“This would look incredible on you! You have to try it on!” Gracie exclaims, holding up a fitted, black, sleeveless dress.

The thought of a sleeveless dress practically gives me hives where I stand. An itch to pull down the arms of my sweater prickles at the back of my neck. “I prefer longer sleeves.” I bite my lip and try to hold eye contact with Grace.

She worries her lip and then taps it with her index finger while evaluating the dress. “Okay. The length and low neck work for you?”

I offer my new friend a small smile in return. She doesn’t know how much her go-with-the-flow attitude and no-questions-asked personality eases me. While Grace is exuberant, fun, and one hundred percent an extrovert, she doesn’t attempt to force her choices or personal style on anyone else.

On the other hand, the women my mother coerces to hang out with me do. I loathe having to sit through lunches where brainless, rich women talk about the newest fashions or gossip about who is getting work done and why. I know the second I leave them alone they are all talking badly about me. Poor Honor Carmichael, daughter of Judi Gannon-Carmichael, the one who will never live up to her family’s expectations. The woman her own mother is trying to marry off for business gain.

I let out a long breath and focus on the new top Gracie is holding up. It’s beautiful, flowy, and nothing like what I normally wear. I love it instantly. It’s a deep emerald green with cutouts along the outside of the sleeve. So, it shows the outside of the arm in peek-a-boo holes but not the inside. My henna and what’s hidden beneath it stay a secret. And the top is so funky and fun.

Grace’s eyebrows go toward her hairline as she holds it up for my assessment.

“I’ll give it a try.” I grin and glance back down to the rack of clothes in front of me.

“Yes!” Gracie hisses excitedly. “I knew I could find you the perfect things.”

“Well, I need a whole lot more. As in, an entire wardrobe full of new clothes.” I make the split-second decision. If I’m going to work on finding myself, I should probably purchase my own clothes, not just wear the things mother has placed in my closet on a regular basis.

Her mouth drops open before curling into an evil grin. “I’m going to load you up, sister! You just wait. You need a new look, I’m the girl for you. Budget?”

I shake my head.

“Righteous! I’m going to go get one of those bags to hold all the stuff you’re going to try on!” She dances her way toward one of the checkers.

A red jersey dress with three-quarter sleeves and a deep V in the front catches my eye. I pick it up and evaluate it in my size. It’s sexy but understated, and the fabric would feel luxurious against my bare skin. It’s a deep crimson that’s way outside of my comfort zone when it comes to color palettes. My mother would hate it. I start to put it back on the rack on autopilot.

“You have got to try that on. Girl, you’d look so sexy in it, and my brother’s eyes would bug out of his head! His favorite colors are black and red.” She winks saucily.

Black I figured out on my own. The two times I saw him he was wearing all black. Plus, the pictures of him online all had him wearing black as well. “Maybe I should get something black, then?” I can feel my cheeks heat at the bold suggestion.

Gracie waggles her eyebrows. “Yes, you definitely should. And it wouldn’t hurt to get some red and black lingerie to boot!” She knocks her hip into mine exaggeratedly.

I cough into my hand. “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, don’t you think?”

She adds another blouse to the bag she’s now holding. This one a soft yellow. Again, not something I’d pick for myself, which makes me eager to try it.

“You’re deluded if you think my brother doesn’t want to get into your panties.” She blinks a few times and lets that sink in before continuing. “I mean yeah, he’s my brother, but I’m not blind. He’s a hunk. All of the women at Lotus House are hot for him.”

Her comment makes my heart sink. I’ve seen the women at Lotus House. They are all attractive beauties. Not to mention, many of the clientele are young, svelte college girls. “Really?”

“Oh, don’t worry. You’re the only one he’s ever asked out from work. He has a really strict policy about it too. Then you come along and—whammo!—rule is shot to shit.”

“Shot to…what?” I’m confused.

“Meaning, he must really like you to break his own rule against not dating clients from the studio.”

“Oh.” Huh. Why would he do that?

“Yeah, oooohhhhh…” She drags out the word. “Told you. Now let’s make sure you look fantastic and make my bro want to weep at how pretty you look for your date on Friday!”

I’m not sure anything could make a macho man like Nick Salerno want to weep, but I have nothing to lose. Doing my best to follow my friend’s lead and go with the flow, I grab another cleavage-popping blouse, this one black with a sassy long tie at the waist that wraps around the body twice before tying in a bow. I hand it over to Grace, and she plops it in the bag.

