Page 36 of The Fall

“Of course. Have a good class!”

She never tells me to have a good class.

Logan gently puts his hand on my lower back and leads me away from the front desk. “Which room?”

“Huh?” I’m still thinking about how ridiculous Liz was and why it made me irritated that she was clearly into Logan.

“Which room is your class in?” he repeats.

“Oh. Over here.”

He follows me inside the room. I set my things down in the back, and we find empty yoga mats. I was hoping the class would be mostly full by the time we got here so that we wouldn’t have to be next to each other, but I’m not that lucky. I head toward the back of the room, and Logan grabs the spot right next to me.

I audibly sigh.

He chuckles and leans over. “Would you rather I take the mat in front of you? Might give you a better view?”

“No, thank you.” That’s the last thing I need. “You’re fine right there.”

A few minutes later, the instructor comes in and we get started. Logan is surprisingly flexible, although I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s probably done this more than I have.

As we go through the poses, the instructor continually compliments him. Logan makes sure to smirk at me over his shoulder, and I rub my nose with my middle finger and make sure he sees it.

It’s annoying how perfect he is at everything. Not only is he one of the best skaters in the world, but he moves through these yoga poses like they’re nothing. He doesn’t even break a sweat while I’m over here wiping my brow every few minutes.

What’s even more annoying is that I like that he’s here with me. I feel his glances. I see the smiles aimed in my direction. And when we’re in Savasana on our backs, I feel his pinky finger brush against mine. It’s probably accidental, but my entire body freezes, giving me the exact opposite effect of what I should be feeling right now.

Why do I like it when he touches me? I normally don’t like to be touched, but a fucking finger graze is giving me butterflies? Gross. Maybe I’m getting sick or something.

“That was fun. Thanks for letting me tag along,” Logan says as he’s driving us back to the rink.

“Well, I’m glad one of us had fun,” I say, looking out the window so I don’t see his smile because I know he’s going to smile. He smiles every time I try to be mean to him. It’s almost like he likes it, which is absolutely not my intent. If he didn’t like me, it would be so much easier to go on hating him. “Let’s not make a habit of it.”

“Sounds like you’re worried I’m going to out-yoga you,” he says with a laugh.

“No, I just can’t have you distracting everyone in the class. It’s annoying.”

“Distracting? How?”

“Oh, come on. You had to have seen everyone looking at you?”

“Not really. I don’t pay attention to that.”

Of course, he doesn’t. “Well, every woman in the place was drooling over you.”

“Sounds like you’re a little jealous,” he says slyly, and I can hear the teasing lilt in his voice.

“Absolutely not.” Am I? No. No way. “It’s just annoying. I’m trying to focus on my body and the poses, and all I could see were people looking back at us.”

He chuckles softly next to me. “Well, I apologize for causing so much of a disturbance.”

“Thank you,” I say smugly.

We don’t say anything else, but I can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking about any of the women from the yoga studio. I don’t know why I care, but it pisses me off.

“Since Max isn’t coming back, I can skate with you this afternoon if you want?” Logan offers when we get back to the rink.

Normal Savannah would take him up on it. Normal Savannah wants all the extra practice she can get. But this Savannah, right now, needs to get out of here and away from him. Immediately. Before I do or say something stupid.