“So I’m insane, right?”

As we head out of dance, I finish giving Lance the rundown about what happened yesterday with Carter, and how ridiculous pushup dialogue turned into me writhing on top of him.

Lance puts his hands on my shoulder, stops me, and blinks a few times.

“Did you . . . ya know? While you were wiggling your hips on top of him?”

“Ya know? What do you mean?” I narrow my eyes.

Leaning in, he looks around to see if anyone else is within earshot before speaking. “Did you have an orgasm?” he whispers.

I roll my eyes and scoff like it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“No. Of course not.”

“Well, you were tempted. I bet you at least got a little turned on.”

I bite my lip and look down. As down to Earth as Lance is, I think I’ll just not mention the little solo session I had after I saw Carter naked.

Which was, ironically, before the pushup incident.

When he baited me to weigh him down for pushups I couldn’t help but call his bluff. And if I was going to call it, why not have a little fun with him and mess with him, since he’d been doing the same with me?

He raises an eyebrow. “Lacy. Don’t lie to me. You looked down. You can tell me if you’re getting turned on by Carter. Even if you do hate him, love is not the opposite of hate.”

“You don’t think it is?”

“Oh God no. Joseph and I have the best sex when we hate each other. Indifference is the opposite of love. Not hate. Hate is a different shade of the same emotion.”

I cross my arms. “Not with Carter, it’s not.”

“I don’t understand what he could have done that was so bad.”

I sigh, and look around to make sure no one else from dance is in the lobby. Davina hustles toward us, her long blond hair bouncing with every stride.

She flashes a smile as she passes us in the lobby, and I can’t tell if it’s fake or not. She’s grew up in New York City with parents from a mom from Italy and a dad from Russia, and she’s got this high falootin’ ‘I’m a little bit better than everyone else’ attitude about her.

“Hey guys!” she says in a super bubbly voice.

Maybe I’m also a little jealous of her because she’s the number one. She’s two years younger than me, and she’s a lock to be selected to Blue Illusion.

Me, on the other hand? I feel like it’s an uphill battle to get a spot. And a long shot.

“Hey you,” Lance says with a wink, and I’m not going to lie. My heart warms that apparently the ‘sexy bitch’ part of that phrase is reserved just for me.

“Hey,” I say, trying to be good-natured. “You nailed that opening routine today.”

She waves my compliment away. “It was nothing. I just need to thank this guy for being such a big strong man.” She grabs Lance’s bare bicep.

A wash of jealousy comes over me, and suddenly I have a stark realization. I am a little jealous of the attention another girl is giving my very gay, sometimes-fake-boyfriend. This is not a good sign for my personal mental health.

“Anyways, I’ve gotta run. See you,” she says.

Lance bites his lip. “Adios.”

She throws her head back in laughter as she continues out the revolving door.

Lance and I follow, then pause on the sidewalk. It’s rush hour, and the hustle and bustle of the city is palpable. Cars are at a standstill in rush hour traffic. Lance lives up on the north side of the city, and I’m lucky because I live close by.

When I glance at him, I notice that Lance is just staring at me.

“Honey, you look tense.”

“I am tense,” I admit.

He sighs. “You need to get laid, don’t you? It’s all that tension you’ve been building up with Carter. It’s just begging for a release.”

“Maybe,” I respond. “But I’ll find an outlet for it.”

His phone buzzes and he checks it. “Well, speaking of tension release. There’s this new thing at the yoga studio Joseph and I belong to. It’s called Vino and Vinyasa.”

I giggle. “That’s a catchy name.”

Lance puts his hand on my shoulder and massages my neck. “It’s the ultimate stress reliever. It’s been getting really popular. If you want to go, let me know. It starts in a half hour and I’d have to sign you up right now through the website.”

“I’m in.”

“Yes! You’re going to love it. And with those hot pink tights you have on, you might even attract a guy.”

“These are quite obnoxious,” I admit.

My stomach coils, just thinking about ‘attracting a guy,’ though. It’s not something that’s remotely on my radar right now. Especially after the way things went downhill with Norton.

Except for my attraction for Carter, which is rapidly building in spite of—maybe even because of—my dislike for him.

“I’ll call us a Lyft. Oh, and after yoga, you can tell me all about why you hate Carter. I have a feeling this isn’t a quick ‘on the sidewalk’ conversation.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you keep avoiding telling me.”

“Oh.”

“Lyft is almost here. Are you ready for some downward dogs?”

I blow out a loud exhale. How is it possible that I both wish I never have to see Carter again, and at the same time want him in my bed tonight?

I hate decisions.

“Can we just skip the dogs and just go to the wine bottles?