Page 44 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

I quickly turned around so he could change, focusing on rearranging the cupboard. When he mumbled that he was done, I turned around and accidentally gasped.

But holy shit. He’d shed the hoodie and stood there in a bright white T-shirt that made him glow under the ballroom’s chandeliers. The pink joggers hugged his legs, outlining muscles I’d never seen beneath his usual baggy clothes. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and he tugged nervously at his shirt.

If only he was wearing his glasses right now…

My wolf stirred, conjuring the image whilst practically salivating.

A shiver rippled through him, and I cleared my throat.

“Right. We’d better warm you up.”

Felix’s eyebrows shot upward.

“I mean, you need to warm up. Before training. Warm up.” I almost groaned. I was making it worse. “It’s important to stretch your muscles properly.”

Felix nodded, looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“Let’s start with some basic moves. Give me ten reps of jumping jacks.”

Felix stared at me blankly.

“Jumping… jacks?”

Surely he knew what those were, at least? I demonstrated, jumping my feet apart whilst raising my arms overhead, then back together. Felix watched with hilarious amounts of concentration.

“Like this,” I said, doing a few more. “Ten reps means ten times, yeah?”

Felix attempted to copy me. His movements were stilted and uncoordinated, like someone had programmed him to move but forgotten to install the athletics package. His arms flailed, slightly out of sync with his legs.

“Good,” I lied. “Now let’s try some lunges.”

Again, blank stare.

I demonstrated, stepping one foot forward and lowering my body until both knees were bent at ninety degrees. Felix’s attempt looked more like he was curtseying to the Queen.

“I take it you didn’t enjoy PE at school?” I chuckled.

Felix’s face darkened. “That’s putting it mildly.”

He stopped his awkward lunging and ran a hand through his hair.

“What happened?”

“Well, I was basically the poster child for everything wrong with the British education system’s approach to sports.”

“Meaning?”

“Too small, too uncoordinated, terrible at anything involving balls being thrown at my head.” He gestured vaguely at himself. “The teachers treated me like I was broken. Other kids treated me like I was infectious. To be honest, I ended up spending most PE lessons hiding in the changing rooms or pretending to have asthma attacks. Which probably wasn’t helping my case for not being a complete weirdo.”

My hackles rose at the thought of assholes picking on a younger Felix, probably an even more anxious one.

“The only reason I survived the last year of secondary school was because my computing teacher took pity on me. She insisted I was needed as her assistant during my PE slots, helping teach the year seven cohort who were incompetent with technology.”

“So you didn’t play any sports at all?”

Felix stared at me like I’d asked if he’d ever flown to the moon.

“My school was small,” I said, steering the conversation back to me. “But I played for the football and rugby teams.”