close and she nods slowly, but I can tell there’s still something she’s holding back.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” I ask, searching her face for a clue.
Carlie takes a deep breath, looking as if she’s about to to be sick. But just as she’s about to speak, her gaze drifts to the coffee table—to the envelope identical to the one I received from Nocté.
My heart skips a beat.
“That envelope ...” I start, my voice trailing off. A realization hits me like a freight train—a connection I hadn’t allowed myself to really think about or believe. “Carlie, were you ... at Nocté?”
The question hangs in the air, heavy with implications.
If it was her …
For a moment, neither of us speaks. Then, she nods slowly, her eyes not leaving mine.
“Yes, Adam, I was at Nocté. With you.”
A torrent of emotions washes over me—surprise, confusion, but most of all, an overwhelming sense of connection. The pieces of a puzzle I didn’t even know I was solving fall into place.
This is why I was expelled from the Upper Tier.
She is the woman.
But how?
“Carlie, that night ... But you were so different …”
Her expression shifts—a combination of vulnerability and relief washing over her face. “I was there, incognito, I guess. I needed to ... I don’t know, escape for a while. Be someone else for the night. It was all role-play.”
I take a step back, my mind racing to align this new information with everything I thought I knew.
Hell, I’d even wondered—looking for that birthmark on her clavicle.
Only, by the time I actually had the chance to see it, I’d completely let go of that fantasy.
A faint smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “That night was just supposed to be a night of freedom. Something to get me away from all the complications of my real life. Being cheated on—it isn’t fun.”
“It’s not,” I agree, reaching out, and gently cupping her face in my hands. “Carlie, don’t you see? That night, that connection, it was real. It wasn’t just some random encounter. It was us, being drawn to each other, even when we didn’t realize it. Those stupid, past experiences—they brought us together.”
Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears as she leans into my touch.
“I know,” she whispers. “I should have told you when I realized. But it scared me, Adam. The intensity of it all. I was afraid of what it meant. What you’d think of me.”
I brush a tear from her cheek with my thumb. “It means that we’re meant to be, Carlie. That no matter how we try to fight it or deny it, we’re drawn to each other. Our paths are intertwined.”
Carlie’s eyes sparkle with a mix of tears and mirth as she lets out a soft, incredulous laugh. “You’re making it sound like fate,” she says, her voice carrying a playful undertone.
“Isn’t it?” I ask, my heart in my voice. “One night together at Nocté, only for us to find each other again on our own … It’s more than just coincidence.”
She raises an eyebrow, a hint of her usual playful humor returning. “So, are we living in a rom-com novel now? I should start taking notes for my next book. Maybe I’ll be able to get past my writer’s block.”
There’s that humor of hers again.
The realization that Carlie and I have been connected in more ways than I knew hits me with the force of a tidal wave. Everything we’ve done—the ways we’ve been intimate.
“God, everything makes so much more sense now,” I say, unable to hide the awe in my voice. “But I still don’t understand. If you knew, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I haven’t known long. But I didn’t know what to do,” she admits. “I was afraid of how you’d react—of what it would mean for ... whatever this is between us. I mean, you said it yourself, I’m not the woman you spent the night with at Nocté. I was afraid you’d want her—not me.”
“No, that’s where you’re wrong.” I step closer, closing the gap between us, and gently lifting her chin so she’s looking at me. “Carlie, that woman you were that night is still a part of who you are. She’s at the core of you—the woman you want to be. You just embraced her.”
A small smile floats to her hips. “You think?”
“I know,” I say, brushing her chin with my thumb. “Last night … You blew my mind. Hell, I should have known, come to think of it.”
“Why?” she asks breathlessly.
“Because there was only one other woman that made me feel the way you did last night. But as it turns out, it was the same woman,” I huff a laugh. “Knowing this ... it doesn’t change how I feel about you. If anything, it makes me feel closer to you.”
A tear escapes her eye, and I brush it away with my thumb.
“We’ve both been hiding parts of ourselves, but it’s time to stop. Let’s be open with each other—no more secrets,” I whisper.
Carlie nods, a small smile breaking through her tears. “No more secrets.”