Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
STEPHANIE
T he moment I get inside my apartment, I set Mr. Sniffles down, lean back against the door, and let out a swoony sigh a rom com heroine would be proud of.
“He likes me,” I say, a giddy grin splitting my face. “He likes me, and he’s an amazing kisser!”
My next sigh turns into a happy squeal, causing Mr. Sniffles to prop his paws on my knee and smack his lips repeatedly, clearly stressed out by my adolescent display of emotion.
But I can’t help it.
Tank makes me feel like I’m sixteen again, back when a kiss was enough to make my head spin, and romance was something I took for granted would be a part of my future. Maybe not before I graduated high school, but as a teen, I was positive that soon—maybe even very soon—I would have a knee-weakening love just like in the movies.
Just like my parents had.
Instead, I’ve learned that most men my age have no time for romance, little interest in investing in anything except their 401ks, and that all my mom’s warnings about guys wanting “just one thing” were truer than I ever wanted to imagine. And, adding insult to injury, the past few years have made it clear that I’m apparently a narcissist magnet, a gullible mark who can’t tell the difference between love-bombing and someone who actually cares about me.
“But Tank isn’t a narcissist,” I tell Mr. Sniffles, running a soothing hand over his back. “He’s too grouchy.”
My pug shakes his head with a huff.
“No, I know he’s not,” I assure him. “Narcissists are nice at first, then get controlling and gaslight-y later on. Tank is just shy in a grouchy way before he feels safe opening up.”
Mr. Sniffles rolls his bulbous eyes.
“He is,” I insist. “The grouchy act is a cover for when he feels insecure or unsafe. But deep down, he’s a thoughtful sweetheart who bought you your very own helmet, just so he could drive us home, and opened up in a very vulnerable way about his past.”
My pup still seems unconvinced, so I remind him, “And he bought us tacos.”
He snorts softly, admitting I have a point there, and waddles toward his water bowl in the kitchen while I kick off my shoes and go back to thinking about the kiss.
The kiss…
My stomach flutters again. The way his hand cradled my face, so careful, so gentle, even though he could probably vaporize an apple with a squeeze of his fist. The way kissing him felt just like our conversations—easy and electric, familiar and thrilling, all at the same time.
The way we both lingered after, clearly wanting more time, more connection, and not just in the physical way.
It was the best date I’ve had in years, and I’m already certain I want more. A lot more. Heck, I could see a future where Tank is the person I come home to someday. But is he the kind of guy who dates with an eye to more?
It might feel like I’ve known him for a long time, but the reality is that we’re still strangers in a lot of ways, and that’s something only time will change.
Time or some reconnaissance with a good friend who happens to know both of us very well…
I shouldn’t snoop. I really shouldn’t.
I should take a shower, brush my teeth, and head to bed.
Instead, I open my messages, scroll to Bree’s name and type?—
I know you’re in another time zone right now and probably already asleep, but I might have kissed Tank. And it might have been INCREDIBLE. And I might be imagining what our babies will look like and need to be talked down from the edge.
So…any thoughts about that that you’d like to share with the class?
I stare at the message for a moment before hitting send.
Bree will know I’m joking about the babies thing.
Because I am joking about it.
Mostly…
I’m fully expecting not to hear from my early-to-bed bestie until tomorrow, but to my delight, my phone buzzes almost immediately.
From the texts of Sabrina “Bree” Marks
and Stephanie Love
Bree:OMG WHAT?! Details please. ALL of them. I need every last one! How did you even run into him again? At a bar or something? Training camp doesn’t start for a while, right?
Stephanie:He’s actually been taking yoga classes at the studio. To help lower his blood pressure.
Bree: Well, well… Lower his blood pressure, huh? I doubt MAKING OUT WITH HIS TEACHER is going to help with that. And since when do you date students? This is so not like you!
Stephanie: Hey! You’re supposed to be telling me that we’ll be perfect and adorable together. And that I have no reason to worry about him having commitment issues. Not making me feel like a predator.
Bree: Of course, you’re not a predator! Don’t be silly. You’re lovely and kind and the sweetest person I know. I’m sorry, I was just surprised. You’ve always been so insistent about not crossing that line with a student. But you’re both adults—especially Tank. He’s like a cranky old World War II vet trapped in a young man’s body. If he went for a kiss, I’m sure he was well aware of what he was doing and no improper lines have been crossed.
Stephanie: Actually, I went in for the kiss. But he set the stage for it. He heard my car was in the shop and showed up tonight with a sidecar on his Harley so he could drive Mr. Sniffles and me home. He even bought a helmet ahead of time for Mr. Sniffles and everything.
Bree: Oh, wow! That’s so…sweet. I didn’t know Tank had “sweet” in him.
Stephanie: Oh, no. Is he usually a jerk with women? Am I getting love bombed again just when I told Mr. Sniffles that I wasn’t?
Bree: NO! No, no, not at all. I just… Hold on, let me talk to Shane for a second. He knows Tank better than I do, and he’s dying to know what I’m gasping about. Two seconds.
Stephanie: Okay. Thank you. And please, tell him to be honest. It’s not too late for Tank and I to go back to being friends, if that’s the smartest play. I just got Drake the Dreadful out of my life. I don’t need another dramatic situationship right now.
Bree: All right. Shane has weighed in. He is VERY excited about this news! And he thinks you two could be a perfect “opposites are amazing together” fit.
But he does have some concerns…
Stephanie: Uh-oh.
