When Milo saw Evelyn Mooney’s mousy little head emerge from the women’s locker room right in front of him, his eyes bulged and he had to work hard to change his expression into one of apathetic nonchalance. Her hair was wet, and bound up into a sloppy bun. He could see her bra through her white t-shirt, and her ass was serious business in those dark blue compression pants. Hell, her ass was its own corner store. He could find anything he needed right there, no matter the hour, he was sure of it.

“You are a golden goddess,” Eve murmured to herself in a low, somber voice. “Power. Strength. Gaia. You are strong. Sexy. Confident.”

“And late,” Milo whispered behind her, causing Eve to gasp, whirl, and pummel him with an ineffectual fist. With her halo of mussed dark hair and that mouth puckered with angry passion, she looked incredibly hot.

Unbidden fantasy played through Milo’s mind: whipping those adorable glasses off her face and kissing her hard. His fingers digging into that fleshy, lily white ass. Spreading her velvety thighs. Parting her pink folds with his tongue. He bet she tasted like vanilla cream and cookie crumbles.

Milo blinked, and the unbidden fantasy evaporated, his attention returning to Eve’s pissed off expression. He was left with a good sized bulge in his pants, thickening nicely and ready for use.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Eve barked, not noticing Milo’s rising discomfort.

“Right,” Milo agreed. He was thrown off by the intensity and the vividness of his fantasy and his snarkiness abated as he directed blood flow away from his dick by reminding it of his grandmother in a bikini and flirting with his best friend’s grandfather at his birthday party when he was eleven. There. Now his woody wouldn’t be back for days.

Milo’s eyes refocused and he panicked slightly when he saw Eve draping herself over the stretching equipment. Her ass seemed to open in bloom as she bent at the waist to touch her toes. Milo swallowed. He remembered his secondary reason for attempting to deny this woman access to his program: the potential libel suit and criminal charges if he couldn’t restrain himself.

The erection came barreling back into his boxers, twice as hard as previously, and now Eve was straightening, peering at him quizzically.

“We always start out with stretches,” she reminded him. “You help me get lower.”

“And you think I should do that again, I guess, your majesty?” Milo wondered incredulously.

“Yes,” Eve laughed, stretching backward across a bar at her hip level.

“Okay,” he agreed hesitantly. She offered him her ankle. He grimaced and took it, then lifted her leg into the air, forcing it between their two bodies and bringing her outer thigh muscles together for a deep squeeze. It also pressed her pussy against him for just a few seconds, a fleeting curvature beneath one thin layer of stretchy pant. He could feel the warmth radiating from her slit, so intense that his prick could sense that she didn’t have panties on. It gave a resilient throb, insistent, right against her.

Milo’s unmistakable hardness right against her crotch snapped Eve out of her daze.

“Stretched,” Eve piped awkwardly. “I’m stretched now.”

“Me too,” Milo agreed breathlessly, putting ample space between them. “I feel good, and you felt good. All good. Right?”

“Right,” Eve insisted.

Bless her anxious little heart. Her cheeks were as rosy as stage makeup.

“We can just keep on with the program,” she continued.

“Excellent. It doesn’t require any—you know—more grinding.”

“Okay.” Bright red began to creep down Eve’s neck. “Let’s just do it.”

Milo’s heart softened. “How about”—his voice squeaked and he cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows at her so that Eve knew everything was fine, and he was cool—“we do a few warm-up laps on the track?” He began loping away from her.

Milo had intentionally forgotten about the hour’s sensual beginning, his bone-hard length rubbing so slightly, accidentally, against the Eve’s womanhood. Jesus, that had felt good in a way he would never be able to express. He wondered if it had crossed her mind, even for one second, to grind her hips and tilt her pelvis against him, letting her labia slide open, letting their two sexes really wake each other up.

Probably not. Milo’s love life was a mess, anyway. He still wasn’t over his ex and the blow of the breakup had kept him celibate for the past year. He was just horny. He was just hard. And Eve was so…soft and vulnerable.

After a few deep breaths and some more granny visualization, he was able to watch her do some repetitions without further embarrassment.

We’re friends at best. That’s it. That’s all.

“People focus too much on the end result of working out,” he said. “It can be relaxing. It can be rewarding. I work out for all kinds of reasons. It’s great for stress relief, sleep, and a host of other things. I bet you need to relieve some stress, right, Eve?”

