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Chapter 1
Tessa
I don’t go to the gym at 5 pm on a Monday evening because I love engaging with tall, thin girls with Lululemon sports bras and a full face of makeup in fights to the death for the last remaining open treadmill.
I also don’t show up right when the gym is the busiest of the week because I find the chorus of grunts from the protein-shake-mixing, muscle-tank-wearing, watch-your-ass-while-you-walk-by-to-get-a-drink-from-the-water-fountain bros in the weights section appealing.
And as hard as it is to believe, I don’t choose the absolute worst time to throw on my faded UCLA Theatre Department t-shirt and sneakers, and drive over to the gym because I enjoy stuffing my bag into the only available locker between the naked andveryproud of it ninety-year-old woman and the mom trying to corral her three screaming children as they play keep-away with her bra.
No, I typically endure the gym at 5 pm on Monday evenings because I like to torture myself with the sight of yet another man I don’t stand a chance with, not even in my wildest dreams.
Cade Baxter.
Yoga instructor.
This particular Monday at 5 pm, however, I was killing two birds with one stone: admiring Cade, yes, but also avoiding an audition for an upcoming role I knew I’d never get.
As much as I loved acting, I was the kind of girl who stood outside the door to an audition and turned around without stepping inside. Performance anxiety? Maybe. Self-doubt? Totally. Three years ago I’d had a disastrous audition and been ripped to shreds by the audition director in front of everyone. Ever since, well…let’s just say that the idea of auditioning scared me more than zip lining. Or bungee jumping. Or parasailing. Or walking across an LA crosswalk in rush hour.
Heck, braving the gym is sometimes harrowing for me, but here I am.
I leaned against the rack of medicine balls as I waited for an Amazonian goddess to vacate an elliptical. At the same time, I stared at Cade through the windows of the yoga studio. Correction—Idrooledover Cade. He was tall, with long, sandy blond hair pulled back into a bun. His body was lean and muscular and if there was a yoga instructor calendar he should be Mr. July, because he was oh, so hot. His smile was kind and genuine and all I wanted was for it to be directed at me.
I took a deep breath as he stretched into downward dog, his man-bun barely touching the floor between his spread hands. I immediately coughed and kept coughing as the stench of sweat and feet and energy drinks hit my lungs. By the time I looked over at Cade again, he’d come out of downward dog and was standing behind a woman with his hands on her waist, helping her into an elaborate pose I would have said wasn’t humanly possible.
A few seconds later, an elliptical opened up and I sprinted toward it, happy because the machine was right in front of the yoga room window, offering me an even better view of Cade. As I got the machine going, I quickly switched into fantasy mode (something of a habit of mine), imagining Cade’s hands running up and down my body, his long, soft hair tickling across my breasts, his gentle breath whispering sweet nothings into my ear, even though I knew my dreams were useless since Cade didn’t even know I existed.
My phone buzzed and I saw a text from Ellis, my hot, charming best friend who for some reasonstayedfriends with me even though he’d gone the way of success and I was still scrambling around trying to figure out how to adult. Ellis was also the reason I'd said Cade was yetanotherguy Ididn't stand a chance with romantically, Ellis being thatotherguy.
I checked the text and stumbled a little on the elliptical at what I saw.
ELLIS: I’m going to fuck you. Unzip your pants.
What the hell?
Even as Iwas hit with a wave of shock, then arousal, I burst out laughing.
Obviously this was a joke.
Ellis was a soap actor who was always encouraging me to grab hold of my own brass ring. He was the person I trusted most in the world. I was totally in love with him, but we’d never, ever remotely gone there. First, because he’d never shown interest in me that way. Second, because Ellis seemed to go out of his waynotto talk about sex with me. Third, despite him generally avoiding the subject, I still knew he was sexually adventurous and slept with both women and guys, and outside of my very wild imagination, I was a vanilla kind of girl on a good day. Still, I’d fantasized about him plenty and I instantly imagined doing it—unzipping my pants in front of Ellis.
Because he was going to fuck me.
Ha ha.
Swallowing hard, I started to text Ellis that I thought he was very funny (not) when another text came through.
Unknown: …I did.
Holy shit! I almost dropped my phone and had to do some quick juggling to save it. The girl on the machine next to me gave me a weird look but I ignored her, my attention glued to the screen, my movements on the elliptical slowing dramatically.
I couldn’t believe it. Elliswasn’tjoking around. He’d accidentally added me to a group text.
ELLIS: Good. Now slide your hand down to your pussy and cup yourself.
I stopped moving on the elliptical completely. I had to, because I could no longer breathe. I was going to pass out from lack of oxygen. From shock. From sheer excitement and horniness.
ELLIS: Are you doing it?
