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After hanging up with Bronte, I finished my work, eager to head to the yoga studio. It was a welcome change from Alex’s relentless questions all day.
What does Jason do for a living?
How much does he make?
Does he own a house?
Is his hair really as soft as it looks?
I began the class with my eyes closed, as usual. “Clear your mind.” I inhaled through my nose. “Relax your mouth.” And exhaled through my lips. “Let the tension from today roll away with every breath.” Another inhale. “Arms up.” And exhale. “Swan dive to forward bend.”
The class followed as I folded in half, taking more deep breaths. “Back up to mountain pose.”
I rose back up, opening my eyes, and there was Jason in the back of the room, hands pressed together in front of his chest. Heat flushed my neck, and I bit my lip, covering the idiotic smile I knew I’d been sporting all day.
Continuing the class, I felt his eyes on me the whole time. Attempting to keep my back to him as I helped students adjust their movements, I made my way past him, but he stretched out his long arm and flicked my thigh.
I whipped my head around to find a grin plastered across his face.
I hated that I loved that face so much. I’d forgive a lot for that stupid grin.
At the end of the hour, everyone left except for Jason, who stayed seated on his mat as I went about the room, picking up my supplies.
“I was thinking we could have pizza tonight,” he said, and I piled up a few blocks in the corner of the room.
“It’s weird I have to keep reminding you I’m vegan, when the night we met, that’s, like, all you talked about.”
“Patently false,” he said, towing me down to his lap as I approached him, and positioned my legs on either side of his hips. “I did my research. I grabbed a few frozen vegan pizzas from the store after work.”
“Really?” I played with his hair—because, yes, it was incredibly soft—feeling my cheeks stretch wide. I didn’t think I’d ever smiled so much as I had in the last twenty-four hours.
He nodded, moving his hands to my thighs, where he plucked at the material covering them. “I love these pants on you.”
“Does that mean you’re coming over to my parents’ house tonight?”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
I gasped. “This is weirdly incestuous, isn’t it? We’re basically step siblings.”
“LikeGame of Thronesup in here.” He laughed then kissed my chin. “Back to the issue at hand. Is it okay with you if I come over tonight?”
When I made a show of thinking about it, he skated his hands under my shirt. “I’m coming over. With pizza. The cardboard kind for you, the real kind for me.”
I smacked his wandering fingers away and stood, lugging him up with me. He walked me out after I locked up and opened the car door for me, leaning inside to kiss my cheek. “I’ll be over in an hour.”
After stopping at my apartment to feed all my animals and give Mr. Clooney a scratch behind his ears, I was off again to Mom and Frank’s house. By the time I’d showered and changed, I heard Jason thumping around in the kitchen.
His back was to me as he grabbed plates from the cabinet, the muscles in his back visible beneath his tight gray T-shirt.
“Smells good,” I said, and he whirled around, his eyes alight as he took me in.
“Those pants look familiar.”
I pinched the long flannel pajama pants that I’d rolled up around my hips. “You said I never wear real clothes.”
He pulled out a stool for me at the kitchen island. “Where’d you find them?”
“I went on a little tour of your room when I got home.” I watched him slide on a mitt to remove the pizzas from the oven and placing them on hot pads on the counter. So domesticated.
