FIFTEEN
“Keepthosepalmstogether as you take a deep breath in.”
My deep breath felt like an anchor dropping at port as I followed the soothing drone of the woman on the television, walking me through day one of yoga. After last night’s madness and waking up alone again, I’d been restless all day. An hour of mindless browsing on my laptop brought me to a popular yoga instructor on YouTube.
I’d already breezed through fifteen minutes of the half-hour recording, but in reality, I’d done very little. Her instructions were interrupted by snippets of my conversation with Sully. Last night I’d possibly made the dumbest decision of my life—to continue working with someone I knew killed people for a living. Worse yet, to be an accomplice to it.
After Sully had left me, I’d spent hours staring up at the ceiling, coming to terms with what I was committing myself to. And although I hadn’t been able to get the vision of the man’s brain shattering under the impact of a bullet Sully had put there out of my mind, I knew I couldn’t walk away from what was happening between us. It was still too new and full of so much promise, even with the little time we’d spent together.
I understood he needed time to figure out his feelings for me, but for now, it was enough just knowing he’d acknowledged he had feelings for me.
“… you want to inhale and exhale, lifting your hips…”
“Shit.” I scrambled to my knees, missing yet another prompt from the instructor.
“I don’t think you’re doing that quite right.”
I startled and twisted around to Sully, who stood in the doorway with an amused expression on his face. The already awkward position didn’t work well with my sudden movement, and I tumbled to the floor on my side in an ungraceful heap.
“I thought cats were supposed to land on their feet.”
I scrambled to my feet and tugged down my tank top. “Keep criticizing me, and I’ll scratch you.”
He slowly walked toward me. “So you’re a scratcher?”
He kept moving until his front was pressed to mine.
“And a biter too,” I gasped.
“Hmm.” He lowered his head, but instead of kissing me like I’d hoped he would, he nuzzled my neck, sniffing me. “You smell sweaty.”
I pushed away from him and propped my hands on my hips. “How about ‘good morning, Kit, how did you sleep last night after everything that happened?’”
His playful countenance changed into a frown. “You didn’t sleep well?”
Ugh, I preferred his smile and teasing. I should never have brought up last night.
“Not exactly. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened.”
“I should’ve stayed with you.” He cupped the side of my face and tilted it, inspecting me. “You have circles under your eyes.”
I brushed away his hand. “Nothing a little makeup can’t fix.”
His frown remained. “Are you sure?”
I didn’t have to ask what he meant. Not after our conversation last night.
“Positive.” I moved away from him and paused the woman on the television who had done nothing at all to relax me. “What are you doing here? I usually see Liam more than I do you.”
“Liam and I had an argument.”
“About what?”
“You.”
“Me?” I squeaked.
“Yes. I believe he thought he could have you.” His face turned hard. “He can’t have you. No one else can.”