“Can you commit, Drop?” I glared at him as his sea-green eyes narrowed before he raised one arm up and suddenly, I felt the inside of his fist wrap around the bar against the outside of mine. Then his chest was against my back, his other palm gripping the bar next to mine as he hopped up, caging me in. Our bodies pressed against one another’s as he crisscrossed his calves under my shins and lifted. My body weight was gone. The shake in my muscle gone. The strain of hitting number nine in my reps gone. “Nine, Drop,” he whispered