“Atta girl. We’ve got some serious shopping to do if we’re going to get you set up in a new wardrobe.”

“How about we do what we can today and plan another date for next week?” I dig my thumbnail into my palm, wishing I hadn’t jumped the gun or been too eager.

Stupid, Honor. Stupid.

Grace, oblivious to my inner turmoil, just bobs her head. “Sounds like a plan, Stan.” She moves over to another rack of clothes, lifts a top, scrunches up her nose, and puts the top back before moving to the next.

I let out a relieved sigh. I glance down at my hand and see the thumbnail imprint dug deep into my palm. I use my thumb to rub out the spot of pain. Thank goodness I didn’t dig deep enough to cut the skin. That would be hard to explain. Ringing out my hand, though, I congratulate myself on putting myself out there, even though it was hard to do.

Breathe, Honor. You’re doing great.

Hannon’s voice comes to me, soothing the notes of tension spiraling down my spine as I rub the center of my palm.

Slowly but surely, brother. I’m finding it.

---

I finish typing up my daily email to Dr. Hart. Just the act of doing this task has me thinking about what has changed in my life over the past two weeks. I’ve moved into a hotel and soon will find my own place. I also have a girlfriend whom I genuinely like spending time with. Grace makes me want to be something I’m not. Try new things I wouldn’t try. Live a little. I’m taking yoga classes four times a week, which is physically pushing my body in a healthy way. And I’m going on a date with a man. A devastatingly good-looking man. I’ve lived more in the past two weeks than I have in the last two years. Hannon would be so proud. I wish he was here to share it with.

The sadness that comes with thinking about Hannon wafts around me, but it doesn’t pull me down to that ugly place where I need to do terrible things just to feel something. I’m already feeling something, and it’s good and positive. It’s excitement about what’s ahead, not dread and fear or anger. I’m looking forward to what this next week will bring. I just have to get through my second aerial yoga class and my date with the Italian Stallion.

Now the fear of not being enough for a man like Nick prods my psyche, but I push it back like Dr. Hart taught me. Redirect. I pull out my phone and bring up Sean’s name.

Once I finish typing the message, I set about hanging my new clothes in the walk-in closet. The nice thing about having an endless bank account is you can stay in a fully furnished penthouse in a five-star hotel without batting an eye. It has all the luxuries of living on my own: great furniture, a pool, gym, a walk-in closet, and a tub that’s big enough to bathe a small whale. Plus, I technically own it, so I can take my time finding the right place for me.

My phone buzzes in my robe pocket.

He wants to meet Grace. Only Grace doesn’t know about Sean or Hannon, and I’m not sure when or if I’ll ever go there with her. Is that something a person needs to share with friends? I’ll have to ask Dr. Hart. Sharing is a new thing for me and one I’m not exactly eager to get into. I prefer to have my relationship with Grace be light, not covered in my darkness.

Instead of my phone buzzing his response, it rings in my hand. Sean Tillman flashes on the display.

“Hello.”

“Honor…baby girl, I’m so happy you made a new friend. And yoga four times a week! Tell me everything!” he insists, a hint of pride in his voice, sounding like the old Sean of years past.

At hearing his jovial tone and letting his excitement coat my nerves, I settle into the huge bed and curl my knees up against my chest, covering my toes with the comforter.

“She teaches yoga at the place I go. Sean, she’s crazy, and fun, but mostly, she’s really nice and sweet.”

He laughs. “Sounds like a good friend to have. You met her when taking her yoga class, you said in the text? And who knew! Honor taking yoga. Hannon would love it.” He laughs.

Hannon would love it.

My heart sinks as I remember that my brother is not here to share in this new development in my world. Worse, the man he was going to spend his life with is moving on and dating another man.

I sigh, the sound weighing down the conversation. “Yes, she’s the exact opposite of me. Smiles a lot. Happy all the time. And she’s a great yoga teacher.”

“I’d like to take her class with you sometime. You know I want to spend time with you. Just us, doing something productive.” His tone is somber, coated with the emotions he’s not saying. It’s not lost on me that I remind him of what he no longer has. He does the same to me. Together we’re definitely a sad pair, but we’re also the only two people who loved Hannon and will remember him forever.

