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Chapter Fifteen
Sofia
It’seasy to say I didn’t get much sleep last night. I tossed and turned, thinking of everything Amelia said. I’ve considered that maybe I don’t care about the V-card, but then I know I do. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve struggled with it. I even considered taking care of it with one of my cousins’ friends before I came to Bellevue, but my mom had an episode, and I used that as an excuse since I didn’t know the guy. I know, pathetic, but I was scared. The thing is, I honestly don’t think about it often. But when I do, it bothers me. It makes me feel like I’m some sort of freak. Even the other girls in my gym had lost theirs before our senior year—not that I ever admitted I hadn’t. It wasn’t their business. Plus, while they were out handing their card to some dude, I was getting a full-ride scholarship with perks.
I should be proud of that.
And really, I don’t care what people think, because I made the choice. It’s my body, I do what I want with it, and no one can make me feel bad about it. Problem is, I guess I’m sorta making myself feel bad. Or I did. Shit, I don’t know. But man, I love Amelia. She talked to me in a way no one ever has. My mom has too much to worry about, and I wouldn’t dream of bringing this up to her. And while it all is a mystery to me, Amelia never once made me feel bad for it. She advised me, and I appreciate that. Only now, it seems it’s all I can think about.
So really, I’m uncertain if I hate her or I love her. One thing is for sure, it wasn’t only our discussion that had me tossing and turning. No, it was the fact that I couldn’t get the image of Ryan’s sexy abs and thighs out of my head.
Damn it, I’m a hot mess express.
Which is why I’m so glad I decided to do yoga on this fresh and sort of brisk morning. Sitting on the mat I borrowed from Coach Melissa, I close my eyes and move my head in a circle to stretch. It’s four a.m., and because of that, just the serious yogis are here. I only come to this class once a month, and I hide in the back for the simple fact that I suck at yoga. I know. How can a gymnast suck at yoga? I dance and flip on a four-inch beam, but I don’t know. It’s not right for my body to be bent into those positions and told to hold them. It’s actually really obnoxious, but I need the stretch.
I let my head fall back as I exhale.
“Is this spot taken?”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Opening my eyes, I see a pair of striking blue ones looking down at me. Ryan points to the spot beside me. “You saving that for someone?”
He doesn’t wait for my answer; he sets his mat down before I ask, “What in the world are you doing here?”
“Yoga.”
“Be real.”
He gives me a look as he yanks off his pants, those damn short shorts teasing me. “What? I love yoga.”
“Hey, Justice. Dude, so glad you could make it.” I look up as the instructor slaps hands with Ryan before doing some stupid bro handshake.
“Yeah, man, I’ve been beat lately, but I gotta stretch my back. It’s getting tight.”
“No problem. I’ll make sure to focus on that.”
“You’re a rock star, Prince.”
Prince? What the hell?
“You know it.” He shoots Ryan a thumbs-up before walking away.
Ryan grins down at me. “Told ya.”
I look away, annoyed. Of course he does yoga. The universe is out to get me, I swear. I try to ignore him as he stretches in different positions, but of course, he’s Chatty Cathy at four a.m. “Did you and Amelia get all your work done last night?”
“Yes,” I grumble, pointing my toes to the front and then back.
“That’s good. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable yesterday.”
“No big.”
He chuckles before sitting down beside me. He’s a good two feet away, but he might as well be on top of me. My body is trembling. I want to watch as he stretches, but I am trying to be indifferent here. “You look mad.”
“I always look mad.”
“No, you don’t.”
“What?”
“You don’t. You usually have this sweet little tilt to your lips and your eyes are bright, but right now, you look stabby.”
I want to laugh. “Whatever,” I say, stretching my arms. “If you’re so good at this, why don’t you go to the front?”
He gives me a sideways glance. “’Cause I get a wedgie in these shorts. I don’t want girls checking out my ass.”
I groan. Now I’m going to be checking out his ass! “Oh please, you love it.”
“Nah, unless you want me to go up there so you can check out my ass in secret. I’ll do it for you.”
Please, God. Please don’t let him do that. “I am here to concentrate on stretching, not checking you out.”
He leans toward me, his very spicy and sexy-smelling cologne filling my nose. “But you are.”
I cut him a look. “I am not.”
“Oh, you totally are,” he teases, his eyes bright, before shaking out his wrist. His eyes are so stunning, and it’s then that I notice something.
“Where are your glasses?”
“I don’t wear them when I’m working out. They fall off my face.”
“Oh.” Oops, that was obvious. “Makes sense.”
“Why? You like them?”
