Chapter 26
I roll up my yoga mat and slide it into my bag while Isla’s students filter out of the studio. She smiles at me as I approach.
“Class was awesome today,” I say. I make a big deal of joining the tips of my index fingers with the tips of my thumbs in an exaggerated yoga gesture. “I’m totally blissed out or whatever.”
She shakes her head, resisting the smile playing at her lips. “Thanks, hun.” She wraps an arm around my shoulder and leads me to her tiny office. “We have this awesome new ginger-charcoal matcha tea,” she says excitedly. “Wanna try it? You’ll love it.”
I crinkle my nose at her. “Uh, I think I’ll pass.” I sink into the colorful velvet armchair across from her battered, hand-carved desk.
She chuckles as she puts teabags into two cups and adds water from her glass teapot. “Earl grey,” she says setting a cup in front of me before sitting behind the desk. The mess of spreadsheets and receipts and hand-scribbled notes on the table are in stark contrast with the earthy, bohemian style of the room. Isla looks at the documents and groans. “This is really the last thing I want to deal with right now.”
“Most people don’t like dealing with their accounting,” I say sympathetically, “but it’s a necessary evil. Take Keeland, for example. He let three years worth of stuff accumulate and now it’s taking forever to get everything sorted out. I’d bet he wishes he’d dealt with it all sooner.”
Her eyes light up. “Speaking of Keeland, did he tell you he’s been coming to my Wednesday morning hatha class?”
I toss my head back and chortle in surprise. “What?”
She nods. “Yup. The ladies love having him there. I swear attendance of the class has doubled and now everybody’s fighting for a spot at the front of the room so he can get a good look at their ‘assets’.”
We both roar with laughter at that. “Well, it looks like Master Kee is good for business,” I say.
“He definitely is.” Isla leans forward on her elbows and peers eagerly at me. “So, tell me – what’s going on with the two of you?”
I sit back in my chair and try to appear aloof. “What do you mean?”
She grunts. “Don’t act ignorant with me, Sammie. Are you two still screwing? Is it becoming serious?” She narrows her eyes and smirks. “Should I be expecting you two to show up at next weekend’s Tantric Yoga for Lovers Retreat?”
I laugh. “Yes, we’re still ‘screwing’. No, it’s not becoming serious. And, hell no, we won’t be at your weird, couples’ yoga ménage orgy retreat or whatever.”
I’ve recently given up on the idea of trying to resist having sex with Keeland. It’s pointless. Our chemistry is off the charts and he makes my body feel things I never imagined possible.
But a relationship is out of the question. Not only because Daniel would kill us both, but also because Keeland Masters is not the kind of guy I’m willing to put my heart out there for again. I did it once and it backfired in a disastrous way. So, we’ll keep ‘screwing’. But that’s about it.
Isla folds her arms across her chest and gives me a disappointed look. “Sammie – would you please stop getting in the way of your own happiness? We both know that you have feelings for Keeland. You’ve always had feelings for Keeland.”
I fold my arms, too. “I don’t have feelings for Keeland. Besides, how do you know that he wants a relationship?”
“Because he’s a great guy and I know he knows how awesome you are. Of course he wants a relationship. But, you’re stubborn and you’ve got a huge chip on your shoulder where he’s concerned. You act like you’ve got something to prove.”
“Something like what?”
“How good you are at resisting him.”
I scoff, looking away. “You’re ridiculous.” I stare blankly at the oriental tapestry hanging on the wall behind her. “We’re having fun. It feels good. Simple. I really don’t feel the need to psychoanalyze it.”
Her face goes serious. “You two might have something special, Sammie. Something that can withstand the test of time. Something other people would die for.” I instantly know exactly where she’s coming from.
Isla married Zayn Wilkinson straight out of high school. To the outside world, they looked like the perfect couple, until it abruptly came crashing down last winter. She and I don’t talk about it, but the subject is always there in the background, ghosting her words and adding morbid undertones to every conversation.
Luckily, I’m saved by a knock at the door. Blakely, Isla’s younger sister and trusty assistant, sticks her head into the office, a rush of fiery red curls spilling across her face. She speaks in a hushed voice. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Byrne is here for his massage and he insists on having you.”
Isla looks at the documents on her desk and slaps her hand to her forehead. “Shit – we haven’t even started looking at this mess yet, have we?”
I give her a reassuring smile, all too happy to put an end to our little, off-topic meeting. “Let me take this stuff home. I’ll look it over and we can chat about it over the phone.”
She looks at me with relief on her face. “That’s an awesome idea.” She turns to Blakely. “Can you help Sammie organize this stuff and give her a ride home?”
Blakely nods, stepping into the room. Isla tosses her the car keys before rounding her desk and popping a kiss against my forehead. “I owe you, Sammie.” She says as she rushes out.
I laugh. “Just stop talking to me about Keeland and we’re even.”