I give him a slow clap as we head back to the car.
"Truly inspiring work in there. Especially the part where you nearly dropped a dumbbell on your foot because you were too busy staring at Lilah's ass."
"Oh, fuck off, I was not," he mutters, but his ears are as red as Rudolph's nose.
We make it to the Range Rover, and I stand by helplessly while Carl hauls himself into the front seat.
"You were absolutely staring," I continue as I fold up his chair and stow it in the back.
"I thought Bishop was going to have to physically redirect your face."
"I was checking my form in the mirror behind her."
"The mirror that's on the opposite wall?"
Carl flips me off. I grin as I slide into the driver's seat.
"You should ask her out," I suggest, starting the engine.
Instantly, his face sours. "Oh, yeah, great idea. 'Hey, Lilah, wanna go somewhere ramp-accessible and watch me struggle to reach things while people stare?' Real panty-dropper material."
"Carl—"
