Page 81 of All This Time
And I’m not going to give up this fight until she wants that too.
***
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Henley mutters beside me.
I lean closer to him and lower my voice as we walk to the front entrance of Hart Winery. “What’s the matter, Mr. Adventurous? You scared of a little yoga?”
“Yes, I am. What if I stretch the wrong way and tear my ball sack open?”
“I’m fairly certain that won’t happen.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we aren’t going to be doing the fucking splits, Henley.”
Footsteps sound behind us, and when I turn around, I find Elliot just a few feet behind us. “I’m not late, am I?”
“Nope.”
Elliot takes in my gym clothes and Henley’s athletic attire before staring down at his three-piece suit. “Why are you guys dressed like that? I thought we were gonna have some drinks and hang out?”
Henley shoots a look over at me. “You didn’t tell him why we’re at the winery tonight?”
Wrapping my arm around his shoulder, I continue to move us through the courtyard and that’s when I see the realization on Elliot’s face. “Oh fuck.”
“We’re still gonna have some drinks. We’re just going to do yoga first.”
Elliot glares at me. “I could kill you right now.”
“Well, if you do that, then you won’t have a best man.”
Henley raises his hand in the air like a fucking kindergartener. “I volunteer as tribute.”
“Not sure you’re using that right, Henley,” I say as I guide us to a spot on the grass near the front, but off to the side. I find three mats next to each other and drop my water bottle on one of them.
“I can’t do yoga in a fucking suit, Fletcher.” Elliot loosens the tie around his neck.
“Just do the best you can.”
Henley groans. “First, you cock block me the other night, and now this?” He takes a step closer to me and lowers his voice. “If this interferes with my sex life too, we’re going to have some words.”
“Honestly, boys…this might help your sex life. Yoga increases your blood flow and flexibility.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” Elliot replies, crossing his arms over his chest.
The truth is, I’ve done yoga throughout the course of my football career, but not consistently. Yoga fucking hurts. The first time I triedit, I thought I was having a heart attack because I couldn’t breathe after just fifteen minutes.
So, the only reason I’m here tonight volunteering for this torture is to support Laney, and the winery, of course. Putting any significant length of time and space between us right now is the last thing I want to do. Plus, seeing Laney in spandex is icing on the cake.
“I’m not a professional by any means, but I promise, it’s not that bad.”Lies, Fletcher. All lies.Slapping both of my friends on the shoulder, I say, “I’m going to use the bathroom before it starts. Don’t lose our spots.”
Henley grumbles. “No promises.”
As I cross the courtyard, more people filter in. But the one person I’m looking for is nowhere to be found.
“Fletcher?” George Hart turns a corner and almost runs into me.
“Hey, Mr. Hart.”
