Anya puts her palms together at her heart and bows her head. “Thank you for sharing another beautiful day in paradise with me. May you take peace with you for the rest of your day. Namaste,” she says, and we all say it back to her.
People start to scatter pretty quickly, but I sit and enjoy a few extra seconds of this peaceful feeling before I force myself to rise to a stand. That’s not at all what I was expecting out of sunrise yoga, and as much as I want to hate him, to hate what just happened and the intimacy we shared in a totally different form, I can’t.
But when I turn to tellhimthat, I can’t.
He’s already gone.
CHAPTER 14: Millie Monroe
Poolside Breakfast
I’m taking pictures of my poolside breakfast when a shadow is cast over the waffle heaping with whipped cream.
I glance up to see…yep, you guessed it. Archer Bradley, and he’s glaring at me again. Or still.
He’s wearing just a pair of swim trunks, walking around with those abs shimmering like a goddamn Greek statue, while I’m taking pictures of a very carb-heavy breakfast and drooling over the syrup as the scent wafts to my nose.
“Can you get your shadow off my plate?” I ask.
“Your worth isn’t measured in your pictures or your numbers,” he says.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
My brows dip as I glare up at him, but I think a bit of the effect is lost in the sunlight casting a halo behind his head. “No, but my stay at this resort is measured in social media posts, so I’ll thank you to stepaside.”
He does it, but it’s with a rather dramatic sigh of frustration as he plops down onto the lounger beside me.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Fuck if I know,” he mutters.
“What?”
“Nothing. I don’t know. There aren’t any other open chairs, okay?” He sounds defensive.
“I didn’t peg you to be thelie on a pool chair and relax all daykind of guy.”
“I’m not, but I spent the morning at yoga and then took a long, hard run on the beach, and I planned to sit for a while since my legs are on fire. Is that okay with you?” he asks.
“Whatever.” I change the angle and snap another photo, and I set my phone down and grab the packet with the fork in it. In the meantime, he steals a grape off my plate. A grape! The nerve! “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Seeing if the free grapes taste any different from the paid ones.”
I can’t help a little laugh at that. “And?”
“Nope.” He settles back onto his chair, and I grab my phone while I munch on my waffle and fresh fruit to view the photos I just took. It’s a little too bright to get a good read on what I took, but there’s one that has his sexy calves in the background with the pool just beyond him.
There’s nothing specifically recognizable about his calves, so it’s fine to post it. Or to put it in myspecialfolder for later. Maybe both.
I’m still staring at his legs when his voice interrupts me.
“Are you ever not on your phone?”
“I wasn’t on it much the night we met,” I say, and I don’t know why my big mouth decides to bring that night up again. Maybe it’s my secret way of telling him I want itagain. Because I do. Even if he is kind of a dick. He’s a dick whose dick I want to ride again.
“No, but I’m sure you checked your numbers right after.” He smirks.
God, what is it with this guy?