“It’s okay if it’s too hard still,” I whisper, wanting him to have an out. “I just wanted you to know that I took your advice. I’m seeing Dr. Hart regularly, and she’s helping me, Sean. I’ve moved out of my parents’ house, and I’m… Well, I’m doing a lot better right now. I don’t have it all figured out, but I’m getting there.”

A heavy breath precedes Sean’s response. “Bunny, I’m relieved to hear that. I worry about you. You’re family. Part of the only family I have left.”

I clear my throat as my eyes water. I press my fingers into my temples. “I know you do. And I love you for it. And we’ll always be family.”

“You promise?” His voice cracks.

“Yeah, I promise.”

“I’m glad I called. Let me check my schedule, and I’ll text you when I’m off next. You can take me to one of your classes. Maybe the one with your new friend Grace.”

Closing my eyes, I smile, imagining him meeting my new friend. “I’d like that, Sean. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bunny. Get some rest and take care of yourself.”

“I will,” I say instead of lying and placating him with an “I am” that is empty.

---

Lotus House is teeming with energy when I arrive, date-night bag slung over my shoulder. Dara is at the counter, and she waves me over.

“Hey, girl… I hear tonight is the night.” She grabs my hand and squeezes.

“Grace?” I offer, knowing this is where she’s getting her information.

She nods. “Um-huh. She’s so excited, that one is bouncing off the walls telling everyone that her brother is dating her new best friend.”

I laugh and shake my head. Though, the idea that I’m anyone’s “best” anything makes my heart beat double time with a sensation I don’t recognize.

“You know she means well, right?” Dara’s gaze is direct and unwavering.

“Yes, I do. And I appreciate her high spirits as it pertains to her brother and me having a date, but it’s not really a big deal.”

Dara jerks her head back. “Not a big deal?” She makes a noise with her lips that’s a cross between a shush and a psst. “Every girl in here besides the teachers would die to be in your shoes. You’ve basically caught yourself a unicorn, honey. That man does not date. What I hear, you’re the first in years.”

I frown. “I’m sure he’s seen women besides me,” I whisper, not wanting others to hear our conversation.

She snort-laughs in a way that has me grinning. “Oh, I don’t doubt that Nick has seen women. A lot of women. On their backs. Naked.” She snaps her fingers. “Dated, wooed, taken home to his mama Josephine? Nuh-uh.” She waves her index finger back and forth with a sassy edge.

“Well, he hasn’t offered to take me home to his mother either.”

She leans against the counters. “My bet, next Sunday you’ll be ass in the chair at the Salerno family table.”

“Sunday? I’m not sure I understand.” I frown, wondering what’s so important about Sundays.

Dara grins and winks. “You’ll see. Hey, Nick!” She calls out to the man in question, who must have entered behind me.

I don’t turn around, still nervous to see him. The air electrifies as warmth closes in on the back of my body. A featherlight touch caresses the side of my cheek from behind, pushing my hair to the side. Nick’s citrus and leather scent invades my senses, and I grip the counter in front of me until my knuckles turn white against the pressure.

“Dove…” he whispers against my ear.

I let out the breath I was holding as chills ripple up and down my back. His nearness is intoxicating, making me light-headed.

“Christ. You smell amazing.” He nuzzles against my neck, and I close my eyes and lean back into him without realizing I’m doing it. My body seems to react on its own, wanting to be closer to him. “Like roses in the spring.” He inhales and exhales, his breath falling warmly against the shell of my ear.

I tremble against his bulk. He lays one hand on my hip and squeezes. “You look beautiful.”

“But you can only see me from behind,” I manage through a suddenly dry throat.

“I know. And it’s a great fucking view.” His hand moves from my hip and boldly cups my right ass cheek, making me squeak. “Been dreaming about this ass for a week. Now get it moving to class. I want you right up front where I can see you.” He firms his hold on my ass, and I have to bite back a moan.

It’s been so long since a man has touched me in a sexual way, I’m not sure how to handle it, other than to take what he’s offering and be grateful.

“Got it?” His breath teases the hairs on my nape.

I nod.

“Words, Dove. I want your words.” He growls against my neck. The vibration rolls through me like sap dripping down a tree. Slow, fluid, and mesmerizing.

“Yes, Nick. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I mumble through the arousal seeping into my bones.

He hums against my skin, inhales deeply, and squeezes my ass once more before he’s gone.

“Catch you later, Dara,” he says over my shoulder as if he wasn’t just twirling me into a heady sexual haze, making my mind complete and utter mush.

