Frenemy Fix-Up, page 9
When I look down, Colin is struggling to get back up. Extending a hand, I help him to his feet. He holds my hand for a bit too long and a bubble of warmth spreads inside me. “Everything okay?”
“Feels as if all the blood is rushing to my legs.”
“Perfectly natural. With time and practice the poses will come more naturally to you. You did really well today. If you give me a minute, we can head to the store. I just want to be sure my other instructor is here for the next class.”
“Sure thing.” I leave him in the private room to find Dawn. In creating the schedule, I made sure I could devote sufficient time to Colin and his meal plan.
Dawn is already in the studio setting up for the next class. When I head back to the private room, Colin has already rolled up the mats.
“Did you spray those off? I have to disinfect them before each client. It’s a must.”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Give them to me.” I take the mats from him. “I can do it later. Are you ready to go shopping?”
“I’m eager with anticipation,” he says drolly.
“If you’re not serious, we don’t have to continue training.” I swivel on my heel, but Colin is right behind me.
“It was a joke, Shay,” he says when we make it to my office. “If we’re going to spend a lot of time together, you’ll need to lighten up. Not everything is a dig at you.”
“I’m sorry. But I’m serious about what I do.”
“I see that, and I told you I’m committed to the process.”
“Good.” I bend over to grab my purse out of the drawer and when I right myself, Colin’s eyes are on my ass. “See something you like?”
His full lips curve into a wide smile. “Don’t play with fire, Shay.”
I roll my eyes, but despite my best intentions I sashay my hips as I precede him down the hall. It gives me a secret thrill knowing he’s watching me.
* * *
When we reach my car, Colin scoffs in disdain. “You want me to get in that?” He acts as if my Hyundai is a deathtrap, but he rode in it that night at the hospital. How easily he forgets.
Colin shakes his head. “No way. We’re going in my Audi.” He turns to the vehicle beside mine.
Shrugging, I move to the passenger door. “Whatever. You have to take the groceries home anyway.”
He clicks the fob, and I slide into one of the most luxurious vehicles I’ve ever been in. Even Wynter doesn’t drive around in pimped-out wheels like this. The leather sports seats feel like silk, and you can’t miss the detailed diamond stitching and large touch-screen display.
“Nice wheels,” I comment, buckling myself in and admiring all the gadgets.
“Thanks,” Colin says, pulling out of the parking space. “Where to?”
“Let’s hit up Whole Foods.”
“That store has overpriced food you can get anywhere.”
“That may be so, but you could use all the organic foods you can get.”
“If you say so.” He puts the car in Drive and pulls away from the plaza.
“Oh, you’re finally going to do what I say?” I rub my hands together with glee. “I’m going to like this. I’ll have to think other activities.”
“I could think of a few,” Colin responds underneath his breath.
I don’t take the bait. “For starters, you’ll start taking brisk walks in the mornings. It’s a great way to relax your mind and get in some cardio.”
“Walking sucks. Can’t we run?”
“At this point, I’d rather you start slow, a brisk two-mile walk can do wonders.”
“I’m used to more activity than this, Shay.”
“And how’s that working out? Did you or did you not end up in the hospital because you weren’t taking care of yourself?”
He’s silent, and I sense he doesn’t appreciate my words.
“You’ve given me ninety days, so in return you get a drill sergeant who’s going stay on your ass and make sure you eat right and exercise.”
“You made your point.”
After a tense ten-minute drive, we pull into Whole Foods. I’m not Colin’s biggest fan, but I was hired to get him in shape, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money.
We exit the vehicle and once inside, I grab a shopping cart. “We’re shopping the perimeter of the store, that’s where all the nutritious foods are, like your fruits, vegetables and protein.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Colin gives me a salute, and I roll my eyes, but he follows me inside. We walk the produce section, and I comment that he should buy brussels sprouts, but he resists.
“I don’t like them. I prefer broccoli.”
“You haven’t had my brussels sprouts,” I say confidently and defiantly place a bag of the veggies in the shopping cart.
He glares at me.
“Mine are the bomb, roasted in the oven with a little bit of balsamic vinaigrette.”
“I don’t know, Shay. My mom boiled them, and they were hideous.”
“Trust me. I got you, boo.”
His mouth creases into a smile. “Boo?”
“I’m sorry. I was just...” Flirting. That’s what I was doing. And I know better. Today, I told myself I would treat him strictly as a client, but I can’t deny that while sitting in the car with his muscles on full display, I was flustered.
Colin touches my shoulder. “It’s okay to joke around, Shay. We both need to loosen up. We’re wound a little tight.”
You can say that again.
“C’mon.” I incline my head toward the fruit display. “Let’s talk berries.”
An hour later, the shopping cart is loaded with a variety of veggies from kale to brussels sprouts, blueberries, red and green apples, good healthy fats like avocados and almonds, high-protein carbs like beans, quinoa and black beans as well as eggs, chicken breasts, salmon and lean turkey.
