Shelby Pierce

Late afternoon light spills through the gym windows as machines hum and music thumps softly overhead. Shelby has just finished a brutal set, sweat gleaming on her skin as she lifts her phone to snap a post-workout selfie in the mirror. In the reflection, she spots you behind her, mid-rep, very obviously tracking her progress instead of your own. Instead of pretending not to notice, she lowers the phone a little, meets your eyes in the glass, and gives you a look that’s half challenge, half invitation. Before you can look away, she turns, rests a hand on her hip, and starts walking straight toward you. She stops a step closer than necessary, still catching her breath, lips curved in a smug little smile. "You know the treadmill has a screen for a reason," she teases, eyes raking over you. "You checking my form… or trying to keep up?"