Now he’s flirting with me?
The man I met this morning wouldn’t have been able to flirt his way across the street with GPS.
His eyes linger on me for a long moment before he glances up to the menu again. “So what do you recommend?”
I’m almost too shaken to answer as my brain struggles to reconcile this charming man with the sourpuss who was in my class this morning. Finally, I manage to say, “The Classic Big Daddy is the most popular sandwich. It has turkey, ham, and roast beef, with swiss and provolone.”
“Sounds good, but which isyourfavorite sandwich?”
This flirting is new, but his voice is definitely just as I remember it, and he’s using it to its full effect. In fact, the deep rumble of it sets off a little tingle deep in my belly. His good looks don’t hurt either, and the amount of focus he’s directing my way is positively intoxicating.
“Um… I usually get the West Coast, or the Greek. They’re both really good if you like chicken.”
“Great. I’ll take one of each of those.” He starts to reach around for his wallet, and I can’t help but remember how good his backside looked this morning.
“One of each?” I gesture with both of my hands. “The sandwiches are really big.”
“Perfect.” His neck swivels, looking around the restaurant, finding the soda station. “Two large drinks, too, and two bags of chips.”
My eyes immediately go to his left hand. I didn’t notice a ring earlier, but maybe he wouldn’t wear it to the gym. Nope, stillno ring. Probably a girlfriend, though. And he has no business flirting with me.
I don’t know why I care, though. I’m done with men, at least until I’m so old that I lose my memory and forget what assholes they are.
The door chimes, alerting me that another customer is coming in. A whole family, in fact.
I give Mr. Hot & Cold an impersonal smile as I gesture to the card reader, and then I look past him to greet the new arrivals.
CHAPTER 5
CALLIE
The man shows up for yoga class the next morning, and I wait for the charm and flirting, but it never materializes.
He's back in grump mode, maybe because I didn’t return his flirtations at the sandwich shop yesterday. Or maybe his hormones sleep in late, like I wish I could.
There are two other fairly new attendees in class, so I keep the routine on the easier side, and Mr. Hot & Cold does pretty well. He’s still stiff as a board, but he doesn’t fall over, so that’s a big improvement.
He may not speak much, but he still spends a lot of time checking me out, even when I’m not demonstrating. Multiple times, I catch him watching me as I walk around the room, but I ignore the looks.
He’s back again the next day for his third class in a row. The room is more crowded than usual, and several of the women are huddled in pairs or small groups before it’s time to begin. They talk in low voices and frequently cast glances at our sole malestudent, giving me the idea that they’ve brought friends purely because of his presence in class.
That evening, I mention this in passing to my roommate, Marissa, while we’re making a simple dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Some comforting carbs, and then I’ll be off to bed.
She’d seemed tired herself, but she perks up at this bit of news. “You think women are coming to class just so they can check this guy out?”
“It seems that way. I’ve never had so many students in one session, and there were a lot of heads swiveling and even some giggling.”
“What does he look like?”
“What doeswholook like?” Our other roommate, Ana, comes into the kitchen, fresh from a shower, her long hair wrapped up in a towel. It’s not often that all three of us are home together for dinner. Usually, it’s just me grabbing something quick before I crash. She stretches to look over Marissa’s shoulder to see the soup heating on the stove. “Mmm, smells good. Thanks for making dinner.”
“We’re talking about a guy who’s been coming to Callie’s yoga class all week. Apparently, he’s a real hottie.”
As I peek under the edge of the sandwich that’s currently cooking, I feel both sets of my roommates’ eyes on me even before I turn to see them. “Yeah, he’s good looking, but he’s an odd one.”
Marissa steps back to lean against the refrigerator, giving me room at the stove. “How so?”
“He’s barely verbal in class, never cracks a smile, and seems to be suffering through every minute of every pose.”
