Page 104 of The Love Playbook

“Who says I’m avoiding you?”

“We had a date, remember?”

“That was never set in stone,” she says, looking anywhere but at me.

“I beg to differ. Regardless, you owe me a date.”

“I thought you said that’s not how relationships work?”

“And I thought we moved past all of this hot-and-cold bullshit after our make-out sesh in your dorm room two weeks ago. Not forgetting the night you waited up for me after my away game when you?”

Charlottes slaps a hand over my mouth, silencing me with a hissedShhhh.

Grinning, I lick her hand, and she yelps, dropping her hand.

“I like this,” Liz says, motioning between us.

“Don’t encourage him,” Charlotte grumbles.

“Listen, I don’t know what this is,” I say, waving a finger out in front of her, “but you’re done with the avoidance tactics. You’re coming with me.” I reach out and take her hand while she protests, dragging her feet toward the door.

“What? Where are we going?”

“You owe me a date, and I’ve come to collect your debt.” I wink, and a flush creeps to her cheeks.

“Okay, but, right now?” She glances at her friend, her dark eyes pleading for help, but Liz just raises her textbook in front of her face, sinking further into her chair.

Basking in triumph, I give her arm a little tug. “Yep. Right now,” I confirm.

Charlotte’s gaze bounces from me to her outfit when she releases a resigned sigh. “Fine, but shouldn’t I at least change?”

“Nope. Your outfit is perfect.”

She glances down at her hoodie and leggings with a dubious expression before lifting her gaze to mine. “Where are we doing on this date?”

“Let’s just say we’re going to do a little stretching, get hot and sweaty, maybe even get a little exercise in, all while relieving a little stress.”

She narrows her eyes. “Sex isn’t a date.”

I scoff. “Lettie, do I look like the kind of man who would expect sex on the first date?”

She purses her lips.

“Don’t answer that.” I point. “Though I’d love nothing more than sexy times with you, that’s not what this is. But since you doubt me and you’re intent on being a smartass, you’re just going to have to wait and see.”

“Fine,” she grumbles as I pull her out the door, “but this better be good.”

Twenty minutes later, we step out of the chilly October night and into the warm interior of Om Sweet Om where the soft scent of lavender and the low hum of instrumental music greets us. The last of the fading sun filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a serene glow over the lobby that instantly relaxes me.

“You brought me to a yoga studio?” Charlotte asks, glancing around the place.

I shrug. “It’s what you’re into. Besides, I figured you could use a little inner peace.”

Her eyes meet mine, and the brown deepens to rich espresso as she releases a shaky exhale, then peers around the room while I watch the tension in her shoulders melt away.

Chapter 24

CHARLOTTE

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