6. Anthony
Chapter 6
Anthony
I ’M NOT SAYING I’m disappointed that Darcy didn’t show up again today.
But…maybe I’m a little disappointed. I check the time. Reid’s texted me yet again about going to yoga, and even though I’m positive I’ll look like a complete and total ass, I figure, why the hell not.
Throwing on a pair of old shorts and a fitted tank—which Reid told me I’d want unless I wanted my shirt hanging in my face during some of the positions, which, frankly, almost made me second-guess the entire thing—I take off at a brisk walk. It’s probably ten minutes at the most, given that the studio is at one end of the pier and Hall’s Balls is at the other.
Reid’s waiting for me when I get there, his black cat Midnight strapped to his chest in a baby carrier or something. It’s absolutely ridiculous, but I’ve given him hell about it enough that it no longer fazes him. Not that it ever did. It makes sense, I suppose; the guy moved to town after working undercover with a Miami drug cartel for years. If the man wants to wear a cat because it brings him joy, who am I to tell him no? The dude has seen plenty in his lifetime.
He smiles broadly. “Wondered when I’d finally talk you into this. What changed your mind?”
“Figured it was the only way you were ever going to shut up about it,” I grin back.
He slaps my shoulder and gestures for me to go in ahead of him. “You’re right. We’ve got you set up with a mat next to us toward the back.”
I nod to the owner, Samantha, who gives me a warm smile in return.
“Anthony Hall! Never thought I’d see you here. First class is always free. Take it easy and I’ll make sure you don’t overdo it, okay?”
“Sure thing.” But how hard can yoga actually be? I work out. I run. This is bending and shit. Piece of cake.
Willa waves to me and I make my way toward her, nodding to Goldie and Matty as I go.
“You’re here,” Willa says, indicating the mat in front of her. “We would have put you beside one of us, but there’s no room.”
We say our hellos and I realize that not only has Reid let Midnight down to walk among the mats, but Matty’s dog, Killer, is also running around. “Is this allowed?” I ask, eyeing the little chihuahua as he saunters up to sniff at my feet.
“Mr. Hall, what a surprise.”
I look up and double-take, because there, in front of me, is Darcy. In a pair of fitted shorts that molds to her luscious ass and a top that bares most of her creamy stomach. The shorts nip in at her flesh, and I fight to hold back the groan that begs for release. “Anthony,” I grit out, my name the only thing I trust myself to say right this moment.
She brightens. “No, I’m Darcy. You’re Anthony.” Her saucy grin tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing.
Brat. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say it again, but I keep it to myself. “You…do yoga?”
“Starting to. I’ve never seen you here, though—how long have you done it?”
“First time.”
Reid joins us, slapping me on the back yet again. “I’ve been trying to get Grumpy Gus here for months. I finally wore him down.”
Darcy snorts as Samantha calls the class to order, and as I look around to figure out what I’m supposed to do, she leans over from the mat beside me. “Just go slow. Don’t force anything, and feel free to watch me if you need to see how to get into position.”
It’s impressive, the way she can say sentences like that without blushing. I nod once, determined not to look at Darcy at all if I can help it, and turn my attention back to Samantha.
Exactly five minutes later, I’m mentally cursing Reid. Because this is absolute torture. I am not limber by any stretch of the imagination, and it turns out that yoga requires a shitload of that.
I can do this. I will do this. I won’t be beaten by something as easy as yoga.
Ten minutes later, I’ve changed my tune. Samantha’s voice is probably meant to be soothing as she says, “And fold up, arms swinging high overhead, exhale as you lower your arms to your side. Good. Now turn your entire body so that your feet are facing the wall on the right, then spread your legs wide, hands on your hips. Inhale. On that exhale, bend over at the waist, keeping your spine straight as you lower the top of your head to the floor.”
Lower the top of my head to the floor ? She’s got to be fucking kidding. But I turn into position anyway and immediately groan. Because in front of me is Darcy’s gorgeous butt, right at eye level as I attempt to keep my spine straight.
“Bend a little more, Mr. Hall,” Darcy teases in a low voice.
I startle, then realize that she’s looking at me from between her legs as she rests the top of her head on the floor, smirking. She definitely caught me looking where I shouldn’t.
Fuck. Me.
