“Hello, Sebastian.” I should be using his nickname to keep it light, but I’m rattled and off my game. What the hell is he doing here?
“Miss me?” he asks. White teeth flash and he tilts his head just a little bit. He’s a goddamn world-class flirt. I roll my eyes even though my grin grows too.
“I don’t know you, so I can’t miss you, Frenchie,” I reply flatly and carry my mat over to the pile in the corner.
He just stands there staring at me and smirking. And then he changes the subject. “So yoga, huh?” he says.
“Certified instructor since college. I taught a few classes to help pay my way through school, and when I graduated I realized I’d rather keep doing it than find a job that applied my English lit degree,” I tell him and pull my hair from my ponytail, giving it a quick shake, trying to get the sweat in it to dry. Of course, it’s not going to dry, because we’re still standing in a stifling hot room. “Then I got an online degree in nutrition.”
Sebastian nods. “I’ll have to take one of your seminars.”
Something hits me. “How did you know I was teaching this morning?”
“I was at Liberty last night with some…buddies,” Sebastian explains, his accent sounding as hot as I remember as he says the name of my best friend’s workplace with a sexy French twist. “Your friend Audrey recognized me and brought us a free round of drinks. She told me you were teaching this morning.”
I smile ruefully. Now I know why she agreed to get me here on time and why she wanted me to call her and tell her how my day went. That bitch. God love her.
“Hey! You two looking to melt into puddles?” Trey calls out as he walks into the room and right over to the thermostat, cranking it down quickly. Just as quickly as he walks in, Trey walks out, but not before calling over his shoulder at me. “Shayne, we need to talk before you work the juice bar.”
“Sure thing!” I call back. My eyes land on Sebastian again as I start to walk out of the room. “I have to get going. I need to shower and talk to Trey and grovel for almost being late thanks to my stupid car not starting.”
He nods, following me. “Need help showering? I’m really good at scrubbing backs.”
I roll my eyes and point to the sixty-seven-year-old Mrs. Waters standing by the juice bar. “I don’t think Mrs. Waters would appreciate it. Unless of course you promise to scrub her back too.”
Sebastian’s smile drops. I turn and walk toward the women’s changing room, and a part of me wants nothing more than for him to follow me right in there anyway. It doesn’t surprise me that I’m still so incredibly attracted to him. He was cocky and charming and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the sex for the entire twelve days. So I hesitate before disappearing into the changing room and turn back to look at him. He’s just standing there, smirking and completely checking out my ass. I flush. Again. Our eyes meet, and I find my mouth moving and words coming out. Thoughts I shouldn’t voice but for some reason I am. “Are you…heading out?”
He shakes his head slowly: no. “I’ll be at the juice bar. Waiting for you.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing and disappear into the changing room, making sure to wiggle my ass as I go, since it’s probably still being ogled.
And I can’t help but think about the sex again now as I shower and change. By the time I’ve changed into clean yoga pants and one of our tangerine Lycra staff shirts, I’m tingling from the memories. It’s hard not to dwell on that night and all its naked, panting, sweaty glory—because it was so out of character for me and it had felt like the best decision I ever made in my entire life. Until the euphoria wore off, anyway.
It was what it was—one night of sex, my first orgasm by another human in ages, but nothing more. Because if it wasn’t a one-night stand to him, why did he wait twelve days to pop back up in my life? I shouldn’t get my hopes up just because he’s here now. He probably just needs a place to work out before his next triathlon or Iron Man or whatever extracurricular activity gives him that body. I need to keep my irrational hope in check.
He’s exactly where he said he’d be when I emerge from the women’s changing room. Just sitting on a stool, leaning on the counter, sipping one of our Green Giant smoothies and looking like sex on a stick. Damn him. I walk right by him with no acknowledgment and head into Trey’s office. Trey frowns at my entrance, and I know exactly what he’s annoyed about.
“I’m sorry. My car wouldn’t start,” I say honestly and give him a little shrug.
“When was the last time you had it serviced?” he asks gruffly.
“Two, maybe three years ago?”
“Years?! Christ, Shayne.” He frowns and runs a hand over his buzz cut. Trey is and always has been big, burly, loud and gruff. He’s a born-and-bred hockey jock. Really, my father never gave him any other choice. But deep down he’s more than a bulky body and a loud mouth. He has a sensitive side, a vulnerable one, which is why when he suffered a career-ending injury in college, he couldn’t handle it. But after rehab it became clear Trey was a smart businessman, and he worked hard to save money and create a business plan investors would get behind. On top of all that, despite our constant bickering, I know he’s got my back, and I think I’ve proven I will always have his.
“I don’t have anyone else who can cover for you, Shayne. You’re our only yoga instructor right now,” he reminds me with a stern look in his dark blue eyes.
“I know. And it won’t happen again, cross my heart.” I use my finger to trace an X over my heart.
“Willthathappen again?” His gaze shifts to the wall of his office that faces the juice bar. I follow his gaze.
I flush and drop my gaze to the polished concrete under my feet. I inwardly curse Sara, who told him that she caught me and Sebastian in the laundry room. “Definitely not. No.”
“Definitely?” he repeats, and when I look up at him his eyebrows are raised skeptically.
“Yeah. I told you before; it was just a one-time thing.”
“How do you know?”
