Frenemy Fix-Up, page 18
I meet his dark chocolate gaze. “I’m on a tight schedule today. Let me pass so I can get ready.” Again, I try to leave, but he blocks my path.
“Surely we have a few minutes to talk?”
Inhaling sharply, I push on. “I’m sorry. I don’t.” This time, he steps aside allowing me to leave the office. Just because he’s finally ready to talk about whatever is going on with him doesn’t mean I have to drop everything. I have a business to run. The business that will still be around, even after Colin and I are over.
Five minutes later, when I emerge from the locker room, I’m still annoyed. My locs are in a ponytail, and this time I don’t give a rat’s ass what he thinks of what I’m wearing. I put on my most comfortable outfit—a medium-impact sports bra that reveals much of my back and high-waisted leggings that show off my ass. The leggings have a stocking effect that make me look snatched.
When I arrive at the private yoga room, Colin has already set out our mats, dimmed the lights and put on my favorite mood music. His attempt to win brownie points falls flat.
His disappearing act hurt. I’m going to make him suffer today, push him out of his comfort zone with harder poses.
I clap my hands. “Let’s get started.”
* * *
“I can’t, Shay,” Colin responds when I ask him to push up to bow pose several minutes later.
“Yes, you can. Just relax and give in to the movement. This will help increase your back mobility and strengthen your abdominal muscles.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not bent like a pretzel.”
“Ha ha,” I say without humor. “I’m doing the pose same as you.”
He glances over at me and, in doing so, loses his concentration and collapses to the floor.
“Are you all right?”
“Is today some kind of torture routine?” Colin sits up and reaches for his towel to wipe the sweat off his face.
Something like that.
I’ve had him try some pretty challenging poses, such as praying mantis, anantasana, which has him lying on his side with one leg perpendicular, raised to the sky, the embryo pose, and karnapidasana, a plow pose with the knees covering the ears.
“I’ve gone way too easy on you. It’s time we kick the level up a notch,” I respond. “This next one is bhujapidasana. You’re going to use your arms to balance yourself like this.” I demonstrate the pose.
“You’re crazy. No way can I do that,” Colin balks.
Moving from my mat, I come toward him. “Yes, you can. Get into a low squat position with your feet slightly less than shoulder-width apart. Keep your knees wide.”
When he’s able to do that, I give him another step. “Now fold yourself until your torso is between your inner thighs. Place your hands inside your feet with your elbows touching the inside of your knees.”
Colin manages this.
“Now snuggle your biceps underneath your thighs and place your hands flat on the ground on the outsides of your feet. Make sure the heels of your hands align with your feet.” He’s still trying and not complaining anymore so I push him further.
“Press your upper left arm and shoulder under the left thigh and leave your left hand flat on the floor. Now do the same on the right side.” When he places his right hand flat on the floor, I know he’s got this despite his protests to the contrary. “All right, now for the fun part. Engage your upper arms to maintain your balance.”
I want to cry when I see him doing it. After all these months, he’s able to do an advanced yoga pose.
“Squeeze your knees in toward your center. That’s right,” I encourage him. “Do you feel your upper back beginning to round?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good. Place your weight on your hands, lean back, and lift your feet off the floor.”
Colin does it! He’s literally got his body weight up in the air while holding himself up by his bulging biceps, which at the moment are shaking. “Okay, I want you to stay here and breathe deeply for thirty seconds or for as long as you feel comfortable.”
Lightly, I touch his shoulder. “Okay, release. One vertebra at a time.”
When it’s over, Colin falls back onto his mat. I bend down to look at him. “Great work—” But I don’t get to finish my sentence because he’s got me flat on my back on the mat.
“What the fuck was that, Shay?” His stormy eyes stare down at me. “Was that yoga or something else?”
I glare at him. “What else would it be?”
He jumps to his feet, about to leave, but he doesn’t. He goes to the door and locks it.
Click.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I push myself to a seated position.
“That’s what you call foreplay,” Colin replies. “Well, you have my attention, Shay.”
He yanks off his tank top and marches over to me. His determination, his intention is unmistakable. I start scooting back, but I’m not fast enough. He reaches for my legs and pulls me to him. I’m weak when it comes to this man. Colin leans forward, his face so close to mine that I grab both sides of it and kiss him. He’s surprised, but not for long. He takes ownership by kissing me hard and possessively.
His mouth leaves my lips, and I gasp for air, but that’s just the start. He makes his way down my cheeks, my jaw and lower until he reaches my bra. He hauls it off without missing a beat, and then his hands wrench off my leggings. I want this, so much. All the worry and love I’ve been feeling since the wedding wells up inside me, desperate to be expressed.
The rasp of his beard tickles my inner thighs, then he’s lifting my legs over his shoulders so his head is cradled between my thighs.
“Ah!” I moan when his hot, wet tongue laves my clit. He pleasures me until my cries ring out in the studio. Only then does he lift off me, but only so he can strip out of his clothes and don a condom on his straining dick.
This is crazy.
