Chapter 1

The fluorescent lights of the grocery store hummed softly overhead as Daniel pushed his cart down the cereal aisle. He hadn’t meant to stare. At least, that’s what he told himself.

She was a few steps ahead of him, standing on tiptoe to reach a box from the top shelf. Baby blue leggings hugged her figure, tan flats planted lightly against the tile. When she stepped back down and moved on, his eyes followed before he could stop them.

Full hips. Narrow waist. Confident stride.

He pretended to examine a display of granola bars, then drifted after her toward produce. He tried to look casual-checking his phone, comparing prices-but every time she turned away, his gaze dropped again.

It wasn’t the first time he’d done this. It wasn’t even the first time that week.

In the dairy section, she slowed. Daniel nearly walked into her.

She turned.

Her expression wasn’t angry. It was tired. Knowing.

“You know,” she said calmly, tilting her head, “I can make it easier for you to look at a nice ass like mine.”

Daniel blinked. “I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”

The apology died in his throat.

There was no flash of light. No thunderclap. Just a strange, warm pulling sensation around his hips, like gravity had shifted.

His jeans tightened.

Not just tight-reshaping.

He gasped and grabbed his cart as his center of balance tipped backward. His waist seemed to cinch inward while his hips pressed outward against the fabric. His thighs thickened, firm and heavy, brushing together. The denim softened, lightened, stretched.

Baby blue.

Seams slid and dissolved until his jeans were gone-replaced by smooth, snug leggings identical to hers. His shoes shrank around his feet, hard soles thinning into flexible tan flats.

He felt lighter above the waist, heavier below it. Curved. Pronounced.

Shoppers passed by without slowing, unaware.

Daniel slowly twisted his torso and looked over his shoulder.

Where his straight-backed frame had been, there was now a narrow waist flowing into rounded hips and a full, unmistakable curve beneath the tight fabric. The leggings traced every contour. When he shifted his weight, the movement was foreign yet undeniably real.

He swallowed.

It looked exactly like hers.

He spun back toward the woman.

But she was already walking away, turning down the next aisle.

“Wait!” he called, wobbling slightly in his unfamiliar stance. The change in his stride made every step feel exaggerated, swaying.

He hurried after her-past pasta, past canned goods-but the aisle was empty.

He checked the next one.

Nothing.

At the end of the row, he caught his reflection in the freezer door. A narrow waist. Thick thighs. Baby blue leggings stretched over a figure he had admired moments before.

Now it was his.

A couple pushing a cart glanced at him briefly, then away, uninterested.

Heat crept up his neck.

For the first time, he became acutely aware of the way fabric clung, of how exposed he felt from behind. Every shift of his hips drew attention-real or imagined.

He hurried toward the exit, trying to walk normally, but the motion only emphasized what he now carried.

At the sliding doors, he paused.

Across the parking lot, he thought he saw her-standing beside a car, watching.

Their eyes met.

She gave him a small, knowing smile.

Then she got in and drove away.

Chapter 2

Out in the parking lot, Daniel stood beside his cart, the cool air brushing against the unfamiliar curve of his hips. The world felt unchanged-cars rolling past, shopping carts rattling, someone laughing near the entrance-yet everything about him was different.

He walked toward his car, each step reminding him of the new weight and motion in his lower body. Halfway there, panic struck him.

His keys.

His wallet.

He reached instinctively toward his hip-nothing. The baby blue leggings clung smoothly from waist to ankle. No pockets. No belt loops. No place to hide anything.