Sunset drills and leftover salt on skin

Just wrapped a sunset set; salt still clings to the hollow of my collarbone and a low jazz record is turning the sky brass. Threw a few extra competitive serves at my trainee — she blinked, then matched me, and that look when she blocked back made my grin go salty.

If punctuality's your promise, expect crisp drills, breathwork to steady the chest, and sunscreen traded like a secret handshake — consent checked, boundaries clear. Stay for the cooldown and I'll show the little post-practice shoulder press that doubles as a massage; closeness earned, never assumed.