Dick and Paige moved back to the floor, heading toward the barbell rack. Paige didn't waste time. She walked directly to the bench.
"I feel my glutes aren't benefiting from hip-thrusts anymore," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "Check my form."
Dick nodded, watching her with a detached professionalism. She was all business now, any hint of sarcasm or smugness gone. Paige loaded up the barbell with plates, settling onto the bench and positioning herself under the bar with practiced ease. She pushed her hips up, resting the bar across her pelvis as she lifted and held the thrust.
Dick stepped around her, observing. Her form was good—better than most people he'd seen attempting this move, as he watched countless videos as part of his training for this new job—but there was something off in the execution. She wasn't fully engaging her core, and her range of motion was slightly restricted.
"Drop your hips a little lower on the descent," he instructed. "You're stopping short of full activation."
Paige exhaled sharply but complied, lowering her hips until they almost touched the floor before thrusting upward again. This time, the movement was smoother, more controlled. He could see the shift in how her glutes fired, the tension spreading through the right muscles.
"Better," he said. "Keep your core tight and don't rush the movement. Focus on the stretch at the bottom."
Paige grunted in acknowledgment, working through the reps with more focus now. Dick stood off to the side, arms crossed, keeping a close eye on her form. Her body trembled slightly as she pushed through the last set, clearly feeling the burn. She racked the bar with a loud clank, sitting up and wiping the sweat from her forehead.
"Feel it now?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow.
Paige shot him a quick glance, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. "Yeah," she muttered, rolling her shoulders. "I get it."
Without missing a beat, she stood up and headed toward the dumbbell section. Paige wasn't the type to need constant reassurance or chit-chat. She wanted results, plain and simple, and that was fine by him. The less talking, the better.
She grabbed a pair of dumbbells, setting up for Bulgarian split squats, her gaze focused as she balanced one foot on the bench behind her. She didn't ask for advice this time, and Dick didn't offer any.
Instead, Dick turned his attention to a woman at the far side of the gym, struggling with a cable machine. She was doing hip abductions, her movements awkward and unsteady, as if she wasn't quite sure how to execute the exercise properly. Unlike Paige, she wasn't demanding attention. Her posture was hunched, and she kept her gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding eye contact with anyone.
She was the type who slipped through the cracks in places like this—shy, unsure of herself, easily overlooked.
He approached quietly, not wanting to startle her. She was in the middle of a set, her form deteriorating with each rep as she tried to power through the movement. When she finally finished, panting slightly, Dick stepped up but kept a respectful distance.
"Hi, I'm Dick," he said, his tone calm, non-threatening. "I just started working here, and I noticed something in your posture. Mind if I help you correct it?"
She glanced up, her eyes wide with uncertainty. For a moment, she looked like she was about to brush him off, but then she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sure... I guess."
Dick moved closer, positioning himself next to her. "Alright. When you do this exercise, you want to focus on keeping your hips steady. Right now, you're tilting too much to one side, which means your glutes aren't getting the full activation. Here, try this." He stepped back, giving her space to reset.
She followed his instructions, adjusting her stance as he spoke. "Focus on pulling from the hip, not the leg. Keep your core tight, and move slowly. It's not about how many reps you do—it's about the quality of each one."
The woman nodded, trying again. This time, her movements were more controlled, her posture more stable. Dick watched closely, giving her small pointers as she worked through the set.
"Better," he said after a few reps. "Feel the difference?"
She paused, her breathing still heavy, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Yeah... actually, I do. Thanks."
"No problem," Dick replied, stepping back. "Just keep that in mind, and you'll see more progress."
She glanced at him, her earlier nervousness fading slightly. "You're good at this."
He shrugged. "I've had some practice."
She gave him a small smile, clearly more comfortable now that she wasn't feeling like she was floundering. "Thanks again," she said, her voice a little stronger this time.
Dick nodded and moved away, letting her finish her workout in peace.The more people he helped, the more they'd start to trust him, rely on him. That was the key.
When he returned to Paige, she was standing near the barbell rack, arms crossed over her chest. There was a glint in her eye, something sharp and playful.
"You know how to make a girl jealous," she said, her tone teasing but with an edge of challenge. She flicked her gaze toward the woman he'd just helped.
Dick raised an eyebrow, barely suppressing a smirk. "You knew what you were signing up for before you agreed. Either learn to share or lose me."
Paige's lips curled into a slow, smug smile. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "I don't share well."
"Then you better get used to competing," he shot back, his tone just as smooth.
She scoffed, "Whatever. I doubt you can look anywhere else after this."
Paige bent down to load another barbell, her tight leggings clinging to every curve as she prepared for her next exercise. She was setting up for deadlifts now, her posture perfect yet almost theatrical. She knew exactly what she was doing, the angle of her hips giving him a full view of her shapely ass as she adjusted the weights.
Dick didn't react outwardly, keeping his face neutral. She was testing him, seeing if he'd get distracted. "You ready?" he asked, his tone all business as he stepped beside the bar.
Paige shot him a sidelong glance, her lips curling into a smirk. "Oh, I'm always ready."
