Mangelli frowns as he studies my face. “What is it, Bree?” he asks, not releasing his grip.
“Nothing.” I pull away, scooting out from under his shadow, and he lets me go with a quizzical expression. “We should get to class.”
Then I pick up my mat, turn my back to him, and head inside.
Mangelli follows me through the door, but now we’re surrounded by people, and that seems to keep him quiet. I head to a locker to take off my shoes, and he gives me one last searching look before finding his own empty locker.
Still, he puts his mat next to mine at the back of the room.
“Bree,” he whispers, worried. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset. I just understand the picture now.” I stretch out, trying to ignore him. Yeah, it hurt my feelings, but what did I expect? He’s married, I assume out of love. He’s only attracted to me because of what we did at DreamTogether, because of his natural biology.
I got what I wanted. We hooked up. It was great. I don’t need my emotions dragged into it, too.
“What picture is that?” he presses. But then the teacher calls the class to order, and our conversation ends. Still, Mangelli shoots me looks as we perform our poses.
At the end of class, I roll up my mat, intending to get out of there quickly. Before I can go, though, a hand lands on my shoulder.
“Bree.”
I pause, then turn around to face him.
“Please, can we go get coffee?” Mangelli asks, looking rather pathetic.
“I’m going home,” I say.
“Then let’s talk there. I’ll follow you.”
He’s not getting the message, is he? I sigh as he comes with me out into the locker room.
“Fine. If you want to talk that badly, we can.”
Mangelli waits patiently as I put on my shoes—given he’s hoofed and doesn’t need them—and then he follows me out the door. I give him instructions on how to get to my house, and eagerly he jots it down on his phone before we part ways.
As I get in my car, I wonder if I’m making a mistake.
Five
Bree
Mangelli drives an ancient compact hatchback which tails me all the way back to my apartment. He finds an empty spot in the parking lot as I switch off my engine, and hurriedly he hops out, bounding over as I try to get the key into my front door.
Finally, the lock gives and I push open the door, flipping on the main living room light as I enter. Mangelli’s right behind me, and he wipes his hooves on the mat while I take off my shoes.
“Want some water? Tea?” I ask, trying to be a good hostess as I head into the kitchen. Mangelli follows.
“Water is fine.”
I grab us each a glass. “Should always drink plenty of water after yoga,” I say as I pour it.
“That’s true!” Mangelli sounds downright jolly as I carry the glasses to the table and we both sit down. “Helps move all that gunk out of your muscles.”
“What did you want to talk about?” I ask.
His brow furrows. “Well, you seemed upset. I don’t want you to be upset with me.”
I exhale, wishing we could skip this. “I’m not upset. I just know what this is now.” Slugging back some water, I shrug. “If you still want to have sex, though, I’m game. It’s part of my job, after all.”
