Chapter 7
“Don’t beat yourself up, Willa,” Charlie said.
Willa had her on speakerphone as she laced up her sneakers to go over to Ida’s for another walk. She’d had two of her yoga classes that week, and only a few people showed up to both. Of course, Layla came to both of them, but Blake showed up, too. Presumably, he was there to keep an eye on things and gauge the success of their program.
“I just feel like there should be more people showing up, but maybe I’m not doing enough to help them spread the word,” Willa said.
“Okay, so make a flier,” Charlie said. “Ask them to mention it to guests when they’re checking in. Woo the bartender into telling everyone about it.”
“Making a flier isn’t a half bad idea.”
“See? Everything starts out small. A few people is still a few people. And you get paid either way.”
Charlie was right about that, but Willa didn’t want low attendance to cause her to lose the job. She’d never worried about this before. Back in San Francisco, she’d had her regulars. Her classes were always well-attended, and even when they weren’t, she was able to brush it off. As much as she wanted to pretend like she was unbothered by Leo’s betrayal, she knew her deepest insecurities were surfacing since finding out he cheated on her.
Or rather, he cheated on his wife.
With her.
Willa sighed. She felt like she couldn’t trust herself. Didn’t know who she was anymore. She’d been with a married man for two years without knowing. She thought she was smarter than that. She thought she would see through a guy like him.
She thought a lot of things, and she didn’t know what was true anymore.
“Willa? You there?” Charlie said.
“I’m here.”
“Look, babe. I know you’re going through it right now. Who wouldn’t be reeling after everything that’s happened to you? God, it’s only been a few weeks since you found out about him.” Charlie knew better than to say Leo’s name. “I say this with all the love in the world: You need to go to therapy. It’s not good for you to just sit with all these feelings and let them fester. I’m here to lend an ear whenever. You know that. But I really think talking to a licensed professional would go a long way. And you promised me you’d find a therapist after you moved.”
“I know,” Willa said. She’d been in and out of therapy for a lot of her life. She believed in the value of it, but just never found a therapist who stuck. “You’re right. I’ll look into it this week.”
Charlie sighed, clearly relieved.
“Good. I’m going to check in and make sure you actually do it. Getting started is the hardest part.”
Willa grinned. “Thanks, Charlie.”
“So…,” Charlie cleared her throat. “How’s it going with your sexy neighbor?”
Willa gasped. “I never said he was sexy!”
“Didn’t have to,” Charlie said, clearly holding back a laugh. “I could tell. He’s getting under your skin.”
“Look, I’m friends with his grandma and he brought me a pie. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“So you know how big his deal is? Interesting.”
“Charlie.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll shut up.”
Never mind that Willa had gone through a few boxes before digging out her favorite vibrator and masturbated to the image of a sweaty Shawn fucking her like there was no tomorrow. No, she wasn’t going to think about the fact that she’d had a sex dream about him that same night that made her wake up in a cold sweat wondering how talented he was with his tongue. And she definitely wasn’t going to mention that she’d never felt hornier in her life.
“Did I lose you?” Charlie asked, a smile sneaking through in her voice.
“Maybe I should have a one-night stand.”
A beat of silence passed.
“With your sexy neighbor?”
“No, Charlie. With… someone. Like. At a bar?”
Charlie laughed.
“You don’t do one-night stands. You do boyfriends.”
“Right, but you do. So teach me.”
“It’s not that hard, Willa. Just go to a bar. Dance with a guy. Ask him to come back to your place. Tell him what to do to you. Kick him out before you go to bed. The end.”
Willa’s stomach dropped at the idea of it.
She didn’t love the idea of having sex with a total stranger and kicking them to the curb. Shouldn’t there be an inherent trust with a sexual partner, even if there’s nothing long-term there?
Then again, she’d trusted Leo, and look where that landed her.
Maybe she could just go the friends-with-benefits route. Have casual sex with someone she knew and trusted, but stick to her plan of staying away from men. Shawn popped into her head for a brief moment. She felt heat creep up her cheeks as she allowed herself to imagine it, but almost instantly threw the idea away. There was no way she could casually sleep with Ida’s grandson and then face her every morning for their walk.
“I can hear you overthinking this,” Charlie said.
“Okay. Ugh. I’ll figure it out.”
“Yes, you will. Now I have to run to work, but text me later, okay?”
They hung up and Willa walked over to Ida’s. She knocked on the door, but nobody answered. She tried again, but again no answer. She pulled out her phone to check the time—it was five minutes after their usual walking time. Ida was not usually late, but maybe something came up today that she’d forgotten to tell Willa about.
“You looking for Grams?”
She jumped, dropping her phone as a voice startled her out of her confusion. She knew before turning around that it would be Shawn, but she didn’t expect him to be shirtless and sweaty.
Again.
She could feel her face turning red, and her gaze fell to his abs.
Fuck, a man had never affected her like this before—not even Leo. Hot men were a dime a dozen in San Francisco, especially in the yoga community. And she looked her fill. But never had she had such a volcanic reaction to someone just by looking at them. The way his brown eyes pierced hers made her feel like she would melt into a puddle, and she had the sudden urge to lick the sweat off his neck.
“Willa? You okay?”
Was that the first time he’d ever said her name? Or would it always sound like the first time, the way he said it? The way his husky, deep voice hit her had Willa clenching her thighs.
God, she was horny.
She cleared her throat and tried to pull herself out of the sex spiral she was falling into.
“We usually walk at 10,” she told him.
Willa checked her phone again. It was 10:07 a.m. Shawn’s brow furrowed in concern, and she wanted to run her index finger along his forehead and smooth it over.
