Page 55 of Rookie Move
The class progressed to sun salutations, and Georgia managed not to laugh when Leo fell out of the transition into downward dog. It was entirely distracting to have him in front of her, though. His reverse warrior made his T-shirt ride up, giving Georgia an oblique view of his happy trail as his muscled torso twisted to the side...
Turn away from the light, she ordered herself.
But there was something about the warm room and her increasingly limber body which began to make her a little crazy. As her body moved and stretched in close proximity to Leo’s, it took only a short leap of imagination to reposition them in fun and interesting ways. His long arms put every perfect muscle on display when he moved, and when Ari invited the class to “find your center,” Georgia felt like begging Leo to find hers.
It was a long hour, and when the minutes of privatemeditation and visualization arrived at the end, Georgia’s visualizations were much more stimulating than usual.
When the class finally ended and Leo turned around, he gave her a look hot enough to heat the place for a bikram class.
Yowza. None of that. Georgia rolled up her yoga mat and beat a fast retreat back to her room for some alone time. It was bad enough that she’d have to take him to a naked photo shoot in a few hours.
A tepid shower helped. Then she sat down to her overstuffed inbox, which proved to be the perfect libido-killing distraction. It was only nine in the morning, and already there were fires to put out at work. She took a minute to call Becca to check in. “Hey, lady!”
“Hey, babe! How was yoga?”
“Well, I think I’m ready to start dating again.”
Becca was momentarily shocked into silence. “Really. That’s awesome, sweetie! I need to say up front that I deserve details—juicy, juicy details.”
“Good luck with that. Okay. Who should I date?”
There was another silence on the line. “I thought we were talking about Leo Trevi. Georgia? Who is this?”
“Bec! I can’t date aplayer. I mean—professionally it’s a horrible idea. And there is zero privacy in the clubhouse. Can you imagine?”
“So it’s not the ideal setup. Buthe’sperfect, right? And that’s what matters?”
Georgia sighed. “I’m really rusty, though. Out of practice. Atrophied. I need a warm-up date. Someone to limber me up.”
Becca laughed. “There’s nothing like dating a guy you don’t actuallyliketo limber a girl up. And a year ago you swore off dating apps for good. So where are we going to find this warmer-upper man?”
Those were good points. “I’m screwed.”
“No,” Becca insisted. “But you shouldgetscrewed. Tonight if possible. By a hot rookie forward.”
“Don’t think I’m not tempted.”
“So, God. Just do it.”
“Really, Bec? Of all the people on the planet, that one is the—” Shealmostsaidthe scariest choice. But Georgia didn’t get scared. “—the riskiest one.”
“Risky how? I thought you dumped him.”
“Oh, I did. But not because I wanted to. I was just accepting the inevitable. He fell out of love with me, but you can’t dump the weepy rape victim. So I did it for him.”
“How nice of you,” Becca said, her tone just barely on the right side of patronizing. “So what the hell was that kiss, then? I saw that boy make his move. Hell, everyone saw it.”
That was true. And confusing as hell. Then there was yesterday’s shenanigans... “Maybe he wants the last word,” Georgia suggested. “Leo is competitive. I dumped him, and now he wants a turn.”
“Oh my God. You are the most cynical girl alive.”
Was she? It hadn’t always been true, but being a rape survivor at eighteen could do that to a girl. “I hate this. I hate that he’s making me think about everything that happened in the past. Two weeks ago I didn’t have to look at his ridiculously handsome face and wonder if he was attracted to me. And then wonder why he stopped being attracted to me.”
“You’re right, there’s no cure for that kind of torture. Oh wait. What ifyou asked him?”
No can do. “I’ll take it under advisement.” But seriously—she and Leo were never having that conversation. It was ten times worse than asking a man,Do I look fat in these jeans?Before her attack they’d had sex constantly. Afterward he’d taken to giving her dry pecks on the cheek. As if he couldn’t retreat fast enough. Sure, he’d hold her on the couch when she was sad, which was all the time. But if she ran her hand down his chest and left it tauntingly on his inner thigh, he’d pick it up and move it elsewhere.
His body language said,Yuck. And she’d died a little inside every time he’d pulled away from her.