We’re in my studio of all places, but I can’t think straight. He returns to me, kneeling. With his hands on my calves, he scissors my legs, pushing one right above my head while winding my other leg around his waist. I’m flexible, but I’ve never been in this position before. I’m open. It must be what he wants because he says, “I’m going deep, Shay, but you can handle it, right? Just like I handled those yoga poses.”
Then he sinks into me, and I purr out the word. “Yes!” He edges in another fraction of an inch, pressing me into the floor and pinning me. “Oh God!” I cry out.
Deep isn’t the word to describe how he fucks me.
He thrusts into me fiercely, and my body lifts off the floor, but he merely tilts back before surging into me again. The impact is so much I can’t speak.
“You like that?” Colin demands.
“Yes.”
“Can you handle more?”
“Yes.”
He catches both my hands, placing them above my head, then he thrusts faster into me, grinding himself deeper and deeper, before pulling out and doing it all over again. He rides me until all I can think about is him. All I can feel is him. All I can see is him.
“Shay...damn, you feel so good.”
His free hand grabs my leg, parting me farther, opening me completely. I shudder beneath him and eventually have no choice but to allow oblivion to come. I scream out in ecstasy. Dimly, I feel Colin start shaking, and then I hear his shout of fulfillment just as he drives deep and hard into me one final time.
Twenty-Six
COLIN
When she opens her eyes, Shay rushes naked from the private yoga room, uncaring if anyone might see her, and I hear the locker-room door slam.
Jesus fucking Christ! I scrub my five-o’clock shadow with my hand.
What the hell just happened?
Did I completely lose control?
Maybe so. One minute we’re doing the hardest poses Shay’s ever had me try. She seemed to be pushing me because I angered her by keeping my distance this week. Maybe those poses were her way of getting back at me, and maybe I deserved it. I’ve been so confused lately. But when she acted as if she weren’t trying to push my buttons, I lost my shit.
I’ve never been this way with other women. I’ve always been in control of my body and mind, but not with Shay. I came at her with everything I had. The beast I didn’t even know existed inside me was unleashed. Damn... I don’t think I’ve ever been that aggressive with a woman before, but God, when I was deep inside Shay, it felt like I was home. That is terrifying. We were so connected.
I think back to when this whole thing seemed easy.
Claire would be my person, and Shay would be my fuck buddy. Yet somehow the script got flipped. Claire isn’t the person I remembered. Or maybe she is, but I had blinders on. She is vain and self-indulgent while Shay is real, down-to-earth, genuine. I’ve seen it for myself. I’ve felt it. Shay truly cares about my well-being. Claire couldn’t give a shit about me except what I can do for her.
Shay has found her way into my soul and lodged there. Despite my attempts to push her away or act like the connection between us doesn’t exist...
What we have is red-hot. As evidenced by the fact I just dicked her down in the middle of her yoga studio. And I don’t give a shit because when I’m with Shay I’m living in the moment. I’m fully present, not planning my next move.
All my life, I’ve been trying to be a success, to please my father. But he isn’t here anymore. I have to start living for myself, start making decisions for my own happiness.
Once I’m dressed, I leave the private area. Thankfully, no one is here yet, so I walk to the locker room and knock on the door. “Shay? Are you all right?”
There’s silence. I need her to answer me, so I know I didn’t hurt her in my exuberance. She moaned and screamed my name. It felt like she was right there with me.
“Shay, please answer me. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Her voice is faint, but I hear “No.”
A sigh of relief escapes my lips. I’m glad for small mercies, but I don’t want to leave like this. “Can you let me in? I’d like to see for myself that you’re okay.”
“No.” Her response is loud this time.
“Okay, okay,” I respond. “I’ll leave, but I’ll call you later.” She doesn’t answer, and I exit the studio upset with myself for acting like such a Neanderthal. Shay has lifted me up the last couple of months. Without her, I don’t know where I’d be.
My thriving career, the one way I measured my success, was put on pause. Now I have to figure out my life, figure out what to do next. I’ve always had a plan, and now I’m floundering with no clear direction. Shay, and this intense connection we have, has me questioning all my life choices, questioning the direction I’ve been heading.
Needing reinforcements, I stop in and see Thea. A dose of reality and someone to talk to will be good. Then I’ll call Shay.
I just pray she gives me the chance to make things right.
Twenty-Seven
SHAY
Once I think Colin is gone, I turn on the taps and get in the shower. My studio is my safe space, yet I let my anger overrule my better judgment in how I treated a client. How I treated the man I love.
But then, the lines with Colin have always been blurred.
Sleeping with him was my first bad decision. I wasn’t looking for love or a commitment, so what was the harm? I thought I could focus on my business and enjoy sex with Colin, but no man has ever made me feel the way he does. Wanted. Desired. Needed. It’s exhilarating. I got carried away.
Being with Colin is intense, powerful—it’s made me realize I’m irrefutably head over heels for this man.
Even though he’s point-blank told me I’m not the kind of woman he wants. Not the kind of woman who comes from the so-called right kind of family, with money and privilege.
To Colin, I’ll never be good enough to rub shoulders with his elite crowd. He only wants me as his sidepiece.
For how long?