“Damn straight,” Eve breathed, pushing the bar down, letting it enter Milo’s sphere. He took it lightly and braced it from behind her, their bodies barely touching. Her ass fit neatly in the crevasse made by his spread thighs. He exhaled very intentionally. Then Granny offered to get Anthony’s granddad a stiff drink, leaning over the patio furniture to give him a view of her ample and wrinkly cleavage.

“I got made into a meme this week,” Eve said, jolting Milo’s mind out of his enforced visualization.

“You got made into a meme?”

Eve nodded and the bar drifted away from them, still clutched in her fists. “I got made into a meme,” she repeated gripping the tension bar and completing another rep.

Milo let go an uncharacteristic burst of laughter. “How did you manage that? I thought only stupid people submitted themselves to that type of ridicule.”

“You don’t think I’m stupid?” Eve asked.

“Not that stupid,” Milo replied vaguely. “So, what’s the meme? How did the Internet even get a hold of a picture of you?”

The tension bar drifted away, and this time they let the weights rest and Eve shook out her tired arms, turning to him. “Did you seriously just ask me how the Internet got my picture?” She pulled her hair out of its elastic band and shook it, filling the weight room with the perfume of her shampoo again. Damn her. “I’ve got a blog,” she indulged him. “Doesn’t the Internet have any of your pictures on it?”

“Doubtful, but maybe,” Milo answered. “I don’t own a computer.”

“You don’t have a computer?”

“I don’t have a Facebook either, or an Instagram, or a Myspace, or whatever all the kids are Skyping on these days.”

“All the kids,” Eve repeated. There was unmistakable affection in her eyes. “You sound like an old man.”

Milo frowned “I am.”

“You’re in your thirties, aren’t you?”

“I’m twenty-nine,” Milo replied with a scowl.

“Well, if you wouldn’t frown so much, you’d look it!” Eve countered.

Milo almost smiled. Almost.

“So, is the meme really mean?”

“Of course it is,” Eve answered. “I’ve only seen a couple of them, but someone posted one of my pictures in this stupid forum and people reposted me as ‘Sexy Fat Girl,’ saying stuff that is either sexy, or ‘fat,’ or both.”

“You’re not fat,” Milo assured her. It was true. She wasn’t.

“But I’m sexy?” she asked, grinning. Her teeth took a nip at her lower lip and Milo forced his eyes away from her, suddenly feeling flushed.

“Don’t worry, Eve,” he told her, refusing to look. “You’re not fat or sexy. Now get out of here. My time ain’t free.”

Eve took his surly attitude in stride, as she always did, and departed from the gym. He didn’t let himself watch her until she was safely on the other side of the wall, passing the windows, and then he let his eyes trace over her and the most curious, foreign sensation lanced through his heart.

* * *

There is nothing more depressing than wearing your third bridesmaid gown in a year, Eve thought. Unless it was your little brother’s wedding which made you the last unmarried person in your entire family.

She thanked the salesgirl at the bridal boutique, who said that she glowed like an angel, who said that she needed to come back there for her wedding dress. “I sure will,” Eve promised, strains of panic in her voice.

Maybe there will be oodles of eligible bachelors at the wedding? She paid the lady behind the register and scooped up her giant paper bag. The event was a destination wedding at a ski lodge, so the atmosphere would, in all likelihood, be bursting with romance and adventure. Vast starry night skies, form-fitting ski pants, and gallons of wine.

Maybe she would brave the treacherous Black Diamond after sundown and crash into a snowdrift? Eve kept the fantasy going as she left the bridal boutique and stepped out into the mall itself. Some gorgeous, single ski instructor, who was saving up for med school, would wave a flashlight around and extract her from the ice. He might even have to give her mouth-to-mouth. Then, after rubbing her shoulders inside a warmed blanket, in front of a roaring fire, followed by some crème de menthe-laced cocoa…

Eve yelped as a physical force slammed into her, sloshing frigid ice down her top, as if the outside world was trying to impose vindictive karma for her mental detour.

“I am so sorry,” a strangely familiar voice boomed down to her. But it wasn’t the voice she recognized first. It was that soft, firm grip around her arms, and the sensation of her pussy awakening.

Eve’s eyes tipped up to drink in Yoga God Cliff Bauer. Even though the front of her sweater was drenched in a pink slurry of ice chips, she couldn’t have been more delighted. Cliff was out of his gym clothes and dressed in luxurious slacks, a loose cotton t-shirt, and a thin, dark peacoat. His hair was still hopeless. Eve felt like she couldn’t stop exhaling. Was that why she felt light-headed and ready to pass out?

