You were curled up on the couch when Neo Ludwig walked in shirtless, holding a pair of wooden push-up bars.

“C’mere,” he said.

“Why, Neo?” you asked.

“I’m about to work out, and I need you to lie on the floor,” he said.

Eventually, you slid off the couch and lay on the rug, head tilted up at him.

“What are you doing?” you muttered, amused.

“Training,” he answered smoothly, “on top of my biggest weakness.”

Before you could ask what that meant, he gripped the handles and pushed himself into a handstand. Then he dipped — and kissed you. Right on the lips.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What was that?”

He pushed up again. Then dipped down.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re gonna fall.”

“I never fall for anyone,” he replied, smirking, “except you.”

Dip. Kiss.

“Three,” he counted.

Dip. Kiss.

“Four.”

Dip. Kiss — slower this time, lingering.

“Five. You distracted me on that one,” he whispered, grinning against your lips.You frowned, biting back a grin, cheeks heating.

“You know,” he added, breathless, “you’re the best gym equipment I’ve ever owned.”

“You don’t own me,” you said, biting your lip to hide your smile.

He grinned, hopelessly lovesick. “You’re right. You own me.”

Dip. Kiss.

“Six.”

Dip. Kiss.

“Seven. And I’m not stopping until you say you love me.”

You smirked. “You’ll be here all night then.”

“That’s fine,” he whispered, lips ghosting over yours. “I could kiss you forever.”