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“A little girl’s dream of being a ballerina. Awesome.” Bridget smiled imagining. “I can see you in a tutu.”
“I wanted to be a ballerina when I was six and my mother wanted me to be one after that. I didn’t have much say or time to try something else. It was all I knew. But one night, I got pregnant by a hot and swarthy twenty-year old Swiss guy in the program. That ended it all. I moved here and switched to yoga because it paid the bills.”
Bills. Shit, I forgot about Duncan and the ring. GAH! I needed to be out hunting for that stupid bulldog rock or I wasn’t going to be able to pay any of my bills.
“We have to see you dance. Now that we know, we gotta see you in action,” Mallory prompted.
Bridget and Georgia nodded in agreement.
“I only do it now on my own. Usually early in the morning before my first class. I walked away from it all for Sierra.”
Bridget and Mallory sat side-by-side and had matching mopes. “But you got a sweet, rough and tumble girl out of it! She’s better than ballet.”
I wholeheartedly agreed. “You’re right, I don’t regret Sierra one bit. But I don’t like to talk about my past, even with you all. Duncan is a prime example of my shitty judgment, so I like to leave it there."
My cell chimed with a text, and I pulled it from my sweatshirt pocket. “Oh, it’s her!”
I swiped and enlarged the photo of her with Dex. She couldn’t be smiling any bigger and Dex was giving a thumbs up, which I knew was for me that everything was fine.
My eyes filled with tears again as I passed the phone to Mallory for her to see. “She’s better than ballet and now she’s at camp for a week.”
I set my forehead in my palm and a wave of missing her overwhelmed me. God, I was a mess.
“Don’t cry!” Bridget said, patting my hand. “You need more wine. Wine makes everything better.”
“And sex,” Mallory added. “Sex makes everything even better-er than wine.”
“Since I can’t have wine for, well, ever, I agree with Mallory,” Georgia commented. “Sex makes everything better.”
I lifted my head, looked down the table to Luke. Mallory was definitely right. What I needed was a wine-and-Luke combo.
12
LUKE
* * *
Aspen was drunk. A cute drunk, but still far from sober. And she was handsy.
Really fucking handsy because she kept putting her hand on my dick while I was driving, her wants made very clear. It was a good thing I knew how to get to her house, otherwise I’d have driven into a fire hydrant. Then I’d have had to explain to Mac and his fire truck full of colleagues why I couldn’t focus.
Yeah, that kind of handsy.
I’d deflected her as much as possible with a few, “Easy, tiger.”
“The girls said sex makes everything better,” she said.
Did they?
“I agree, but not in the car.” And not while you’re drunk.
Thankfully, she’d settled like a good girl in the passenger seat until we got back to her house. I’d been half-hard ever since I walked into her class earlier and saw her in those snug-as-fuck purple leggings and matching snug top.
As I went from sun salutations to downward dog during the class, I’d thought about all the ways I was going to take her. From behind. Up against a wall. Hell, over any horizontal surface. The ideas even continued at the pizza place, although the guys had distracted me well enough.
For the first five minutes, they’d asked me about my work. I was used to being asked everything from whether I wore makeup on set to whether I really was naked in the sex scenes to if I really did operations. It seemed they didn’t give a shit about any of that. Thank fuck. It had been the most non-probing interrogation I’d ever had, and after a prostate exam, that was saying something. It went like this:
Theo to Mav and Mac: Luke plays a doctor on TV.
