Page 52 of Heartfelt Goals

“Oh gosh,” Laurel interrupted bluntly. “Can we get out of here or talk tonight? I swear a bead of sweat just blinded my right eye, and I might yack on the floor.”

Dustin laughed easily, turning with her and guiding them out of the studio.

“I’m glad it wasn’t just me. I was feeling pretty awful, too,” he smiled and looked at her as they stepped out of the superheated room.

His smile faded, and his face grew pale – almost as quickly as the wave of nausea hit her seconds following the change in temperature.

“Oh gosh…”

“Not good,” she choked, looking for a trash can or anything to vomit in.

“Breathe,” the instructor said quickly, handing them one trash can to share and smiling knowingly. “Breathe through the changes and feel yourselves regulate. The first visit is always the worst, and you learn it’s okay to slow down.”

“I’m feeling better,” he nodded hoarsely, hugging the can between the two of them as he looked at Laurel.

“Me too.”

“Now, since you two weren’t paying attention in class and making eyes at each other,” the instructor chastised gently, smiling at them. “It’s normal to feel a little nauseous, a little sore, or to feel your joints stiffen up some. The heat allows you to stretch beyond what your body normally allows. Take some ibuprofen, drink plenty of water, and we’ll see you next week.”

Dustin looked at her – waiting.

“We’ll be back next week,” Laurel said softly to the unspoken question from him. “I liked the class.”

“Great,” the instructor smiled. “Now, I’ll take my trash can back from you both – and you can go home and make eyes at each other alone.”

Laurel’s muscles ached in the best way, loose and relaxed, but none of it compared to the warmth that spread through her chest when Dustin caught her eye. They shared a lingering look, something shy and unspoken passing between them before their fingers brushed and linked together naturally.

The connection sent a spark up her spine, not from the remnants of the workout, but from the way he looked at her—like she was something worth admiring. It was ridiculous. Sheknew she had to look an absolute mess. Her hair was plastered to her forehead, her tank top clung damply to her skin, and she could feel the telltale ring of sweat darkening the front of her shirt. She had never felt less attractive in her life, and yet, in Dustin’s gaze, she felt radiant. Desired.

By the time they picked up Kendall a few minutes later, Laurel had almost convinced herself that she didn’t look as bad as she felt. That illusion shattered the moment Kendall took one look at them and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Oh my gosh!” Kendall shrieked between fits of giggles. “Are you guys okay? Because you look like you just survived a flood – if that flood was boiling hot lava.”

Laurel groaned, pressing her fingers against her temple. “I know. I know. I smell like a gym sock, don’t I?”

“Worse,” Kendall declared. “Like two wet dogs who wrestled in a sauna and lost.”

Dustin only laughed, completely unbothered, while Laurel shot him an incredulous look. Of course, he could look good drenched in sweat. His shirt clung to his chest in a way that made her want to trace every inch of him, and the damp sheen along his jawline made his already chiseled features even more defined. It wasn’t fair.

Their less-than-appealing state made dining in somewhere an absolute no-go, so they settled for drive-thru instead, which suited Laurel just fine. It meant they had privacy. No watchful eyes, no curious glances—just them.

When they finally made it back to the building, food in hand, Kendall wrinkled her nose dramatically, taking an exaggerated step away from them. “Y’all really reek. Like, this is offensive to my sinuses. Can we take separate elevators for my lungs’ sake?”

Dustin smirked, his gaze flicking to Laurel before he answered easily, “Go ahead first. We’ll take the next one.”

Laurel barely heard the words. She was too lost in the way he was looking at her. Heat curled in her stomach, completely separate from the aftermath of yoga, and a flush crawled up her neck.

“Go straight to the condo,” she whispered, her voice barely more than breath.

Kendall groaned loudly. “Y’all are pathetic. Seriously pathetic.” Then, as if that weren’t enough, she huffed dramatically. “And I cannot believe my toilet mug won’t be ready for two days.”

“Darn,” Dustin replied absently.

But Kendall was already stepping into the elevator, swiping the takeout from Dustin’s hands with a knowing smirk. She wiggled her fingers in a lazy wave as the doors slid shut, leaving them alone in the dim hallway.

The silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken. Laurel inhaled, immediately regretting it when she caught the scent of her own sweat. She cringed. “I think she’s right—I do smell.” Self-conscious, she ran a hand through her tangled, damp hair. “My hair is a mess and?—”

“I don’t care,” Dustin murmured, cutting her off.Then, before she could process it, he pulled her into his arms, his grip firm and unyielding, and kissed her.

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