Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Wow. Nice. Did this gorgeous man ask for your number?”
I shake my head. “Wouldn’t give it to him if he did.”
Both of my roommates frown at me.
“We’ve only known each other for a few months, but I know you’re a heterosexual, and I know you’re not stupid. If someone who looks like Ryan Reynolds is flirting with you, why aren’t you taking off your panties and scribbling your phone number on the crotch?”
That question is from Ana, of course, and I’m really starting to wonder what goes on in the books she reads.
“You know I don’t date.”
“You don’t date because you don’t have time,” Marissa says. “You should make time for someone who’s that hot.”
My busy schedule is a convenient excuse for my complete lack of a social life. The truth is that I wouldn't want to date even if I had the time, and I have good reason, but I haven't wanted to burden my roommates with my sob story.
I flip the last sandwich and twist the knob to turn off the burners under the pan and the soup pot. “Luckily, he hasn’t asked me out, so it doesn’t matter.”
“What time is the class he attends?” Ana asks.
“Five-thirty.”
Ana sets a stack of three bowls on the counter. “Oh, shit. In the morning?”
“Yep.”
“Well, that sucks … but a woman has to do what a woman has to do, right, Marissa?”
My eyes narrow at Ana. “What are you talking about?”
“Marissa and I are coming to your class tomorrow morning.”
“We are?”
“Yeah, we have to check this guy out—and be good wingwomen for our girl here. Give this guy a little kick in the basketball shorts if he needs it.”
“Don’t you dare. I don’t want to go out with him.” After flipping the last sandwich out, I set the empty frying pan down on one of the cold burners with a clatter. “I need to make it clear to you how I feel about men, Ana. They’re not like the heroes you read about in books. In real life, men are—”
Just then, Marissa’s phone rings loudly, censoring the end of my sentence.
“Ooh, it’s Todd.” Marissa prepares to tap her screen to answer the incoming call as she heads out of the kitchen. “Go ahead and start eating without me.”
“I’ve been meaning to try yoga,” Ana says in a not-very-convincing tone as she hands me a bowl.
“You need to be a member at the club to attend the class.”
“I’m sure there are guest passes available, and who knows? I might want to sign up after I see all the men working up a sweat lifting weights. I’ll bet there are some pretty big beasts there.” Her eyes go distant. “Ah, yes, sounds like a great way to start my day tomorrow.”
I snort. “If you say so. Better get there early. My class is pretty popular all of a sudden.”
CHAPTER 6
CALLIE
Iwas hoping Ana was all talk, but both bathrooms in our condo are occupied when I head out the door with my early morning caffeine in hand, and shortly after I open the yoga studio to students, Marissa and Ana come strolling in, yoga mats under their arms.
“I let her borrow my spare mat,” Marissa explains.
Ana’s eyes immediately roam the room, but I save her the trouble. “He’s not here yet. He usually rolls in right before I start.”
“Pity,” she says. “Where should we set up?”
“Anywhere you’d like. People used to generally stick to the same spots, but as the class has grown this week, it’s a free for all.”
Ana nudges Marissa. “Let’s stay in the back. Might be easier to watch him from there.”
“You’re supposed to watch the instructor,” I tease, pointing to my chest, before turning to go back to my mat.
The room fills up quickly, and is as crowded as predicted. When Mr. Hot & Cold finally strolls in, he stops just a few feet inside the doorway, unsuccessfully looking around for an open space.
I go over to ask a few women to adjust their mats to help create a spot for him, and they happily do so, seemingly delighted that he’s going to be their neighbor. In response to my assistance, the man offers me one of his Stone Age grunts.
He’s in a snug army green tank top today, and his shoulders are a sight to behold. His pecs do an incredible job of making his shirt look like the best piece of clothing that was ever crafted.
But then there’s his scowl. Unlike Ana, I’m not a fan of a grumpy demeanor, though I do have to begrudgingly admit that if a frown looks good on anyone, it’s him.
On my way back to the front, I steal a glance at my roommates. Marissa’s eyes are still fixed on the man, while Ana’s fanning herself and mimicking wiping drool from her mouth. I never should have mentioned this guy to them.