Page 39 of The Prime-Time Experiment

Riley studied him. “Are you certain?”

“Yeah. I’ve got plenty.”

She considered that for a moment longer before nodding. “That may be a more suitable option.”

A grin pulled briefly at the corner of his mouth. “Look at that. We’ve already solved one problem.”

Before she could decide whether the comment required a response, he reached forward and switched the camera off. The small red recording light disappeared. The session was over, and yet Riley found herself remaining exactly where she was.

There was no immediate urge to gather her things, no need to retreat somewhere quieter and reconstruct the experience from a safe distance before she could properly process it. Instead, she stood there watching Declan move around the gym, resetting equipment and returning things to their usual places with the unconscious familiarity of someone who had repeated the same routine hundreds of times before.

For the first time since meeting Declan, the prospect of staying felt more appealing than the relief of leaving.

Chapter 9

Statistical Probability of Compatibility

Riley

A week later, the sessions no longer required negotiation.

The structure held on its own now. What started as a constant process of clarification and adjustment, gradually settled into something predictable enough that Riley no longer spent the first ten minutes of every session assessing for potential disruptions. She knew what would happen when she walked through the door. More importantly, she trusted that it would happen.

The change was subtle, but significant.

She adjusted the hem of the shirt absently as she moved through a stretch, her attention catching briefly on the fabric before moving on. Declan had been right about that too. It didn’t cling when she moved. Didn’t shift unpredictably as her body temperature increased. The material held its shape instead of becoming another variable that needed monitoring.

“The shirt has been a functional improvement,” she said.

Declan glanced over from where he was leaning against a bench. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“It is not.”

A smile tugged briefly at his mouth. “The fact you know that immediately is a little concerning.”

Riley ignored that. “The fabric maintained separation from the skin during exertion,” she continued. “It reduced unnecessary sensory input.”

“High praise.”

“It is simply accurate.”

“Sure,” he said. “But I’m still taking the win.”

The exchange ended there, not because either of them had run out of things to say, but because neither felt the need to force it further. A week ago, the silence that followed would have demanded analysis. Now it simply existed.

Declan pushed himself upright and reached for his phone. “Speaking of things that worked, the team finished editing the first session.”

Riley’s attention shifted immediately. “They’ve cut together the beginning of the progress series. Baseline assessment, observation stuff, then the first proper session after we reset everything.”

He glanced down at the screen. “They left the shirt conversation in.”

Riley considered that. “I’d consider that contextually relevant.”

“That’s what I said, just in dumbed down terms.”

“It demonstrates an environmental adjustment and the resulting outcome.”

Declan looked at her over the top of his phone. “You know most people would’ve just said yes, right?”