“Cliff,” Eve breathed.

“Please don’t tell me I just ruined your wedding dress,” Cliff begged.

“Nope, nope,” Eve said. “Just another lousy bridesmaid dress.”

Cliff winced. “Let me buy you a replacement,” he said. “I can’t have ruining someone’s wedding on my karma.”

Eve rolled her eyes sarcastically. “My stupid brother,” she clarified. “No one special.”

Cliff was nodding emphatically. “Yes, yes, I’m already getting out my wallet.”

When they were inside the store, Eve gestured toward the gown and grimaced, trailing her hand over the rich ribbing. “Not exactly my color,” she murmured.

“Are you kidding?” He reached over her and snatched the heavy dress off its rack, hauling it easily toward the counter. “You’re going to be gorgeous. Hey. You look out for those guys who crash weddings!”

Eve cocked her head. “You mean—the movie guys?”

“I’m sure it’s also a real thing,” Cliff countered. In front of them, a young girl tallied the bill. “Seven hundred and twelve dollars, eighty-six cents.”

Cliff shook his head.

“You don’t have to do this,” Eve assured him.

The card slid out of his wallet and the woman swiped it on her side. “I should have been watching where I was going. Don’t know how I missed you.”

Eve felt relief wash over her as the transaction processed and the bag was passed to her. She really didn’t want to keep chipping into her savings.

“Thank you,” she said, gazing up at Cliff with something kind of like adoration.

“What were you doing?” Cliff asked, diverting her attention from his nobility.

“Just this. After this, I’ve got to go home and update my blog. I know, it sounds weird to care about updating a blog, but it’s actually got a few hundred subscribers now.”

“What’s the blog about? Don’t tell me,” Cliff added hastily, his eyes going dreamy and distant. “You post selfies of your outfits every day. No, too basic. It’s a cooking blog. Web comic! It’s a web comic.”

Eve smiled softly. He hadn’t been right, but it was encouraging to see him thinking about what made her tick. He might actually think about her existence outside of the gym. “It’s kind of a soul-searching, lucid-dreaming, visualization and affirmation blog,” Eve explained. “I guess it’s about weight loss, but it’s also about, you know, confidence, and decision-making, and all that stuff. I put it in the health and beauty category, though, I guess, if we’re going to strip it down to its barest bones.”

Cliff nodded as they strolled toward the food court. “I went through a period like that myself a few years ago. Hit with a divorce and downsizing in the same year. I thought that my life was in shambles, but those shambles did hold the seed of my life today. And, you know, I’m still kind of going through it.” Cliff smiled down at Eve. His eyes were so profoundly welcoming. “We’re all going through it, all the time. It’s growth. It’s painful and ugly but it’s life and there is no shame in it.”

“Yeah? Well, don’t get too excited for my growth,” Eve chastised him playfully. “I still don’t see any difference.”

“I do,” Cliff promised her. He chucked under her chin, a gesture of affection which could have been passed between any two people, but it made Eve’s heart launch into her ears. “Give your stupid brother my congratulations. Well.” Cliff looked down and huffed out a little laugh. “I may only be his sister’s yoga instructor, but I know that, when people love each other and they commit to that, it’s sacred.”

“You’re not just my yoga instructor,” Eve countered instinctively. As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she winced internally, but she couldn’t call it back. It was too late. Her vulnerability was out there.

Cliff grinned down at her. “I guess I’m not,” he agreed.

Eve’s mouth bloomed into a rosy smile as well, and for a moment, they just smiled at each other like idiots. Cliff was the one to regain his composure first, and cleared his throat. The smile had only been for a matter of seconds, but it’d felt like slow motion minutes to him.

“When’s the big day?” he asked, pointedly looking away from Eve. They were advancing on the bright activity of a packed food court.

“A couple months from now.” Eve said, looking up at him and nodding thoughtfully. “It is also kind of far away too.”

“Ah, one of those,” Cliff replied. “I’ve got a wedding coming up around the holidays, too. “I’m just a guest.”

“This one’s sometime in November,” Eve guessed. She had a terrible memory for things like numbers and commitments. She really did need someone around just to help her live more practically, a partner possibly? She was still going to this damn wedding alone, after all. “It’s in Colorado. That’s where the rest of my family lives now. Colorado. Originally, we were all from New York. She shrugged. “I’m the last Mooney here now.”

Cliff stared at her just a fraction harder. “Mooney,” he repeated thoughtfully. An unabashed grin broke out. “Is Joshua Mooney your stupid little brother?”

