Page 3 of Ice Cold Chemistry
“Just enjoying the view.” His eyes travel slowly from my legs to my chest before reaching my face. “Gotta say, when they told us yoga was mandatory, I didn’t realize it came with… perks.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I keep moving. Don’t engage. Don’t give him the reaction he wants. I breathe in and release the breath slowly.
“It is a compliment.” He sits up, leaning back on his hands. “Do you do private sessions? Because I’ve got some positions I’d love to try—”
“That’s enough.” My voice comes out sharperthan I intended. The room goes quiet.
Grayson’s eyebrows rise. “Whoa. Relax. I’m just joking around.”
“I’m here to do a job.” I meet his gaze steadily, even though my heart is hammering. “If you’re not interested in participating, that’s fine. But I’d appreciate it if you kept the commentary to yourself.”
He holds my stare for a beat. Two. Then he smirks and shrugs. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart?The word lands like a slap.
I want to say something. I want to put him in his place, make him feel as small as he’s trying to make me feel. But twenty-plus players are watching, and this is my first day, and I can’t afford to make a scene.
So I smile tightly and move on. “Next stretch, left leg extended, right ankle crossed over the left knee.”
The rest of the session passes in a blur. I go through the motions, making corrections, offering encouragement, but part of me is somewhere else entirely. Grayson doesn’t say anything else, but I can feel him watching me. That smug smile never quite leaves his face.
When I finally dismiss the group, the players file out faster than I expected. A few offer polite thanks. Most avoid eye contact.
Zayden lingers by the door. “Hey. You okay?”
“I’m fine.” The lie comes automatically. “First day jitters.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he nods. “Reed’s an ass. Don’t let him get to you.”
“I won’t.”
He gives me one last look—concerned, maybe, or maybe just awkward—and then he’s gone too.
I wait until the room is empty before I let myself exhale.
This is fine. It was one guy. One comment. I handled it. I shut him down. It’s over.
Except it doesn’t feel over. It feels like the beginning of something that might become athing. A thing I don’t want.
I grab my phone and text Tori before I can talk myself out of it.
Me:First session done.
Tori:AND?? How was it??
I stare at the screen. I should tell her. She’d understand. But she also has her clinic now. Her new life. A wedding to plan. She doesn’t need to worry about me.
Me:Good! The guys are hilariously inflexible. Going to have my work cut out for me.
Tori:Ha! Give them hell. Drinks soon to celebrate?
Me:Definitely.
I pocket my phone and start collecting the foam rollers, stacking them in neat rows.
My reflection catches in the mirror along the wall. I look the same as I did this morning. Professional. Put together. Like someone who has her life figured out.
Day one, I remind myself. It’s just day one. It’ll get easier. Besides, this is my fresh start, and I’m not letting anyone take it from me.
