Page 39 of Kneel with the King
“I’m Avaline,” she adds. “Ava, if it’s easier.”
The name lands like a hammer to the ribs.
“Ari’s sister,” I murmur. Ari—my ex. I’d seen pictures when I met Ari’s parents. I didn’t know much about her sisters because they lived out of state, and though they were all similar ages, their upbringing meant they weren’t very close as adults. She didn’t talk about them very much, but then again, we never dove deep into our pasts thanks to me being too busy at work to really take our relationship as serious as Ari deserved.
Her smile flickers just slightly, then returns. “Yes. I recognized your name on the roster for this week.”
Jesus Christ.
She turns before I can ask anything else, kneeling gracefully by the incense bowl at the front of the room. “Let’s get started.”
I walk over and settle onto the mat next to King. As I exhale and try to remember how breathing works, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye, just inside the door of the studio.
A man with broad shoulders, built like a mercenary. Fitted gray shirt, tattoos, and muscles for days… black ink that snakes up the side of his neck. He has brown hair, weeks-old scruff, and piercing green eyes. He’s standing with his arms crossed, watching the room, and something about him gives me the creeps.
Ava begins by telling us to lie down on our mats. I follow directions without looking at King.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ava guiding people into position, and then she walks over to King and me.
“Maybe we could get a coffee or something later today?” she asks me, touching my feet and bending them slightly, which stretches my calves.
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
“Your partner, too,” she says, smiling at King as she does the same to his feet.
“Thanks. We’d love to,” King answers for both of us.
Fuck, what if she tells Ari and Maddox about King?
The man by the door clears his throat loudly, cutting through the tinkling music.
“Who’s the bouncer?” King asks.
“That’s just Spencer,” Ava says casually. “He’s with me.”
“With you?” King asks.
“I had a stalker situation last year,” she says, like she’s discussing the weather. “The resort insisted I hire someone to… keep an eye out.” She barely contains an eye roll, and I have to stifle a laugh at how much she reminds me of Ari.
Seems they both inherited feisty personalities.
“He looks like he wants to kill everyone in this room,” I joke.
Ava laughs. “Because he probably does.”
Before I can figure out how to respond tothat, Ava pats me on the shoulder and moves on to adjusting the next couple.
“Why are you so tense? I would’ve assumed you’d be relaxed right now… what, with your release earlier,” King murmurs, low enough for only me to hear.
“Screw you.”
He only chuckles in response. I close my eyes, trying to dispel all of the images of King’s feral expression when he caught me masturbating earlier.
Was he… jealous? Angry?
“Next time, ask.”
Ask what, exactly? For help?