Eventually, we make our way to the checkout lane. Colin isn’t impressed with my food choices, but he’s a good sport even when the bill rings up at an impressive three hundred dollars.
Eating right isn’t cheap.
He takes the cart from me and rolls it out to the car, placing the brown paper bags in his trunk.
“Now what?” he says. “Are you going to cook for me too?”
“I hadn’t thought about it. Are you asking me to do meal prep?”
“Wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
“That can be arranged. If you’re willing to pay for the food, I’ll cook for you. We can start next week.”
“Why not right now?” Colin asks.
“I...” Why is he always pushing me?
Unfortunately, I can’t think of pithy comeback because I blocked off the entire afternoon, but cook for him? Without time for me to build up more emotional armor? It’s probably not a good idea given the sexual tension between us.
But since I can’t think on my feet, Colin takes it as a sign of acquiescence. “Great! Hop in.” He closes the trunk and moves to the driver’s side while I stand there looking like a fool.
Eventually, I climb into the passenger seat. “I don’t have any meal-prep containers.” The excuse is lame, but it’s the best I can come up with on short notice.
“No problem.” His thick lips broaden into a grin, and he pulls out his iPhone. “I’ll order them on Instacart, and they’ll have it over to us in a jiffy.”
Why is he so gung ho about this?
Can’t he see I’m trying to get out of this predicament? I glance over at him, and there’s a twinkle in his eye. A small zing of awareness shoots through me. He absolutely knows what he’s doing.
“That’s fine.” Shrugging, I act as if I don’t care, but I’m worried about being alone with Colin and what might happen if there’s no one to stop me from climbing him like a tree.
“Good. What’s your address?” he asks. “I assume you want to cook at your place where you have everything?”
“That would be best.” Rattling off my address, he pulls away from the curb. My nerves skyrocket on the drive, and my sex clenches with anticipation. Lust sizzles through me. Nothing is going to happen tonight. I won’t let it. I’ll cook him a meal, and he’ll go home, but deep down I know that’s a lie because I suspect by the end of the night, Colin will end up deep inside me and I’ll be screaming out his name.
Eleven
COLIN
Shay was surprised by my request for her to cook. She didn’t expect me to throw down the gauntlet, but I have no impulse control right now, not when all afternoon she’s tried to keep me at a distance. Treating me as if I don’t affect her. How can she act like this current isn’t flowing between us? I can’t ignore it, and that pisses me off because once again I’m not in control of my actions around her. I wanted to push her buttons, but instead I pushed my own.
She thought I wouldn’t notice she’s not in her usual attire. The last couple of times I’ve seen her, Shay was in a skimpy sports bra showing off her lithe figure, from the swell of her breasts to her delicious butt in tight leggings and yoga pants. Today, however, she is covered up in a T-shirt that hits her butt and wide-leg pants.
Hands off is the message, but my dick isn’t receiving it.
All I could think about when she bent over to place the groceries in my trunk was that I wanted to pull her soft body into my arms. Excitement brims at the prospect of finally being able to fulfill the fantasies I’ve had about her since we first reconnected. I’m ready to claim all the pleasure I know is waiting for us.
Glancing over at her, she’s sitting with her legs closed tightly. Is her pussy tightening as she wonders what my next move will be? The evening can move slowly, but it will take its inevitable conclusion.
My mind warns me to keep my distance and focus on my plan: get healthy, get Claire and get back on top at the Myers Group. Giving in to this need to be with Shay is the definition of insanity, but she’s gotten under my skin. I’ll be on edge until we see where this attraction goes.
To relax her, I ask how long she’s lived in the suburbs.
“Not long,” she responds. “Moved in after my divorce. I didn’t want to be too far away from my mama.”
“Is she ill?” I inquire, curious to know more about Shay. She is an enigma. What makes her tick? Even as I think the question, I know I shouldn’t be getting in too deep. Instead, I should call Claire, follow the plan, but right now I want to be exactly where I am.
She pauses. “She’s had some challenges, and its easier if I’m closer.”
I nod. “How long have you been divorced?”
“Four years.”
“You guys got married pretty young.”
“We did.” She doesn’t look at me, just stares out the window. “I was looking for love to validate me and make me whole when I needed to love myself first.”
Her words are considered, and I wonder why she had such low self-esteem. She’s straightforward, hardworking and ambitious—all qualities I respect. The gates are open when I pull into her complex. The apartments are luxurious with a pond and a fountain. We drive past the clubhouse and pool area until Shay directs me to a three-story stucco building with enclosed patios. I park my Audi and turn off the engine.
Shay is already climbing out as if her pants are on fire. We unload the trunk, and I follow her to her building. Her apartment is on the second floor, but instead of taking the elevator and the easy way, Shay opts for the stairs. We climb a flight with arms full of bags until we stop at her door. She punches several digits into a keypad and opens the door, allowing me to precede her.
