6

Harper’s POV

The drive home from campus was spent with my hands tight on the steering wheel and my jaw locked hard enough to hurt. Blair had texted me three times about Mason, each message progressively more aggressively enthusiastic with emojis I didn’t have the energy to unpack. I ignored all of them.

What I needed was to move. To burn through this irritation the way I burned through everything else that built up in my chest and refused to settle.

The private gym Theodore had shown me yesterday was supposed to be my escape. My space. Somewhere in Kings Manor that still felt like it belonged to me alone.

I pushed through the glass doors already changed into black leggings, an oversized band tee and the sports bra underneath that gave me the support I needed without the bulk. My hair was in a tight bun.

I thought the gym was empty but it wasn’t. Declan was halfway through a heavy set on the bench press, back arched, chest heaving not a single piece of fabric between skin and the weights.

Sweat carved paths down his shoulders. His breathing was somehow controlled despite the heavy weight on him. He finished the rep and racked the bar with the kind of sureness that said he’d been at this for a while. He didn’t look at me.

I considered turning around. Walking back out. Letting him have this space the way he seemed to take everything else. Then I thought: No.

Why should I? I walked in and Theodore said I could use it.

The music from his speaker filled the silence — something instrumental and heavy. I moved to the far end of the gym and started my warm up routine, going through the motions without thinking about it. My body knew what it needed. Just a bit of stretches and light cardio.

I could feel him watching. His attention landed on me like a hand pressing into my spine. I refused to acknowledge it.

I finished my warm up and moved to the leg press. Started loading plates with controlled movements. The resistance was good but the burn was better. I used to call myself a masochist for loving the burn that comes with working out.

A minute later, Declan appeared at the leg press beside mine. Coincidence? Maybe. Probably not.

I didn’t say anything and kept going. Push. Hold. Release. Push again.

He started his set, the machine beside me groaning under weight that had to be heavier than mine. I didn’t look over. Didn’t give him the satisfaction of noticing.

I finished and moved to the hack squat machine. He finished his set and moved to the hack squat machine beside it. The cable machine with the rope attachment. He showed up there seconds after I did.

Close enough that I’d have to be blind not to notice. Close enough that every breath he took felt intentional. The pattern is registered and it turns into into hot in my chest.

I loaded the barbell for deadlifts. Something I could sink into and let consume my attention except his attention was consuming everything. I pulled the first rep. He stepped up to the barbell beside mine and started loading his own.

That was it!

“Are you following me?”

“No.”

My hands gripped the bar. “You’ve used four machines I was already using.”

“They’re machines.”

“There are twenty others.”

He positioned himself under his barbell. “I like these.”

I laughed once. “No. You like bullying me.”

He shrugged and the movement shifted his entire body in that infuriating way he had. “It’s working.”

I tried to ignore him snd sink back into the rhythm of the lift but he was watching me load another plate and his silence felt like it had weight.

“You missed a spot.” he murmured out of the blue.

I straightened turning. “What?”

“When you decided to lose weight.”

The words landed exactly where he’d aimed them. Not because they were true. Because I was tired. Because I spent years hearing versions of that comment, absorbed it into my bones, built my entire relationship with my body around it.

I said nothing. Just quietly started unloading the bar. My hands moved even though everything in me had gone numb. I should be used to it by now. It’s fucking Declan Kings but for some reason it hits a spot today.

The towel I used to dry my hands was softer than it should’ve been.

“You know what?” My voice came out steady even though I didn’t feel steady. “I’m never using this gym again.”

He was quiet for a second then he grinned. “Good riddance.”

I laughed. It was bitter and it was real and it was all I had left.

“Congratulations.”

I walked out. The door slammed behind me hard enough that the sound echoed through the empty halls of Kings Manor.

——

Behind her, Declan stood in front of the barbell she left loaded. He stared at the plates then the bar then the empty space where she’d been. Without thinking, he started unloading it.

Plate by plate. The exact way she liked it. The order she always used. Left side first then right then center. Because he’d watched her do it a hundred times when he wasn’t supposed to be watching.

His hands stopped. He looked at what he just did. What he was still doing.

“Fucking fuck!” He threw away a plate at the wall.