I did not need to know how flexible Darcy is.
Ever.
Does she look a little crazed, the way she’s giving this maniacal grin at me, blood rushing into her face? Yes. But also: her ass and thighs are right. Fucking. There.
I’m a pervert.
My cheeks blaze as I avert my eyes and try to do more than look like an overgrown baboon, but it’s pretty bad.
I spend the entire ninety minutes in a state of tortured panic. Torture because yoga is, it turns out, hard as fuck, and panicked because Darcy herself is hot as fuck.
It’s not a great combination for me right now. I’m fully aware that everyone is here for their mental and physical health. They most definitely are not here to be leered at. But try telling that to my eyes, who can’t stop glancing at Darcy and imagining whether any of these yoga positions can be converted into sex positions.
I know. I’m a terrible human being.
When class ends, I’m a sweaty, sore, mentally fucked in the head mess. I beeline for the front, my rolled-up mat in my hands to give to Samantha as I shove my feet back into my sneakers.
“What did you think?” she asks, her voice chipper and a little too interested.
“He did great,” Reid says. “Didn’t he, Willa?”
Willa nods enthusiastically. “Way better than the first time I came, Anthony. You should have seen me. I couldn’t even touch my toes—and you were killing those one-legged balance poses!”
Uh-huh. Whatever. All I do is nod and jerk my thumb to the outside. “See you out there.” I need out of here. Away from yoga, and definitely away from Darcy and that tight, royal-blue outfit she’s wearing.
I gulp in the salty air, never more grateful for the ocean breeze than I am right now. Behind me, people stream out in a chorus of goodbyes, and of course, my ears strain to hear the one woman’s voice I’m desperate for.
“Not bad, Mr. Hall,” comes that teasing lilt from my left.
I turn. “It was terrible.”
She laughs, the sound unburdened and damn near joyful. “You’re right. You were really bad. Comically so. It’s sweet of your friends to try to make you feel better, though.” She hikes her mat under her arm and glances back to where Goldie and Willa are chatting while Matty and Reid gather their animals and nestle them into matching carriers against their chests.
I swear, those two are something else.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Darcy tosses me a sweet smile, then steps away as the couples turn toward me.
Stay. The thought rises, unbidden and unwanted. I clear my throat but find I’m unable to say anything in response. All I can do is watch her sashay to her car, her body a fucking siren that will surely lead me to trouble if I choose to follow.
“Wanna walk the pier with us?”
I turn my attention to Matty and give him a short, “No.”
They all laugh. “Told you he’d refuse,” Goldie says, but her expression is kind. “It’s a miracle you got Anthony to yoga. Take the win, guys.”
She’s right, but I don’t bother speaking.
“Think you’ll come back?” Reid asks. “Saw you talking to Darcy.”
“Probably not,” I answer, then start backing away, desperate to keep any conversation about Darcy from happening.
Matty comes to my rescue. “Leave the man alone, Officer Reid. You’re a menace and a gossip of the highest order, and you know it.”
“He’s worse than Ox,” I chime in, “and my brother used to be the biggest gossip in this entire town.”
“No one beats Tom and Jerry,” Willa says with a shake of her head. “Those two get all the hot gossip and feed it to Reid here. It’s a vicious cycle.”
I don’t bother telling them that I probably know more than all of them combined. Bartenders hear far more than most people intend for them to, especially when alcohol loosens their tongues.
I turn away, letting my silence communicate everything it needs. They know I’m leaving, and they all know I’m not going to make a big fuss over it.
Back at the building, I still have hours to go before the place opens for the shortened Sunday hours. I feel…itchy. But I can’t go for a run or work out; I’ve done plenty of that with yoga in the last hour. Only one other place that can cure me when I feel like this.
A short drive later, I’m making my way along through the overgrown path that leads to a secluded part of the beach. It’s still on public property, but it’s situated between two private sections so perfectly that most people don’t realize it’s here. And that’s precisely why I love it: no people. I can swim or sit and contemplate the ocean without being bothered.
As I crest the small dunes and break through the grass, my feet sink instantly into the sugary white sand. I already feel better. With a deep breath, I start the short trek to my favorite spot on this stretch of beach and immediately see that someone is there.
I halt, then shake my head. This must be a cosmic joke. Because that someone is Darcy.