AllFreeNovel
Share Us
In this sport, an edge can make all the difference between a good year and a great one. An edge makes you better than the next guy they’ll trade you for.
When I leave the rink, I head over to Fillmore Street, to the studio where Briar teaches.
As I near the red-brick facade of Peak Performance Yoga, my skin buzzes like it usually does when I know I’m going to see her. But the charge is even more electric after last night.
Which is utterly fucking ridiculous.
I mean, it’s not like I’m going to ask her out—not after what her wanker of an ex did to her less than twenty-four hours ago. I’m off romance altogether, too, after Samantha.
This buzzing in my cells is just…because I like her style of exercise.
Yeah right.
After I check in I head to the class, but she’s not here greeting students, setting out mats, or offering individual tips. She’s usually here early. Ten minutes early. Like I normally am.
I’m not bothered. I’m really not bothered.
I grab a spot, roll out my mat, and take a drink from my water bottle. The class filters in. I check the time.
Class should start in three minutes.
A bright voice carries confidently across the studio. “Good morning, friends. Are you ready to flow and flex today?”
Stupid fucking grin.
I fight it off over her usual greeting as she strides to the front of the class on agile bare feet, dressed in sky-blue leggings with crisscross cutouts along the side revealing her creamy flesh.
After she sets down her mat, her blue eyes linger on me a little longer than they do everyone else. They curve up in a hint of a grin, a private acknowledgement of last night.
At least, I hope.
Which is a stupid hope.
Dismissing it, I laser in on balance.
I’m just here for the balance. That edge.
That is all.
An hour later I roll up my mat, lingering behind as Briar says goodbye to other students. When everyone’s gone, I head over. It’d be weird not to, I reckon. “And how is Frances Furbottom?”
“Very, very furry still. And, Rhys,” she says, my name sounding like it tastes good on her lips, “thank you again for the gift. It was really incredible. I was going to send you guys a thank you this afternoon. I was just waiting for Ledger to send me your numbers.”
Shit. I don’t want her to think I’m in class today because I’m shilling for a thanks. “No worries. I’m just here to work on my balance,” I say and wow, that doesn’t sound like I’m trying to cover up a massive fucking crush. I try to inject some chill in my voice. “Anyway, I’m glad you got them.”
Last night after she dropped us off, we didn’t go back to check out Steven’s building after all. We grabbed a beer and decided we couldn’t just let a woman who’d been kicked out have to haul her clothes around in rubbish bags. We ordered some luggage online and since Hollis heard that she was staying with his cousin, we arranged for our group gift to arrive there this morning.
“I was just going to borrow some suitcases from Aubrey, but now I have my own. In pink and purple,” Briar says, and she sounds delighted to have the luggage.
“We had a feeling you liked the colors,” I say.
“Well, you felt right.” She doesn’t seem to realize the double entendre at first, then she does, dipping her face. “I mean…”
“Hopefully it feels good. You shouldn’t hesitate to feel up luggage.”
“Then I’ll have my hands all over it later.”
I might regret this later. I probably will. But I say it anyway. “Lucky luggage.”
