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I didn't know what hell looked like until I walked into a gym holding hands with Akane.
Eyes followed us from the moment we stepped inside—part envy, part confusion, and definitely a touch of disbelief. I mean, it wasn't every day that Akane, the girl with a killer waistline and thighs that looked like they could break skulls, casually strolled in smiling beside a guy who had clearly never bench pressed more than his emotional trauma.
I swallowed hard.
We were already too deep for me to back out now. Besides, this had started because of my own stupid questions—something about her routine, her strength, and her arms looking unfairly good in a sports bra. I didn't think she'd actually invite me to come watch.
Well. Not watch. Join.
I must've looked like I was walking into my own execution.