After showering, I put on the extra workout set I keep in my locker and stuff the other one inside. I can’t look at it right now. When I open the door, I hope Colin isn’t waiting for me. I count to three.
The corridor is empty.
I’m not teaching any classes. I lied earlier when I told Colin I was busy. Maribeth is instructing tonight. When I reach my office, I grab my purse and head to my car. I’m in the driver’s seat when my phone rings. Mama is on the display.
“Hey, Mama, how are you?”
“Shay, I need you.”
Her words send me into a tailspin. I’ve heard that tone of voice before. I know what it means. I know what’s coming.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“It’s Randy. He doesn’t want to be with me anymore.” She sobs. “He... he wants to explore other relationships. We’ve been together nearly two years. How can he do this to me?”
“It’s okay, Mama.” Stay calm. Reacting when she’s upset will only escalate things. “I’ll be over right away.”
“I’m sorry, Shay.” She’s still crying. Could this lead her into a downward spiral? “How soon before you can be here?”
“Give me twenty minutes.”
I hang up and immediately call her therapist. Dr. Murphy has been treating Mama for years and will know exactly how to calm her down. She tells me to bring Mama in for an appointment tomorrow morning because she has none this late in the day.
I pull into the driveway of Mama’s house exactly forty minutes later, and my mother lets me know she’s counted every minute. She greets me at the foyer in her robe. Her hair is uncombed, sticking up every which way. I can tell she’s been running her hand through it. I remember this version of Eliza Davis. When my father left, she didn’t leave the house for months. She stayed in her pajamas. She would sit by the window, waiting for him to return. My heart contracts in my chest. Not again. I need her to be well.
“You said you were going to be here twenty minutes ago,” she says accusingly.
“I know, Mama. I tried, but traffic was a nightmare.” I grasp her elbow and lead her to the family room.
We pass by the kitchen. There are dishes in the sink, pots and pans everywhere. How long has she been like this? I assumed the breakup was today, but her house tells a different story.
“You sure you weren’t with that young man I saw you with at the wedding?” she asks when we sit on the sofa.
Colin is the last person I want to talk about right now. When I don’t answer, she pushes me.
“Your date,” she responds, looking at me. “You don’t think I wouldn’t notice? I saw the way he looked at you and vice versa.”
“You’re mistaken, Mama. Plus, we’re not here to talk about me. Let’s talk about you.”
“I feel stupid.” Mama’s voice rises. “I believed everything Randy told me. I thought he loved me, but he doesn’t.”
Mama places her head in her hands, and I pull her to me. “It’s okay.” I pat her back as sobs rack her body. This is the kind of devastation love can cause. This is why I don’t want any part of it.
It has to be over between me and Colin. I would rather be alone, focusing on B&E, than experience this kind of heartbreak. I’m not willing to lay myself bare only to have him tell me again I’m not the one. He can have Claire while I keep my dignity. “It’s going to be okay. He’s not the only man out there.”
“But he’s my man,” Mama wails, “or at least he was. He doesn’t want me, Shay.”
I understand. Colin doesn’t want me either. At least, not for anything other than a roll in the hay.
“If he doesn’t realize what a prize you are, Mama, then he’s not the right man.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Shay. You’re young. You have your whole life ahead of you. Do you know how long I was alone before Randy came into my life? Since your father left me? Nearly fifteen years. It’s been awful.” She starts crying again, and I grab the box of Kleenex I spotted earlier.
“Yes, it’s awful, Mama, but you’ve been doing so good.” I hand her the tissue box. “I’m so proud of you.”
“How can you be? I’ve been a terrible mother, and I’m a terrible girlfriend.” She pushes away from me and crawls into a corner on the couch.
This behavior, this black-and-white thinking, is why I called the doctor. Mama’s mental health has been on the upswing for years. I’d hate to see her go through a bout of depression that could last for days, weeks or months.
“No, you’re not.”
“Then, why doesn’t Randy want to be with me?” she wails again. “I would do anything for him, Shay. I’ve bent myself inside out to be what he needs. Why? Because I didn’t want to be alone. How do you do it, Shay?”
“Do what?” My brows furrow in consternation.
“Be alone. Ever since you divorced Kevin, you haven’t had a serious relationship. Don’t you have needs? Don’t you want to be held, kissed...you know the rest,” she says with a half-smile through her tears.
“Of course I do, Mama.”
“That young man you were with is the first man I’ve seen you with in years.”
“I told you. I don’t want to talk about him,” I snap and jump up, heading to the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, I grab a bottle of water and grab her medicine from the cabinet. “Besides, he’s not who matters. You do. I don’t like seeing you this way.”
“I’m a bad mother. I’ve never been there for you like I should have,” Mama says. “I was just so torn up when your father left. I thought my life was over.”
Returning to the sofa, I unscrew the cap and hand my mother the bottle of water and place a tablet in her hand. “Don’t say that. You’re much stronger than you think.” She takes the pill, washes it down and hands me back the bottle. I place it on the cocktail table in front of us. “Negative thoughts right now aren’t good. You’re a survivor. Remember that.”
