“The heart always knows, Lucas. I met my David our sophomore year. We saw each other across the classroom. Once our eyes locked, we both knew.” She tells me through her set of ten.
“You don’t think I’m crazy?”
“Which is crazier? Spending years dating someone—never knowing deep within your soul they are the one, and marrying them anyway? Or letting the universe guide you—giving you nothing but profound instinct that you’ve been presented your other half?”
“Jeez, Mrs. Henderson. That’s pretty deep. I had no idea you were so spiritual.”
She shrugs and starts a second set of ten. “Your tips will take a hit, but it’s a small price for true love.” She gives me a knowing arch of her eyebrow.
“My tips?” I don’t doubt the women in the know swap stories, but I wouldn’t expect someone like Mrs. Henderson to take part in idle gossip.
“Sweetie. I might not be one of the prowling cougars of the fitness resort, but I am an active member, and I hear the women talk in the steam room. You were a popular choice from the beginning. Young, strong, handsome, reportedly virile—” she grins when my eyes pop wide, a slight blush hitting my cheeks “—and desperate to pay off your student loans and your sister’s tuition. Desperation is these people’s favorite smell after money. Hearts will break, but it’s okay. Their hearts aren’t worth protecting, anyway.”
“I think you ladies talk a lot more than us guys.”
“Oh, definitely. Women are scandalous—especially the women prowling around here.”
I walk her to the next machine, set her weight, and take a step back. “How hard do I hide my crazy on my date tonight?”
She starts her set and bites her lip. “I’d say be the guy you are with me. Sweet. Honest. Relaxed.”
A small smile spreads across my lips, and I nod in agreement. “Sweet. Honest. Relaxed. Got it.”
* * *
I pull up to Aila’s house a couple minutes early with a bouquet. Part of me wanted to bring a box of tacos and a bag of margaritas too, but I thought that was presumptuous and would downplay the wholethis isn’t a booty callvibe I’m trying to put out there.
She expects little of me, which pisses me off because I know it’s because of some dickhead before me. I can’t be jealous of her past, not when my manwhoring days aren’t that old. It’s been months since I closed up shop, realizing I would never be more than a boy-toy no matter how hard I tried to be more.
What can I say? I’m an idiot.
I never fell in love, but I tried to like and get to know them. The sex was decent, but after a while, sex without love becomes boring.
While I can’t be jealous of Aila’s past, I can be possessive of her future. She’s mine. I know it with every fiber of my being and will do whatever it takes to convince her we belong together.
Aila opens the door wearing a flirty knee-length skirt over a pair of argyle tights and short boots. Her lightweight sweater wraps across her torso, the neckline plunging deep between her full breasts—the entire ensemble making my mouth dry.
“Hi.” She smiles, her eyes taking me in from head to toe.
“You look beautiful.” My voice is raspy as I hand her the small bouquet. “Simply beautiful.”
She tilts her chin, her smile widening. “These are lovely, thank you. Come on in.”
Taking the flowers, she leads me into her house and up the stairs to where the kitchen, living room, and master bedroom most likely are. All split levels are the same—perfect for roommates or home offices, which I’m betting she has considering her clothing business. “I’m going to put these in water. Would you like a tour?”
“I would.” I lean my hip against the counter and watch as she pulls a vase out of a cabinet.
She arranges the flowers and brings them to her nose, inhaling deeply. “This is so sweet.”
I shrug. “I wanted to give you something that will make you think of me when I’m not here.”
“Leaving so soon?” She arches her brow and flashes me a teasing grin.
“I’ll stay as long as you let me.” I can’t stop myself from reaching out and brushing her hair off her shoulder to cup her face. Her cheek is warm and soft in my hand. Without words, she leans into my touch and tells me she feels this connection between us, too.
She slides her hand down my chest and steps forward to press her body against mine. “We should get this kiss out of the way, don’t you think?”
I suck in my breath. Her lilac scent—or maybe it’s lavender—rushes into my nostrils, making me a bit love drunk. Or maybe it’s her? It’s definitely her. “Something tells me if I kiss you, I’m not going to want to stop.”