Page 37 of The Prime-Time Experiment

Her gaze lingered on the wider gaps between stations. The separation between observation areas and active training spaces, the absence of visual clutter.

Someone had anticipated movement through the room and designed around it. Her shoulders eased slightly.

“This work?”

Riley stepped further inside, taking a second pass through the space, slower this time. “Yes,” she said. “It is well organised. Thank you for adjusting it.”

Something softened in his expression. “Can’t take all the credit,” he said. “My niece helped.”

Riley glanced back at him. “How often do you see her?”

“Most days,” he said easily. “She’s usually around after school.” The smile deepened slightly, becoming less automatic. “Best part of my day, honestly.”

The admission sat between them for a moment. Riley found herself watching him instead of the room. When he was being genuine, she could see why he would have gained the social following he did. Declan gestured toward a quieter section near the far wall.

“I figured that spot might work for you. Good line of sight, but out of the way of everything.”

Riley followed the indication. It was exactly where she would have positioned herself.

“Yes,” she said. “That would work.”

His gaze flicked briefly toward her, like he was pleased he’d gotten it right. And when Riley moved further into the room, she realised something had changed.

The apprehension she’d carried with her into the house had disappeared somewhere along the way. For the first time since arriving, she wasn’t thinking about leaving.

❈

A few hours later, the rhythm of the house had become familiar.

Riley had spent most of that time stationed just outside the active training space, laptop open, notes organised beside her with their usual precision. She observed each client session in sequence, documenting patterns in instruction, movement and response.

The environment wasn’t perfectly controlled, but it was consistent. More importantly, it made sense.

Declan adapted his approach constantly, but never without reason. What had initially appeared variable revealed itself to be responsive instead. He adjusted exercises, pacing and communication based on the person in front of him, yet the underlying framework remained intact.

There was structure beneath it, she could work with structure.

Her own session was scheduled for the end of the day at her request. Partially for continuity, partially because interrupting an observation sequence midway through had felt inefficient.

The rest of the reason was harder to quantify. It had given her time to prepare. But now, standing at the edge of the gym, that logic felt less convincing than it had earlier.

Nothing around her had changed. The equipment remained where it had been all afternoon. The lighting was the same, and yet after yesterday’s attempt, a low tension sat simmering beneath her skin.

Declan moved through the room with the ease of someone operating inside a system he knew intimately. He adjusted a bench that didn’t really need adjusting, checked equipment that had already been checked.

Small, habitual movements. Comfortable ones. When he glanced up and noticed the way she was standing, just a little too still, a little too composed, something knowing flickered across his face.

“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands together once. “Full transparency before we start.”

Riley looked up. Declan’s expression remained perfectly serious. “I peaked athletically about ten years ago.”

She blinked. “It’s been a steady decline ever since,” he continued. “The knees are questionable. My lower back makes sounds that concern medical professionals. So if anything goes wrong today, statistically speaking, it’s probably me.”

For a second Riley simply stared at him. Then, despite herself, she felt the tension in her shoulders ease by a fraction. Riley looked him up and down, a quick visual sweep, before raising one brow.

“That assessment is inaccurate,” she said.

Declan’s mouth tipped slightly at one corner. “You don’t know that.”