Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
noia
The drive to Portland takes just under an hour, most of which I spend staring through the windshield, my mind replaying every interaction with Ryder since I found him standing half naked in my kitchen.
Before I know it, I’m pulling into the underground garage, parking my SUV next to Sasha’s Mazda in the extra parking spot.
Her apartment building is one of those sleek and shiny modern high-rises housing condos with floor-to-ceiling windows.
I grab my overnight bag from the back seat with a sigh and follow Sasha into the lobby. A doorman nods as we pass, and she leads us into the elevator, pressing the button for the twentieth floor.
“Do you think I’m doing the right thing,” I groan, leaning against the wall. “Am I a coward?”
“Fuck no,” Sasha says firmly. “Sometimes you just need to distance yourself to help figure shit out. Besides, it’s only for a couple of days.”
The elevator doors slide open, and we step into a hallway. Her condo is a corner unit at the end of the hall.
When she unlocks the door and ushers me inside, I’m hit with the familiar scent of coconut and cedar.
“Home sweet home,” she announces, tossing her keys into a ceramic bowl by the door. “Make yourself comfortable. You know where the guest room is.”
I drop my bag next to the couch and wander over to the windows. The view of Portland’s downtown skyline from up here never ceases to amaze.
“Thanks for letting me come hang out.” I look over my shoulder and give her a small smile. “I just needed some time to... breathe.”
“I get it.” She flops onto her couch. “That man is intense. In the best possible way, but still.”
“You have no idea.” I collapse next to her. “Every time I’m around him, it’s like I can’t seem to think straight. I feel like I’m losing control.”
“You’re scared.”
“Yeah. But I’m more apprehensive than anything. I’m used to controlling the narrative. But with Ryder...” I trail off, searching for the right words.
“He’s writing his own.”
“Something like that.”
“Don’t worry.” She pats my knee. “This will all work itself out. In a couple of days I have no doubt you’ll think of a way to move forward with whatever’s going on between you two.”
Sasha pushes herself up from the couch. “I think this calls for some wine. Stay right there.”
I sink deeper into the cushions, listening as she rummages through cabinets in the kitchen, returning a couple of minutes later with two glasses and an open bottle of merlot.
“Here.” She pours a generous amount into the glass and hands it over. “A little liquid strength.”
I take a long sip, savoring the rich flavors as they burst over my tongue. “Thanks. I didn’t realize how much I needed this until now.”
Sasha sits beside me, tucking her legs underneath her. “So, I’ve been thinking about something, and this weekend kind of cemented it for me.”
“What’s that?” I ask, watching the wine swirl in my glass.
“I’m considering opening a Summit Studio in Lakeside.”
My heart skips with excitement, and I flick my gaze up to meet hers. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes light up. “The market there is completely untapped. No dedicated yoga studio and just the one small gym. I fell in love with the town.”
“That would be amazing!” A surge of joy hits me at the prospect of having Sasha close by.
“There’s more.” She takes another long sip. “I’m thinking I might even move there… permanently.”
“What?” I sit up straight, nearly spilling my wine. “Are you being serious right now?”
She nods, grinning. “I’ve been feeling stuck here in Portland for a while now. Too many people, too much noise. This weekend reminded me of how much I love small-town vibes. There’s a vacant storefront right on Main Street next to Rise and Dine that I know would be perfect.”
“Sash, that would be incredible! We’d only be twenty minutes from each other!”
“Exactly.” She nods. “I could come over for dinner, and we could go back to having wine and movie nights.”
“And you could crash at my place like you used to in college,” I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in days. “When are you thinking?”
“I’m going to be talking with a realtor next week about the space. If it works out, I could be operational within the next six months.” She refills our glasses. “What do you think? Would I be cramping your style if I moved to your little hideaway town?”
“Are you kidding? Having my best friend close again would be the best thing ever.”
“I just need to find a place to live, and I’ll be set. But I’ll worry about that later.”
As much as I would love Sasha to stay with me, I know she prefers having her own space, so I don’t offer. I’m just glad she’ll be close to me again.
I clink my glass against hers. “To new beginnings.”
“To new beginnings,” she echoes, taking a drink.
We sit in comfortable silence for a bit before I bring up another important subject. “So... speaking of new beginnings. What are you going to do about Jax?”
Sasha coughs. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on. You two hooked up! We both know you don’t like commitment, and it’s a small town. The space you’re talking about is literally across the street from Skin & Ink Tattoo, so you’re going to run into him. A lot.”
Sasha’s cheeks flush. “It’s not like that. I hooked up with him, sure, but it was just one night. I’m a grown woman who can handle running into a man I slept with.”
“In an alley,” I add helpfully.
“Yes, in an alley, thank you for the reminder,” she snorts, rolling her eyes. “Look, Jax is hot and a fantastic fuck. But I’m not looking for anything serious, and I’m sure he isn’t either.”
“You don’t know that,” I counter, back to swirling my wine.
“Oh, god,” she groans. “Please don’t start matchmaking. Besides, if I do move to Lakeside, I’ll be focused on getting the studio up and running. That’s it.”
I decide to let it drop for now, but the wheels in my head are already turning. Jax and Sasha had obvious chemistry, and I can’t help but think there’s something more to it.
“Fine,” I concede.
“Let’s talk about what you’re going to do about your slow-burn sitch.”
I groan and sink deeper into the couch. “I don’t know. Part of me wants to just give in and beg him to fuck me senseless again. The other part is too stubborn to let him win.”
Sasha snorts. “Honey, you both win if you end up back in bed. Maybe it’s time to stop thinking about it as a competition.”
The next couple of days fly by. During the day, while Sasha’s running her fitness studio empire, I set up camp at her dining table with my laptop.
To my surprise, the words pour out. Maybe it’s the distance, or maybe it’s because I can finally think without Ryder’s intoxicating presence clouding my judgment, but my characters are back to practically writing themselves.