Page 104 of The Sidekick

I’ve seen her twice. Twice. This is insane.

Even knowing that isn’t helping me.

By the time Tuesday comes, I’m nervous, and I can’t hide it. Coworkers are asking me if I’m ok. One even said I looked ready to puke.

I end up in my tiny office meditating to try and get my head on straight. It’s only partially effective. When the alarm for class goes off, I’m in such a rush I trip getting up.

Finally seeing her again washes away all of the insanity, and my shoulders drop in relief. I don’t know why I’m so terrified she’s going to run from me, but that’s eighty percent of my worry if I introduce myself. I’m not going to be able to hide my crazy for long.

I call out for everyone to get out of the doorway so she can come inside, and her eyes meet mine. I feel a fist grip my chest and yank hard.

She sees me. She finally fucking sees me. Her expression cycles through a few emotions while I watch. Surprised, then shy, and suddenly afraid.

Fuck, what just happened? I open my mouth to demand she tell me what put that look on her face. I’m cut off by a student as she mumbles an apology and steps out of her way.

“It’s no problem. I was the one spacing out.” Her voice is sweet and quiet as she comforts the woman, sending a shiver down my spine.

I get everything set up and glance around. She’s so far in the back I can hardly see her. Fuck, I forgot to get my contacts again. I catch her looking to either side of her, probably wondering what I’m squinting at, and I turn away, fumbling with my phone to pull up the playlist for this class. Time to set my plan in motion.

No one up front looks excited that we’re going to be doing more advanced moves. Only Tera seems happy about it.

This is the worst idea I’ve ever had. All to see if I can get my hands on a woman. If she had any idea about the shit I’m thinking, I would have a restraining order slapped on my ass so fast.

She seems really distracted as I start calling out the more difficult poses. They’re only slight adjustments to what they have been learning, so it starts out easy enough. She never hesitates to move, but she’s watching the people in front of her with a tiny smile, her eyes sparkling as I walk around.

She’s not really paying attention to me. Whatever is going through her head right now is at least keeping her happy and relaxed. She never hesitates to follow my directions, but her lack of attention is grating. She didn’t see me. Not like I see her. Fuck.

As it gets progressively harder, the rest of the class struggles while Tera easily follows my commands, drawing my attention even as I help the other students. A few give up entirely and pout off to the side, sipping their water. I don’t think any of them realized that Tera was even there until today.

She never needs help. I’m torn between pride and irritation. She couldn’t be imperfect even once. The feeling fades as I watch her enjoy herself, and I feel a smile slip free. I can’t help it, even if a few of the women begin to glance between us in suspicion.

As I lead them through the cool down, all of the ladies who gave up on the poses rejoin us, but they’re whispering and looking back at Tera. My brows furrow for a moment before I resume my placid smile, pretending nothing is wrong.

Big fucking mistake.

We finish, and before I can finish saying Namaste, she grabs her things and runs. Her shoulders are hunched, and her face is flushed in a splotchy pattern like she’s about to cry. She doesn’t slow as she reaches the exit, escaping like the hounds of hell are biting her ass.

The struggle of my Maman’s teachings to treat a woman like a lady is thrown out the window in an instant.

“What the fuck was that?” I demand and stare down at all of the startled faces below me.

Silence reigns as they give me shocked looks. I’ve never raised my voice to any of them, no matter what shenanigans they’ve pulled to get my attention.

“Explain to me why she just ran out of here.”

“She was showing off to get your attention,” a blond frowns at me. “You don’t like that kind of thing, so I figured I’d help you out.”

Rage blindsides me out of nowhere. What the fuck did she say to her? “This is how you treat people? You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Maybe if you didn’t stare at her like you want to rail her in front of us, there wouldn’t be a problem,” a mouthy woman pipes up from behind her friends, and I see red.

“Are we dating?” I gesture from my chest to where she’s standing. “Do you have any right to treat someone I’m interested in like shit? Does me standing up here trying to teach a class mean I’m yours? No, it fucking doesn’t. Get out of my class. Anyone else that feels the same way can get the fuck out too.”

I’m definitely getting fired. Good thing I already have her number and address memorized because I doubt anyone is going to let my ass back in the building after this one. I stomp away from their guilty and enraged looks.

Here, I can vent, and it’s just paper. You can throw it away, burn it, crumple it, and pretend you’re a basketball player. In person, it’s something different. Plus, I have to think about what I want to say when I’m writing so I’m not flying off the handle. I consider that a bonus.

I don’t want you to stay because I’m demanding it. If you did, it would break us even more.

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