Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Preparing for you to kill me today,” he joked, making me chuckle. Zion was new to Pilates. He was doing well, but yeah, it was a struggle.
“You’ll thank me later.” I winked.
“I’m not sure about that.”
The room was filling up, so Zion went to find a spot. We started out slow with a warm-up, before progressing to more difficult exercises, my muscles stretching and my limbs bending and moving in ways that invigorated me.
The hour was up before I realized it. A few people chatted with me for a minute, asking questions and stuff like that, before filing out. I cleaned the equipment they’d just wiped down because I was obsessive that way.
Every few seconds my eyes darted over to the desk in the corner, which had my phone on it, and, okay, what could it hurt to see his reply before I finished today’s classes? Hell, maybe he was busy and hadn’t answered, which made my gut twist because ridiculously, I didn’t want him to have more of a life than me.
“Fuck it,” I groaned, walking to the desk. I plopped down in the chair and logged in to the email account again.
Yep. He’d replied.
In Love with My Best Friend,
I thought you said you didn’t lie?
Anonymous
Who the fuck was this guy? My pulse kicked up, like I was in the middle of an intense workout. Forget that the dude was right and I’d lied about smiling. He sure as shit didn’t know he was right, and I sure as shit didn’t plan on telling him.
Anonymous,
I’m under the impression you think you’re funny? I’m not sure who’s told you that, but I’m afraid they’re the liars, not me. It can be tough sometimes to accept these things about ourselves, but everything you’ve shown me up until this point tells me you’re nothing if not conceited, so it might actually be healthy to deflate your head a bit. I’m sure the headache has been brutal.
ILWMBF
ILWMBF,
The acronym is cute! It’s almost like we’re friends now. My very own nickname for you. I’m touched.
My head is fine. You seem very concerned with my anatomy.
How bad does it annoy you that I’m fairly certain you were smiling? That you’re super proud of your response because you feel like it’ll take the attention off the fact that you were, indeed, grinning cheesily at me.
Admit it. You like me.
You hate liking me, but you do. Or at least, you think I’m fun, and you’re having fun with me. It’s okay, I’m having fun with you too, and I don’t think I like it any more than you do. I’m sure we wouldn’t get along in real life. You’d be stuffy, and I’d be fabulous. It would be a disaster. At least we have our emails!
Smiles,
Anon
(Now I have a cute nickname too!)
I stood up and began pacing. My brain was spinning, trying to come up with the perfect response, while I was also struck a bit stupid because oh my God, this guy had gotten under my skin. How had he gotten under my skin? He was right, beyond doubt. We wouldn’t get along, and I didn’t want to get along with someone like him, but this back-and-forth was…fuck…it was fun.
Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!
“Boo!” My heart jumped out of my chest, and my phone tumbled to the floor.
“Jesus Christ.” I turned around, realizing that the voice was my best friend and not an ax-murderer. And what was with that saying, anyway? Did people murder others with an ax that often? Or did it mean something else? I filed that question away for Google later. “You scared the shit out of me,” I told Danny.
“I’m seeing that. I said your name twice. You were really out of it. I saw your face in the mirror, and it was a cross between giddy crush and Oh my God, I think I’m gonna puke. Were you texting with someone?”
Okay…I was seriously beginning to hate Anonymous more and more. He not only had me being weird, but he had Danny seeing this weirdness in me too. There was absolutely no way I could have a crush on this guy. I didn’t know him. Danny had to be mistaken—that was definitely more my vomit face than my crush face.
“Eli?”
“Oh, sorry. Nothing. I mean, no one. I mean, no; no, I wasn’t texting.” I bent down, grabbed my phone, and shut that baby down—all the way down, as in turning the power off. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “I thought I’d stop in and see if you had time to go to lunch. I know I was a dick the other night when I bailed on you for a piece of ass.”
Well, shit. This was a plus. I knew he would see the error of his ways. This was Danny; me and Danny. We didn’t let hookups or guys get between us. “I have one other class to teach. It starts in fifteen minutes. After that I have a break for a while. Do you have time?”