Eve’s eyebrows knotted together over her librarian glasses. “How do you know Josh?”

“We played intramural sports with NYC Social!” Cliff was grinning.

“I remember that,” she agreed. Josh had briefly played baseball with the NYC Social team. “Josh did play with NYC Social about…let me think now.”

Cliff frowned, considering. “Got to be around ten years ago.”

“I don’t know, that seems a bit long,” Eve amended. “He was only fifteen then.”

“Yeah, I meant for me,” Cliff clarified. “It’s so crazy to think about how much time has gone by. But, anyway, Josh was much younger than me when he joined the team.” Cliff beamed at the realization. “I can’t believe you’re Josh’s sister. And he’s getting married, huh?”

“Yep. He’s twenty-five now, been with Brie for five years. He got engaged sometime last year. I guess it’s pretty exciting.”

“You don’t sound very excited.” He smiled, his eyes locked tight to Eve. She turned and caught the look in his eyes and offered up a meek smile in return.

The sound of a small child wailing played in the background and Cliff’s smile faded, his eyes becoming more intense as they looked past her shoulder. She momentarily forgot the question of Josh and marriage and happiness, and turned to look. Weaving between tables and patrons, was a toddler, her head thrown back and her mouth wide open, bawling. Her fists were plunged into the gathers of a pink, sparkly tutu. She obviously had no idea how adorable she was, even while throwing a tantrum.

Eve and Cliff simultaneously glanced at one another, perplexed, and then advanced on the little girl. Eve squatted down to her eye level. “Hi there,” she greeted the wailing creature. “Are you all right?”

The little girl gave her one watery glare and went back to the business of screaming.

“Hello? Hello?” Eve said into the little girl’s face, stopping just short of knocking on her forehead. “This one’s not responsive,” she went on, straightening up to look at Cliff again.

He bowed easily in front of Eve, cupping the little girl’s wet chin in one massive, gentle palm.

“Where is your mommy or daddy?” Cliff asked comfortably.

The girl sniffled and blinked her big wet eyes, then answered, “No sé.”

“We have words! We have words,” Cliff cheered, bracing her shoulders. “What’s your name? Uh, qué te llamo?” Cliff obviously had little confidence regarding his conversational Spanish.

But it must not have been too bad, because the little girl sniffled and answered, “Lupe.”

Cliff nodded. “Bien, Lupe. Vamos a encontrar tu familía.” He glanced up at Eve.

After several minutes of hunting through the food court, Eve and Cliff tracked down an alarmed couple who were upstairs, calling for Lupe. Their daughter burst from Cliff’s side, and her mother dissolved into tears of gratitude. “Gracías, señor! Gracías, gracías.”

“De nada, señora. De nada.”

As they walked away from the reunited family, Eve gazed up at Cliff with a discreet adoration. He glanced at her and she instinctively looked away.

“This might sound crazy,” Cliff said, also looking away from Eve. “There’s going to be this really hellish, um, birthday party this weekend. If you like clowns and cake and stuff like that. Would you want to come with me, maybe?”

Eve cocked her head. When she looked at Cliff, she imagined birthday parties that involved deep sea fishing off the back ends of yachts.

“Clowns?”

“It’s my son’s,” Cliff explained.

Eve felt a sudden cold rush surge through her. “Oh,” she murmured, not meaning to sound so sad. It just came out of her that way.

“My ex-wife is throwing it.”

Eve tried not to look too thrilled to hear the word “ex” in front of the word wife. “I didn’t know you had a son,” she said instead. “How old is he?”

“Just about to turn six,” Cliff answered, sounding winded by that fact. “My ex, she’s a great mom.”

Eve’s heart twinged, just for a moment.

“Awesome,” she offered. Was she talking too loud? She felt like she was talking too loud.

“But she’s so, so cruel toward me,” he went on wistfully. “So, what I’m really asking is, will you be my human shield for the evening?”

Like a just-friends date? Eve wondered.

“Um, you don’t think that it will fuel the fire? To show up with another woman?” Eve blurted.

“It actually won’t,” Cliff said, though Eve didn’t understand how that was possible. “Not this time. She’s still, uh, very angry about something else.”

“Sounds like fun,” Eve lied through her teeth. In all honesty, she did not want to do this, but it sounded like Cliff really needed a friend. “I’d love to.”

Cliff smiled nervously. All he said was, “Great,” with a little bit too much enthusiasm.