Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Annabelle raises an eyebrow. “Would you actually?”
I smile despite myself. “Those big, sweaty muscles? Swinging axes in the sun? Uh—yes.”
She grins. “Yeah, me too.”
I laugh and take a sip of my drink. “I’m only human, after all.”
And I haven’t gotten laid in . . . Lord.
I have no idea how long—which isn’t a good sign.
Annabelle and I turn to ogle the group again. “They’re pretty to look at—I’ll give them that. Even if they have the combined brainpower of a light bulb.”
“Hey, we never said they had to be smart.” I watch as one of the guys flexes his arms for no reason. “Just, you know—aesthetically pleasing,” I tease, throwing her words back at her.
We laugh, watching for another minute before turning back to our drinks. They seem harmless, but it’s like watching a pack of overgrown puppies try to act tough.
“Anyway.” Annabelle sighs. “Enough about me. What’s going on with you?”
My eyes dart to the men in the room, then back to my bestie.
“Well.” I sip from my glass, savoring the cheap, delicious wine as it slides down my throat. “Those big dudes, mostly. I’m doing a few group sessions down by the harbor.”
“Um. Can I come? And why didn’t you say anything before?”
I laugh. “Of course you can.”
She and I are both single and always ready to mingle, although to be fair, she and I are actually choosy about who we date.
And sleep with.
I’m not in a rush to start a family. In fact, I’m still on the fence about having kids of my own. But I would love to be in a relationship and all the things that go along with it.
Sex.
Sex.
And laughter, obviously.
Annabelle nudges me out of my daze. “Girl, you’re about to live the dream. Teaching hot guys at sunrise? You’ll be coach and eye candy, and I’m officially jealous.”
Yeah right. Between the two of us, my friend has far better luck with men—mostly because she’s bold and never lets an opportunity pass her by.
Oh, and she’s currently hooking up with the mayor’s son, Tim.
He looks exactly like a “Tim” and acts like one too—cocky, clean cut, and convinced he’s the most interesting guy in the room. It’s nothing serious—a casual fling to get over Mike—but she’s getting some action out of it and the occasional free meal.
As much as my friend insists she’d love to swap places and escape her situationship, I think she secretly loves having sex with the mayor’s son.
I, on the other hand, have the dating instincts of a gnat.
More than one person has told me I wouldn’t recognize a man flirting with me, and honestly? They’re right. I’m always the last one to realize when someone is romantically interested in me.
I smirk, swirling my glass before taking a sip. “We’ll see how dreamy it is after tomorrow’s first class. Something tells me they’re going to spend more time falling over each other than doing yoga.”
But I can’t lie—I’m excited, and it will be fun to watch them fumbling around.
“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “You know they’ll be coming to gawk at the pretty yoga teacher. I bet half of them don’t know the difference between downward dog and a dog pile.”
“A dog pile of shit?” I laugh, nodding. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t take it seriously. I already feel like it’ll be wrangling a herd of cats.”
“Oddly enough that’s what my mother says about us.”
We dissolve into laughter, and I can’t help but glance back at the players clustered around the bar, their boisterous energy filling the room. One of them, oblivious to his own size, attempts an awkward spin, nearly taking out a neighboring table.
“Tell me what else is going on,” Annabelle begs. “Are you back on the dating apps?”
I hate that she’s bringing this up, and groan. Ugh. “I tried the Kissmet app for all of twenty minutes before I realized every man on it was someone we already know.”
Annabelle grins. “That, my friend, is what we call a cosmic joke.”
“Right? It was like scrolling through my own personal nightmare. Or our yearbook. I’d swipe, and bam—Taylor from high school. Or the man who did my oil change. Then I saw the kid who works at the bank.” I shudder at the thought. “After that, I deleted it. The universe is telling me to put the app on pause.”
I can’t escape.
I give my glass a swirl, eyeballing what’s left of my wine. “I really am an idiot for not hooking up with tourists. They come, they go, no strings attached.” My hand waves flippantly through the air.
Annabelle nods sagely. “True. Most of them are probably either married, old—or here for bachelor parties. It’s slim pickings even on a good day.”
“Exactly,” I say. “You’d think living in a small town by the water would attract a few eligible men. But no. The only new faces we see are here for a weekend of questionable decisions before heading back to their real lives.”