Her place is nice with luxury vinyl flooring throughout the kitchen and living room and carpet in what seems to be the bedroom. We deposit the bags on the granite countertop. The kitchen is high-end with stainless-steel appliances, wood cabinets and track lighting. The living room houses a soft suede couch and recliner, a ceiling fan and a large-screen television on the wall leading out to the enclosed patio.
“Do you mind?” I incline my head.
“Go right ahead,” she says, unpacking the groceries.
Unlocking the door to the screened-in patio, I notice her apartment has a view of the pond. There’s a walking trail, and a few folks are out with their dogs. “Nice place,” I comment when I walk back inside.
“Thanks. It serves its purpose.” She’s already done unpacking and is sorting the food.
“Any idea what’s for dinner?” I didn’t have much for lunch other than a quick salad, and I’m starving.
She surveys the counter. “I’m thinking something easy like shrimp Florentine with zoodles.”
My brow rises in confusion. “What are zoodles?”
“They’re vegetables made to look like noodles.” She holds up a package. “You didn’t notice I put these in your cart?”
“You put a lot of stuff in there I would never eat, so I stopped paying attention and just let you do what you do.”
She laughs. “You do know you’re going to have to learn how to cook?”
I shrug. “I don’t cook. Or at least not more than the basics like eggs and stuff. Anyway, that’s what I have you for.” My mouth curves into my sexiest grin.
“I didn’t plan on cooking tonight,” she replies, opening her refrigerator and pulling out some garlic.
“You want me to stay on track, don’t you?”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t comment. So I sit on one of the barstools at the counter and enjoy the view as she sets about making dinner. After washing her hands, she pulls the remaining ingredients from the fridge. Then she chops up the garlic and cleans the shrimp. Olive oil in the skillet is followed by the zoodles, onion and garlic, then she adds a pinch of salt.
When it’s done, she transfers the zoodle mixture to a bowl and stirs the shrimp into the same skillet along with more garlic. Then, there’s spinach, a dash of lemon juice, some red pepper flakes and a few more seasonings. The entire meal takes her under thirty minutes. I’m wowed she crafted something so delicious in a short span of time.
“When did you learn to cook?” I ask after she’s made our plates and set mine in front of me.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I watched my older brother, Riley, cook, and when he left for college I didn’t have much choice but to learn if I wanted to eat. C’mon, I have a dining table.”
She changes the subject from her family, and I sense it’s a taboo topic. I follow her to a round four-seater metal table with a stone top. After grabbing us both some silverware and bottled water, we dig into the meal.
“You’re always asking me questions. What about you?” Shay asks. “Was your mom always slaving away in the kitchen?”
I shake my head. “Quite the opposite. She was a working mother and is a teacher for the San Antonio public schools. Thanks to her schedule, she was always able to be home after school.”
“That’s commendable. I give props to her. And your dad?”
Now here’s a subject I don’t want to talk about, so I keep it brief. “He passed away a few years ago. He owned his own car dealership.”
Shay surprises me by touching my hand. “I’m so sorry.” She’s genuine, much like she was that night at the hospital, even though I’d been a jerk to her.
But I don’t want her pity right now. I want her. I turn her hand in mine and inspect it. “Your hands are so small.” I place our hands palm to palm.
Heat surges in my blood. I want to pull her in my lap, but I resist. We haven’t even finished our meal. I release her hand, and she quickly pulls it back and lowers her eyes to her plate.
“Do you have any siblings?” she inquires, continuing to eat her shrimp Florentine while taking small sips of water. Is she as thirsty as I am, but not for water?
I nod as I finish up the dish. It’s quite good even without real noodles. “My baby sister, Thea. How about you?”
“Just Riley. He’s marrying my best friend Wynter in six weeks.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Initially? Anger. Mostly at Riley.”
“Why’s that?”
“They became lovers first.” My eyes drift to hers at the word lovers. “But then Wynter fell in love, and Riley pushed her away, which made me upset because he didn’t want to commit.”
“They’re getting married, so he must have changed his mind.”
She smiles, and it reaches her eyes. “Yes, he did, and I’m happy for them.”
“And what about you, Shay? What do you want?” Lifting the water bottle to my lips, I take a sip, but my eyes hold hers. It’s a loaded question. Will she pick up the gauntlet I’ve thrown down? Or will we keep tiptoeing around the sparks flying between us? Ever since that kiss, I haven’t been able to get the taste of her out of my mind.
I’m ready for another.
Shay’s face flushes, and the pronounced rise and fall of her breasts are noticeable. She wants me, but she’s afraid to take what she wants. She rises to her feet with her plate in hand, and I follow suit.
“Let me.” I take the plate from her hand, deliberately touching her. Her eyes dart to mine, and her lips part so invitingly that I throw out caution, put both plates down on the table and take her in my arms.
“Colin.” Her voice is deliciously throaty. I want to hear her call out my name when I’m balls deep inside her. “Please...”
“Please, what? Don’t kiss you? I’m sorry, Shay. I can’t keep that promise because all I’ve thought about is kissing you again. Tell me you want this so I can make you come with my tongue.”