She gripped the bar, positioning her feet shoulder-width apart, her back perfectly straight as she lowered herself into position. The weight wasn't light—Paige didn't half-ass her workouts, and Dick could respect that. But her form had a small flaw—her hips were rising too fast compared to her shoulders.
"Slow your hips down," Dick said, his voice steady, no hint of distraction. "You're losing power by pulling too fast from your lower back."
She grunted but adjusted, her movements smoother this time as she lifted the bar with a controlled pull. The weights clanged softly as she set them back down, her breathing even as she went for another rep. This time, her form was on point.
By the end of the set, Paige was breathing harder, her face flushed but triumphant. "I've had this problem for years, and no one called it out before. All those fuckers, I wasted money on. Where were you all this time?"
Dick chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Probably in my bedroom."
Paige raised an eyebrow, clearly not getting the joke. She shrugged it off, stretched with a satisfied sigh. "Anyway, I feel cramps coming. Enough for today."
Dick nodded, stepping back. "When you get home, soak in a warm bath. Epsom salts if you've got them. Helps with muscle cramps and, well, the other kind too."
Paige grabbed her towel, throwing it over her shoulder. "You're really into this whole 'know-it-all' routine, aren't you?"
He smirked. "It's what you're paying for."
"Touché," she muttered, flashing a half-smile before turning toward the door. "See you tomorrow, newbie. Same time."
"Yeah, we'll keep working on your form and figure out how to push past the plateau. Just let me know if you need anything else."
Paige gave him a lazy wave as she headed toward the locker room. "I'll be sure to text you if I feel like complaining about the cramps."
Dick smirked as she walked away, then turned to clean up the weights. Her attitude was still sharp, but there was less bite in it now. She was the kind of person who respected results, and he'd delivered.
The rest of his shift passed uneventfully. Karen checked in once or twice, mostly watching from a distance, but didn't hover. By the time his hours were up, the gym had emptied out.
As he headed out, his phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from Paige.
Paige: Bath worked. I hate that you were right.
He chuckled, typing a quick reply.
Dick: Get used to it.
Getting home, Dick saw Melissa and her boyfriend, Daniel, standing at the front door. Out of all his stepsisters, Melissa was the only one who spoke to him like they weren't total strangers. But it was all fake. She wasn't any less venomous than Clara or Jessica, just smarter about hiding it. The thing that set her apart, though, was her modesty. She didn't flaunt herself the way Jessica did or weaponize her looks like Clara. If anything, she kept a distance, maintaining some air of respectability.
Even now, Daniel stood a step behind her, his hands shoved in his pockets, looking every bit the picture of polite restraint. No groping, no sloppy make-out sessions like Ryan and Jessica. Daniel was Melissa's accessory, a clean-cut golden boy who followed her every lead.
Seeing Dick, Melissa smiled brightly, her eyes lighting up in that rehearsed, effortless way she had. "Dick! I missed you today, where were you?"
Dick smiled back, just as polished, playing the game. "I started a new job. How are you doing?"
Melissa leaned against the doorway, her voice soft, almost too sweet. "A job? Well, look at you, growing up and all. Good for you." She shot a glance at Daniel, who stood quietly behind her. "Daniel, isn't that great?"
Daniel nodded politely, offering a thin smile. "Yeah, man. Congrats."
Dick shrugged. "It's just something to do until school starts."
Melissa tilted her head, her smile not wavering but her eyes sharpening just a bit. "You never mentioned applying anywhere. What kind of job did you get? And what school?"
"Just started working at a gym today. And I took the entrance exam for the college nearby," Dick said with casual enthusiasm. He kept his tone light, like it was no big deal, watching for her reaction.
Melissa's smile stayed in place, but there was a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth. She glanced him over, noting the baggy hoodie and loose jeans he hadn't bothered to change out of yet. The look on her face said it all—she assumed he was scrubbing floors or cleaning locker rooms. As far as she knew, there was no other reason for someone like him to be at a gym.
"Oh, that's... great!" Her voice had that faint, patronizing lilt, the kind people used when they were humoring someone they considered beneath them. "Community college can be a good start for someone, you know, rebuilding."
Dick didn't miss the condescension, but he let it slide. She'd see soon enough. "Yeah, something like that," he said, shrugging. "Keeps me busy."
Daniel nodded again, always the quiet lapdog, never stepping out of line. "Gym's a solid place to be. Lots of people, new faces... Could be good for you."
Dick didn't bother responding. Daniel's words were like background noise—meaningless, polite fluff. His attention shifted back to Melissa, who was still sizing him up, probably calculating how long he'd last before dropping out or quitting.
"Well, good luck with that," she said but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes. Curiosity? Doubt? It didn't matter. She'd made up her mind about him a long time ago, and he wasn't about to correct her assumptions now. Let her think he was the same loser she'd always known. The less she knew, the better.
Melissa glanced at her watch, already moving past him. "We've got dinner plans, but maybe you can join us next time," she added, knowing full well he never would.
"Sure, maybe," Dick replied, not even pretending to care.