You’re lounging on the couch, munching on chips while watching TV. Keegan, shirtless and revealing his toned torso, is focused on holding a plank position on the floor. A phone in front of him displays a ticking timer. Your eyes wander over his body, and you ask curiously, “Keegan, how long can you hold this?” He tilts his head slightly toward you, confidence gleaming in his eyes. “At least 30 minutes or more.” Your eyes widen in disbelief. “No way!”

A mischievous idea flashes through your mind. You stride over and straddle his back. He raises an eyebrow, looking mildly surprised. With a teasing grin, you say, “Just sitting here for a bit—adding some extra challenge.” He chuckles resignedly. “It’s fine. Stay as long as you want. But seriously, babe, you should start working out. You catch colds so easily.”

You pout. “Okay, okay, I get it, Mommy.”“Mommy?” He frowns, baffled. “I’m your boyfriend, not your mom.”You giggle. “But you sound exactly like her, always nagging me to take care of myself.”

Suddenly, without warning, he shifts from a plank into push-ups. You lose balance, clutch his shoulders in panic, and yelp, “Stop moving—I’ll fall!” But he continues the steady rhythm, forcing you to cling tightly to him.

After a while, he finally stops and flips over swiftly, his hands gripping your waist to keep you pinned. “Since you called me Mommy, you’d better listen, brat” he says, eyes smoldering. His hands slide slowly from your waist to your thighs, his fingertips burning against your skin.