“I’m sure she just forgot,” Willa offered.
“No, she didn’t,” Shawn said, moving past her and opening the front door slowly. “She was about to go get dressed for your walk when I left for my run.”
Willa tentatively followed him inside.
“Grams?” Shawn said. Then louder, “GRAMS?”
Willa heard a small whimper down the hall, and Shawn booked it toward where the sound came from. She followed behind him, and when she entered what she assumed was Ida’s room, she saw her laying uncomfortably on the floor. She was dressed in her regular walking attire—joggers and a t-shirt—and one sock was half on.
“Grams,” Shawn whispered, his voice strained as he kneeled next to his grandmother. “What happened?”
“Fell,” she said, her weak voice cracking Willa’s heart. “Lost my balance putting my socks on. Stupid.”
“Let me help,” Willa said, kneeling on the other side of her. She pushed Ida’s hair out of her face and rearranged her limbs, which were skewed uncomfortably about her. “I was worried you stood me up.”
Willa smiled weakly at her, hoping her attempt to lighten the mood wasn’t poorly received. She was rewarded with a smirk and a wink from Ida.
“I’d never forget about our walks, hon,” she said thinly.
Shawn left the room briefly and came back, tugging a shirt over his head.
“Grams, I’m going to pick you up and put you in bed,” Shawn said, his eyes never leaving Willa.
“Alright, Scooby.”
Before Willa could process the odd nickname, Shawn effortlessly picked up Grams and gently—so gently, it made her want to cry—set her in her bed. Willa grabbed an extra pillow from her bed and put it under her feet before draping a blanket over her.
“Do you want me to get you some water? Tea?” Willa asked, desperate to help Ida feel better.
“Shawn can get me some tea,” Ida responded. “He knows how I like it. You can sit here and tell me how your yoga class went last night.”
Willa held Shawn’s gaze for a split second before he nodded and left the room. She grabbed an armchair from the corner and brought it to the edge of Ida’s bed before sitting down and launching into how yet again, her class was not well-attended.
She told Ida about her plan to make a flier and try to work with the staff to better market her class, and then she dove into her plans for the sunrise class on Saturday. Ida, ever the patient listener, asked a few clarifying questions, but mostly let Willa speak uninterrupted. And Willa, hoping to take her mind off whatever pain she might be feeling, rambled for as long as she could.
“Well, honey, it sounds like you’ve thought this through,” Ida said.
“Thanks, Grams,” Willa said, before asking, “Are you in any pain? I can help you with some stretches that might make it better.
“What kind of stretches?” Ida asked, looking concerned.
“Nothing crazy,” Willa said with a smile. “But I used to teach a few yoga classes for seniors back in San Francisco. I even helped a few of them work through pain and stiffness after falls like yours. You can lay down the whole time.”
“Alright, then. Might as well try it.”
Willa stood up and gently pulled Ida’s legs forward, straightening them as much as she could. Then she folded them in and turned them to the right side, then the left side. She never pushed, and a few times she paused at the sound of a slight intake of breath from Ida. But Ida never told her to stop, so she repeated the motion over and over until Ida loosened up a bit more.
Then she folded the right leg, while keeping the left extended, and swapped them. Over and over she did these simple movements, trying to help loosen the stiffness in Ida’s body. After a few rounds of that, she pulled the folded right leg over, twisting the spine and intensifying the stretch, before doing it on the other side. Willa repeated these movements, hoping to provide additional mobility to Ida and help her work through residual pain.
“What’s going on here?”
Willa had just moved onto Ida’s upper body, circling her wrists and adding slight pressure to forearms, when Shawn walked in glaring at her. Still sweaty from his run, hair tousled, he was carrying a teapot and a saucer for Grams.
“Sheesh, Scoob, who peed in your cheerios?” Ida said. “She’s stretching me out, and it’s making my limbs feel looser than they have in years, so put that scowl away and bring me my tea.”
A muscle twitched in Shawn’s jaw as he approached his grandmother’s bed and set the tea on her bedside table.
“Are you sure you should be doing that?” Shawn asked, his glare only slightly softer as he looked at Willa.
God, she was going to get whiplash from him.
The way he stared at her with sweetness one minute and like a landlord evicting her from his house the next was enough to make her dizzy. Anger surged in her at the thought that he’d believe she would ever do something that would hurt Ida, but as she caught his eyes, she saw something beneath the cold glare: fear. She knew what it was like to love your grandparents dearly and worry about them constantly.
“I used to teach yoga for seniors,” Willa said, maintaining eye contact with him. “I know what I’m doing.”
With a tight nod, he turned around and left the room, leaving Willa both irritated and flustered.
“He worries about me,” Ida said, startling Willa out of her stupor. “It was hard for him when his grandfather died. Lord knows, I won’t be around forever, either. But Shawn will do everything in his power to make sure I’m around as long as I can be.”
Willa took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and continuing with the stretches.
“I understand. I would have done the same for my grandparents.”
“Oh sweetie,” Ida grabbed her hand. “They loved you. So much.”
“I know,” Willa said, her eyes burning.
If she’d known moving back to her family home would be this emotional, she might have avoided the hassle of it all. But then again, she was emotionally raw when she got here in the first place, so that wasn’t helping matters.
“You should probably be stretching every day, Grams,” Willa said, shoving aside thoughts of the grandparents she missed so much it ached. “I can help you when we get back from our walks every day.”
“If you say so, dear,” Ida said. “And you’re still coming with me to Bingo tomorrow night, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”