“Bro.” I stared at him. “That is afull dayof couple shit. We’re friends.”
He pointed to my mat. “Roll it up.”
“It’sfrozen,” I muttered, kneeling to yank it free.
My fingers were going numb. My dignity was long gone.
“Your problem, not mine,” he said, walking toward the parking lot. “Admit it, you’d kill for an entire day with her.”
“Five years ago?” I huffed, hoisting the mat under my arm. “Ididkill for a day with her.”
“Here’s your resurrection.” He grinned over his shoulder. “Tickets are at will call. Luna knows where to grab them. Have fun, lover boy.”
He shot me a smirk that made me want to chuck my frozen-ass yoga mat at his head.
“Yeah, thanks, Mr. Downward Fucking Dog,” I muttered under my breath. “Hope you pull a hammy in practice.”
I tossed the mat onto the stack of other frostbitten mats and waited while Luna took pictures with half the class. She was glowing, laughing, hugging, doing that thing where she made every single person feel like they were her favorite.
God, I envied that.
Even in the foster home, she had this way about her. Kids who wouldn’t talk to anyone would whisper to her. She made everyone feel safe. But when it was dark, when no one else could see, she only ever crawled intomybed. It was always me she needed when the world shut down.
Finally, she came strutting toward me, cheeks pink, hair wild from the wind.
“How’d you do?”
“Everything hurts,” I muttered.
She patted my back. “Good. That means it’s working.”
“Pretty sure my balls went numb in downward dog.”
She snorted. “You’re dramatic.”
“I’m serious. I think they crawled back inside me for warmth.”
She laughed, looping her arm through mine. “You’ll live. C’mon, I’m starving.”
Yeah. So was I... but not for food.
“Are you staying near the city?”
We were in my car because Dirks had driven her here earlier, so it was us, alone.
“Yeah,” I said, eyes fixed on the road. “Near my old apartment.”
“So . . . near Dirks, then.”
I nodded.
What was I supposed to do—ask about her day? How friendly were we now? Friendly enough to sit this close and pretend I didn’t want to brush my fingers along the inside of her thigh?
All I could do was stare at the road and think about how she looked sitting there—confident, glowing, like she hadn’t spent years being shattered in the same storm that had drowned me.
What I wanted to say was:Just sign the damn paperwork so I can stop pretending I don’t still feel everything I ever felt for you.
“I was thinking that we could go eat... ”