Bree: No, not uh-oh! Just…proceed with care and awareness. Apparently, Tank had a rough childhood, then went through a tragic breakup, and has been pretty closed off to relationships ever since. Then his sister died in a car crash, which was obviously another major blow. And he’s spent a lot of time punishing himself for the mistakes he made in the past and getting kicked out of the NHL the first time. So, yeah… His heart has been roughed up a little. But that doesn’t mean it’s not a good heart.
Stephanie: Poor guy. I knew about some of that, but not all of it.
Bree: Wow. You did? Well, that’s a promising sign. If he’s opening up to you, even a little bit, that’s a big deal. Tank doesn’t open up. Being cranky and closed off is basically two-thirds of his personality. The other third is going hard and never giving up, even when the cards are stacked against him.
Stephanie: I don’t know. I think the cranky part is just a front. I think he might actually be one-third man who wants to be loved, but is scared to be hurt again, and two-thirds force to be reckoned with. Or maybe even fifty-fifty between the two. In just a week, he’s surprised me a lot. In a good way.
Bree: *wide eyed emoji* So, you’re REALLY imagining babies after a week and one kiss?!
Stephanie: NO NOT REALLY! That was just to get your attention, but I like him. I really like him. It already feels like more than a crush.
But you’re right, I’m supposed to be lowering his blood pressure and helping him prepare for his big comeback, not trying to make him my boyfriend. This is probably unethical, even if we are both fully grown.
Bree:Technically, yes, there’s a power imbalance, I guess. But it’s not like you’re his therapist or his doctor. You’re his yoga teacher. It’s different. Worst-case scenario, if things get complicated, he can always switch to another yoga studio.
Stephanie: But I don’t want him to switch! I want to help him. I think I already HAVE helped him. And maybe that’s more important than kissing?
Bree: I don’t know. Kissing is pretty important. And it already sounds like it’s more than kissing. I mean, Shane is very romantic, but he never bought my pug a helmet just so he could drive me home.
Stephanie: Yeah. It kind of blew me away. He tried to play it off as no big deal, but it WAS a big deal, right?
Bree: Damned straight, it was. And I think it shows he’s interested in more than just kissing, too. You should just talk to him. See if you guys are on the same page.
Stephanie:You’re right. We have a private session on Sunday. I’ll ask if I can take him out for a smoothie or something after so we can chat. And I’ll leave Mr. Sniffles at home for the afternoon so he can’t fart on us again.
Bree: *laughing crying emoji* Oh my God, Mr. Sniffles. He didn’t!
Stephanie: He did. Right when the kissing was getting steamy. And it smelled like rotten tuna puked up from the bowels of hell.
Bree: *laughing crying emoji* *explosion emoji* Why is he pussy-blocking you like that?
Stephanie: I don’t know. I was blaming the rotten bok choy he ate from the compost, but it could be deliberate. Though he seems to dig Tank so far. He actually goes over and lies down next to him on his mat during savasana. It’s so cute.
Bree: Aw, that’s adorable. He can probably tell that Tank needs puppy love. And maybe Stephanie love, too…
Stephanie:Maybe. Thanks for the chat, darlin. And have a great time during your visit to KC. Eat some vegan barbeque for me.
Bree:I will do no such thing. It’s all ribs and chicken wings up in here. But I am bringing you back some BBQ sauce. I already have it stashed in my suitcase.
Stephanie: You’re the best. Love you.
Bree:Love you too! Keep me updated. Shane and I are both rooting for you guys.
Setting my phone aside, I lean back against the couch cushions, processing.
Maybe Bree’s revelations about Tank’s past should give me pause, but they don’t. It’s been obvious since day one that he’s a complicated man, with a lot going on under the surface and his fair share of baggage.
But we all have baggage. It isn’t the baggage that matters, it’s how we deal with it, and so far, Tank seems to be rising to the challenge of slaying his dragons.
It’s impressive.
And attractive.
And sexy…
I already suspect I could lose my heart to this man, but is that really what I’m looking for right now? Like I was telling Bree, I just ended things with the last complicated man I dated. Shouldn’t I take a time out to rest and regroup before getting involved with another?
Mr. Sniffles waddles over, collapsing with a dramatic groan at my feet.
“You’re right, the timing isn’t ideal,” I say, rubbing my bare toes into his scruff. “But you know what Yogi Shri always said in training—when you’re ready to learn, the universe will provide the teacher. Maybe Tank has something to teach me.” I nibble my lip. “Maybe we have something to teach each other…”
No sooner have the words left my lips than my phone buzzes again. I glance down to see Tank’s name and a hope butterfly takes wing in my chest.
Tank:Hey. Just wanted to let you know that I made it home safe. And to thank you for a great night. Sleep well, and see you on Sunday.
It’s simple, direct—just like him—but enough to send another giddy grin creeping across my face.
Me:You, too. Maybe we can grab a smoothie or a coffee or something after your lesson? I can leave Mr. Sniffles at home for a couple hours so we can talk without fearing another toxic airborne event.
Tank:Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll be looking forward to it.
Me: Me too.
I press my phone to my chest with a happy sigh.
This feels right. Whatever this is, wherever it’s going, I want to see it through, to learn whatever lessons this connection has to teach me.
As I finally make my way to the shower, I find myself humming under the spray, a lightness in my heart that hasn’t been there in longer than I care to admit. Falling for a grumpy hockey player with a troubled past wasn’t on my vision board for this year.
But then, the universe has a funny way of giving us what we need, even when we don’t know we need it.