Dara bends forward toward the counter, smirks, and places her chin in her open palm. “You are so gone for that boy.”

She is not wrong. There is absolutely no denying the power Nick’s voice alone holds over me. It hits me like a two-ton truck slamming into a concrete wall.

I want him.

For the first time in as long as I can remember, I’ve found something I want with reckless abandon, and his name is Nick Salerno.

“Yeah,” I mumble and shakily push away from the counter, my legs weak at the knees.

Dara chuckles. “Go get him, girl. Make that boy your man!” she urges.

“I don’t… I don’t know how to do that.”

She cants her head to one side. “From the way I just saw it, you’re already doing it. That man’s aura glows a fiery red the second he lays eyes on you. That’s passion and desire burning bright as the sun, sweet thang. Not a whole lot you need to do.” She shrugs, her blue eyes gleaming a crystal ocean blue. “My suggestion…just keep being you.”

I take a deep breath and nod, not making eye contact. She doesn’t need to know that I don’t even know what being me looks like. Instead, I head to the door, use my lotus-shaped key card, and enter the hallway heading toward the girls’ locker room. I put away all my stuff and pause at the mirror nearest my locker. My own image greets me.

Tall, thin frame, long blonde hair curled in the beachy look I learned from watching videos online. I’ve got minimal makeup on, and my gray eyes still look a bit sunken in for my liking. Attempting to be bold, I unzip my hoodie and leave it open. Underneath is a black, cropped, yoga bra-type contraption that has several crisscrossing sections along my back and shoulders. Its halter style gives my larger bust enough support, but it’s long enough that it reaches my last rib, leaving my abdomen completely bare. The pants I’m wearing fit close to the body and have this fold-over, whimsical, multicolor flap that looks like it’s splotched with paint. According to Grace, this is “the shit” and her brother will swallow his tongue when he sees me in it. I took that to mean it looked good on me and promptly bought it. And it’s black.

I hope he likes black on me as much as he likes it on himself. Feeling stupid, I let out a long breath, zip the hoodie back up, and head to class.

When I arrive, it’s completely full except for the single hanging yoga hammock in the front. Nick is holding the silks, eyes to the door.

Breathe. He’s just a man.

Who am I kidding? Nick is not just a man. He’s an insanely sexy one. A man I’ve not stopped thinking about since I met him. A man I’m going on a date with after class tonight. What have I gotten myself into? He is far out of my league, yet he wants to take me out. I don’t get it.

Nick holds out the hammock for me as I make my way to the front.

“Thought you might bail.” He smiles rather shyly.

I firm my chin and force myself to hold his gaze. “No. I want this.” Correction. I want you, but I keep that bit to myself.

“Me too. You ready to be taken on an aerial journey?” He rubs his hands together.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Let me take you there.” Innuendo is thick in his choice of words as he turns and addresses the entire class. “We’re starting standing tonight. I want you to get settled with the silks low at your back, your legs stretched out in front of you. I’m feeling good tonight…” His gaze catches mine, and he winks.

My heart pounds out of my chest, and my temperature rises. Before I get situated, I unzip my hoodie and let it fall to the floor near my mat. I turn around, press the silks into my lower back, and stretch out as the rest of the class has.

When I look back at the front, Nick is staring at me. His eyes bounce from my face to my chest, to my bare abdomen, and down to my painted toes and back up. His jaw firms, and a muscle in his cheek ticks while his eyes run over me like a brand. Nick ups the ante when he yanks up his black T-shirt and tugs it over his head, giving me a front-row seat to the hot male yogi show.

Again, my temperature spikes, heat nipping at my flesh in places I’d rather not think about for fear I might spontaneously combust. I lick my lips and run my hands up and down the silks above my head, imagining they are Nick’s muscled arms.

One of his eyebrows rises, and he grins. The bastard knows what he’s doing to me. It’s probably why he chose to put me up front. So he could watch my every reaction to him and his ridiculously beautiful body.

What Nick doesn’t know is that I’m a professional at not displaying my feelings. I’ll just blank out my emotions and focus on the yoga movements, not on the insanely attractive man on display.

The only way to play his game is to ignore him.

“Never let them see you sweat, Honor.”

It’s what Hannon used to say, and I call up on that sage advice now.

It works through most of the class…until it doesn’t for Nick.