Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
RILEY
I'm across from August again, like I was at Rowan's birthday dinner. After making August a little frazzled, I find myself smiling throughout the entire evening. I’m going to guess it was my ass that had him in a chokehold, and it boosts my confidence, which has been a bit low lately. It shows how much power I hold, and I hold a lot with this body I’ve worked hard on.
I'm not ashamed. I've given plenty of men boners just by standing in their presence.
My head is down, but I look up and through my lashes to see what August is doing. He’s acting shy after what happened, and it’s adorable. I may have said I felt a ‘prick’ when he ran into me, but it was more than that.
That quick bump into me told me all I needed to know. That I was right about what I think he’s packing down there. I cross my legs while I think about it and try to brush away the sensation.
I dip my fork into my pasta, the cheese stretching with every pull, the meat perfectly seasoned. When I take my second bite, a moan slips through my lips. It's just so good, I can't help it. Pasta holds a special place in my heart.
I stop chewing and look up from my plate. Rowan and Ellie are still eating, but August is looking at me like I've just asked him if I can give him a blowy.
“What?” I say with a mouthful.
He raises his brows and peers down at his plate, taking a bite of his food. “Nothing. I didn’t hear anything.”
Ignoring him, I look at Rowan. “This is so good. I need the recipe.”
Ellie laughs. “You don’t know how to cook.”
“I would attempt to cook this. It’s worth burning my eyebrows off.”
“And how do your eyebrows play into that?” Rowan asks.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Fire. Eyebrows.”
August snorts with a mouth full of his food. At least someone gets my humor.
“Anyone up for dessert?” Ellie asks.
“Um, yes, please,” I say. “Give me the whole pan.”
“If I do that, you’ll yell at me for letting you eat the whole thing.” Ellie gets up from the table, taking our plates. “You’ll complain about your stomach hurting the entire time, and I’m not dealing with that.”
“Let me help you, honey,” Rowan says.
August lets out a full belly sigh and pats his stomach. “That was incredible.”
He tips back his chair, stretching his arms above his head, letting out a satisfying groan as he continues to stretch his neck and back. The sound of bones cracking makes me wonder if he stresses every day.
I purse my lips. "I think it’s time for me to take you up on your bet."
He lowers his arms while looking at me with a puzzled look before a lightbulb goes off in his head. “The yoga class.”
I nod. “The yoga class.”
Tipping his chair back down, he rests his arms on the table, steepling his fingers under his chin. “You have a class picked out?”
“I sure do. You’re gonna love it. Do you have everything you need?”
"I can steal Ellie's yoga mat." He nods his head in Ellie’s direction. "I know she has one that's just sitting collecting dust.”
“Good.”
His body perks up, and he looks at me with skepticism. “You’re awfully cheerful for this. Am I missing something?”
Shaking my head, I say, “Nope.”
But I am. Not only because the class I’ve chosen for him will destroy him and I’ll win my bet, but because I think this is what he needs to do to combat his stress.
Before our friendship turned into something different, not being close and all, I’ve always begged him to take a class with me. And he’d always have an excuse as to why he couldn’t do it.
I have work. I’m hanging out with the guys. I’m hanging out with my parents. I don’t want to sit in silence while my head doesn’t shut up.
Fine. All fair points, I guess, but why is he agreeing now? Better yet, why did he offer? I know it’s not because of the cliff jumping ordeal. He could have made any other bet but specifically chose to take one of my classes.
Everything must be getting to him. Maybe this is a last resort, hoping that something I love doing and teaching will help him in the long run. Maybe the class will want to make him come back again and again.
I wouldn’t mind. I love bringing yoga into people’s lives. It’s helped me, grounds me when I need it most. I haven’t asked him much about his dad. How do I bring it up? It can’t come out of the blue, or when he’s overwhelmed, or sad, or angry.
Asking Ellie is easier than asking August without any emotional attachment.
August places his chin in his palm. “I’ve always wanted to see you do your yoga poses.” He wiggles his eyebrows with amusement.
He always makes these flirtatious comments, and I try to not play into them, especially now that our friendship seems like it’s blossoming again. As much as I love that, we can’t get close to each other again. I’ve already let him down once.
We lock gazes, and I start to get lost in him before I snap out of it and pull myself together.
"Go over there," I gesture toward the couch in the living room. "Looking at you is giving me a headache."
"Whatever you say, sunshine."