4. Daxton

FOUR

DAXTON

Last night, Savannah had been a bundle of energy, but there was a noticeable shift in her tonight. As we moved through our second session, her vibrant spark seemed muted, and tension radiated from her. Whenever I offered tips or encouragement, she flashed a polite smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

I tried to chalk it up to her having a difficult day and left it at that. My panther was restless, though. He pushed me to do something about it. I wanted to, but I wasn't sure what. While I thought about all this, her phone rang, garnering both of our attention.

"You can take that if you need to," I said. "I'll be right over there, spotting Sal on the weight bench," I added, gesturing to where he stood, readying himself for a few reps.

Savannah hesitated before reaching for her bag and digging her cell out. "Thanks," she replied, her tone tinged with the same underlying strain she'd had all session.

Again, the urge to ask her if she was all right flitted through me, stemming from my panther, but I ignored it. Instead, I moved toward the weight rack and Sal.

Savannah answered her phone, and using my shifter hearing, I zeroed in on her. I knew it was an invasion of privacy, but my panther's concern for her overrode my better judgment.

"I've already heard you out. I know—but—" I heard her say, her voice tinged with irritation. "That's not what we agreed on."

My curiosity piqued as regret for not helping someone closer to where we'd been working out slid through me. I wanted to know what the person on the other end of the conversation was saying to her.

Sal began his set, grunting as he lifted the bar racked with a hundred and forty-five pounds, and causing me to miss part of what she'd said to whoever she was talking to.

"I need some time to think, okay? I'll call you later," she continued, her voice nearly trembling with her irritation.

As the call ended, I noticed she let out a long sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world. When she looked up, catching my gaze for a brief moment, I spotted a flicker of vulnerability in her stare. There was a raw openness that she quickly masked with a small, forced smile. My panther made a noise, but I silenced him. The gym wasn't a place for him, and he knew it. I wasn't playing any games with him today.

"Take a break," I called to her. "Grab some water. Sal only has a few more sets."

"All right," she said, appearing relieved to not dive back into our workout right away.

My focus stayed split between spotting Sal and watching Savannah for the next few minutes. She took a few sips of water, but then shifted her attention to her phone. I watched as she tapped out a text to someone and then looked as though she erased it. Then she did it all over again.

Whoever she'd been speaking with had gotten under her skin.

Once Sal finished with his last set, I gave him some words of encouragement and a couple tips, then made my way back to Savannah.

"Everything okay?" I asked, trying to sound casual but concerned.

She looked up from her phone, a hint of surprise flashing across her face before she regained her composure. "Yeah, just some personal stuff."

I wanted to press further, to offer support or help in any way I could, but I also didn't want to overstep. "If you ever need to talk, or if there's anything I can do, let me know," I offered.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"No problem," I said. "Now, how about we get back to it?"

We resumed our session, but I couldn't help wondering what trouble she was dealing with. As she struggled to hide it, my curiosity grew.

"Your head isn't here tonight, is it?" I asked after a while, my tone soft. I didn't want to offend her, only to point out the obvious. "I know I already said it, but if there's anything you want to talk about, or if you need someone to listen, I'm here."

As she stared at me, her eyes seemed to reflect her inner turmoil. Seconds ticked away before she released a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry. You're right. I'm not feeling it tonight. It's my ex," she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. My panther perked up at the mention of her ex, but I shoved him back. "We own a rental house together. After we broke up, we both agreed I could stay there rent free as long as I took care of the place and handled the utilities. But now, he's changed his mind about it. Instead of me staying there rent free, he's demanding I pay."

My panther stirred with irritation, and I even felt a tinge of it toward her ex for his broken promise to her.

"That's not right," I said. "If the two of you agreed on the terms together, he has no right to change them now. Do you have a contract?"

She shook her head. "No, I was stupid and didn't think to have one drawn up."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," I said, hating she'd called herself stupid.

"It's hard not to be, especially when I don't know what to do," she admitted, a hint of defeat in her voice. "I thought things were finally going well. We'd come to an agreement about it all. I was focused on my fresh start."

My jaw twitched. I could see the strain of the situation weighing on her, the uncertainty of her living arrangements. In that moment, all I wanted to do was help her—even without my panther's influence.

And then a thought came to me.

"Considering you're half-owner, and already handling the utilities and upkeep, doesn't it seem reasonable that you shouldn't be expected to pay the full rent he's demanding?" I questioned, trying to offer a practical solution. "Maybe you could propose paying a quarter of the rent. It sounds like a fairer arrangement, given what you're already doing at the place."

"I hadn't thought of it like that," she admitted, a glimmer of hope entering her eyes. "That actually makes sense."

Satisfaction slithered through me and my panther. "Good. I don't like seeing others be taken advantage of, which is what it sounds like he's trying to do to you."

"It wouldn't be the first time," she muttered with a frown.

My panther growled at her reply, and while I didn't like the knowledge either, I attempted to get back to our session.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, meaning it. "Ready to dive back in? I've saved the best for last. Your favorite— Bulgarians ." I grinned, hoping to lighten the mood.

It garnered me a smile—a real one—and satisfaction and pride worked its way through my panther and me at the sight of it.

As we continued with our workout, I noticed a subtle shift in her demeanor. A lightness to her that hadn't been there before. She seemed less burdened than when we started, which made me feel good about myself all over again.

As we wrapped up, she turned to me with a smile. "Thanks," she said, taking a sip of her water.

"For an awesome workout?" I arched a brow, holding her stare, and hoping for more clarity on what she was thanking me for.

"That, but also for listening to me whine about my ex and for your advice."

"Eh. No problem," I said. "I'm glad I could help."

Once she'd booked her next session with me and gathered her things, I watched her exit the gym, a slight sense of unease settling in me. I realized something then—Savannah wasn't just a client to me anymore; I cared about her well-being.

My panther made a noise, voicing his agreement, but I ignored him.

As I tidied up the equipment we'd used, Savannah stayed front and center in my thoughts. Until Lorenzo, another from the Ashen Tribe, sent a message, asking if I wanted to meet him at Last Drop for a drink. Deciding to take him up on the offer, I wondered if a drink would keep Savannah from filling my head for a while.