Chapter 85 My Hot Coach (5)

The gym was a rhythm of its own—ropes slicing through the air, sneakers thumping on the mats, and the girlies’ breaths coming in sharp, steady puffs. I gripped the skipping rope’s handles, the rubber biting into my palms, and kept my pace, my body moving like a metronome. My purple training suit clung to every curve, and with every jump, my tits bounced, the low neckline doing nothing to hide it. I could feel eyes on me—not just from the mirrors reflecting my every move, but from the other gym-goers stealing glances. Let them look. I was feeling myself, sweat beading on my collarbone, my damp hair swinging against my back. My ass looked unreal in this suit, and I knew it. Tasha was next to me, her curls bouncing as she skipped, muttering curses under her breath every time her rope snagged. “This shit’s gonna kill me,” she huffed, shooting me a side-eye. “You make it look easy, Mia. Fuck you for that.”