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“Because it hasn’t,” I say and cross my arms over my chest. “If it did, I would have said something. But I like it a lot, and I don’t want you to stop wearing it.”
“I’ve asked you several times to talk to me about your asthma, and you refuse. I can’t protect you if I don’t know how. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to know that something could hurt you, but I don’t know what that something is?”
“I don’t need you to protect me.”
“For feck’s sake, Anastasia, I’m not telling you that women shouldn’t vote or should be kept in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant—although I like it when you’re barefoot, and someday we’ll get around to the pregnant part. But let me be a man. I’m old-fashioned enough to say that it’s my responsibility to make sure you’re safe. And I can’t do that if I don’t know what it is that triggers you.”
“Thank you.” I rest my hand on his leg and feel him relax, just a little. “Thank you for being concerned about it. Yes, sometimes, things like fragrances can make my asthma bad. But so can breathing in flour or sugar in the kitchen. Hell, a change in the weather can make it hard to breathe. I just have to be careful, and I’m able to regulate how and what’s around me.”
“I’ll not wear the feckin cologne.”
“I want you to.” I climb in his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. “I’ve loved the way you smell since the day I met you. As long as you don’t spray it near me, I should be fine.”
“But you’ll tell me if you’re ever not fine. I’ll not negotiate on this, Anastasia.”
“I’ll tell you,” I vow and kiss his cheek. “And, later, when we’re alone, I’ll tell you about the asthma. I just hate it. It’s a weakness, and it makes me feel different. It always has. So, I avoid talking about it.”
“I’ve a right to know.” He kisses my nose.
“You do,” I agree. “Now, should we get back to the others?”
“In a minute. I think I need a moment with you, just like this, before we join them.”
“Take all the time you need.”* * *Apparently, at some point during the family barbeque on Sunday, I managed to get roped into a kickboxing class at Sound Fitness, the gym that Nate’s father is about to sell. Jules, Meg, Joy, and Nic are all here with me, and Nate himself is helping me with my gloves.
Jules is my cousin, and I love and respect her more than I can say. But her husband is potent. Dear sweet Jesus, it should be illegal for Nate to be this hot.
In all fifty states.
“I don’t usually do stuff like this,” I mutter, only loud enough for Nate to hear as he secures the gloves.
“And why is that?” he asks.
“Because exercise is one of the things that can make my asthma a bitch. Hence these hips.”
“Where’s your inhaler?”
“Right here.” I nod to my purse sitting on the table next to us. We all just came marching in, dumped our stuff on this table, and got down to business. “In the middle pocket.”
“I’ll be right here.” His voice is as calm as can be. “If you need it, just tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”
“Thanks.”
“But you’re not going to need it, Anastasia.”
“I’m not?”
“No.” He slaps my glove. “Because you’re a fucking badass. Now, get in that ring and kick some butt.”
“Yeah. I’m a badass.” I knock the gloves together and climb into the ring with the others. Jules told us that Nate used to be an MMA fighter, which only makes him hotter. And if he says I’m a badass, well then, badass I’ll be.
“Okay, ladies,” Ben, our instructor and Nic’s friend, says with a grin.
I glance at Nic, catching her attention, and mouth he’s hot.
I know, she mouths back, and we fist bump our gloves.
Nic’s happily married. I’m in a great relationship myself. But we aren’t dead. It’s our civic duty as women to check out the hot men.
“Here’s what we’re going to do today.”
“Before you do that,” Jules says, interrupting him, “I didn’t think you did classes.”
“Not usually, but when Nic told me it would be you guys, I took the class.”
“He enjoys torturing me,” Nic says, blowing a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. “He’s been doing it since we were children.”
“Are we gonna chit-chat, or are we going to beat each other up?” Meg asks. “I have baby weight to lose.”
“Let’s do it.” I bounce on my toes, ready to get to it. But Meg’s baby comment reminds me of Kane casually mentioning that, eventually, I’ll be carrying his baby. I let it pass in the moment. I didn’t know what in the hell to say. It’s certainly too early to be talking about children.
