Page 138 of Risking the Pucking Defense

“I’m…uh…wearing one of your T-shirts and no underwear,” I point out.

“Right?” he asks, unable to see the issue. “Your downward dog is going to be fucking incredible.”

I raise both of my brows.

“If you want me naked, I can think of easier ways than getting me to do Pilates with you.”

His gaze drops down my body, his eyes so dark that anyone would think I’m already bare for him.

“I’ll switch to an easier class,” he offers. “Or straight-up yoga.” I roll my eyes, pretending not to be on board with this.

“I’m gonna need a drink.

“I got you,” he says, hopping to his feet, marching to his kitchen, and pulling the fridge open. “Water okay?”

“Sure,” I agree, taking a moment to look around his apartment. I didn’t really get a chance last night with my emotional breakdown and all.

It’s small, but it has everything he could need. A small kitchen, space for a couch and a large TV. But most of the space is taken up with exercise equipment. He’s got a bike, a rowing machine, a weight bench, and a whole stand of weights of all sizes. He clearly spends a lot of time working on his fitness, even when he’s not at the arena.

I reach for his cell and type in my favorite instructor before selecting a tutorial.

“Thanks,” I say, accepting the bottle and twisting the top. “How’s your balance?” I ask after taking a sip.

He narrows his eyes at me. “I think we’re about to find out.”

With a chuckle, I get into position and try to forget about the fact that I’m doing this in only a T-shirt.

We move seamlessly side by side through the start of the practice, but as the moves get more challenging, Hayden begins wobbling about.

“Engage that core you’ve been working so hard on,” I tease as he tries to right himself back into warrior one.

“I’ve got this,” he says, getting himself into position just as we shift to another.

He groans but does as he’s told.

We’re almost at the end of the video when the instructor moves into Natarajasana, or dancer pose.

“Oh, she has to be joking. I can’t do that,” Hayden grunts as I reach back for my leg. “How … how is that even possible?”

“I used to dance,” I explain.

“Yeah, well. I didn’t. I’m shit at figure skating, too,” he mutters as he attempts the pose. I focus on my breathing as I keep my awareness and my pose strong.

“Damn, I want to see that.”

“Trust me, you don’t. I’m like a baby elephant out there.”

I giggle, trying desperately to keep my balance.

“Shit,” Hayden hisses.

I glance over a second too late. He topples, crashing straight into me.

“Oh shit,” I gasp as I begin falling. But while his balance might be questionable, his reaction time is fucking incredible, because he has me in his arms and manages to twist himself beneath me long before we hit the floor.

“Are you okay?” I ask in a rush as he pushes my messy hair from my face and gazes up at me.

He smiles up at me, his eyes twinkling.