Natalia
The yoga outfit wasn’t bad. At least I wasn’t walking home in a black dress. This walk of shame looked as if I had gone for an early exercise class. No shame in that.
I had lifted Sam’s heavy arm and slid to the floor, dressing in the darkness of the room. I didn’t want to wake him. I was worried he would go back on what we agreed in the bar. I didn’t want him to call or know where I lived. I definitely didn’t want to tell him I was a professional cheerleader.
It was better this way. I’d pretend he was in town on business and would never be back in Austin. It would be easier. I didn’t have his number, either. We made an agreement, and my leaving before he awakened was the only way I knew how to stick to it.
Because if I woke up in his arms and took one look in his gorgeous eyes, I’d undo all of it.
I’d program my number in his phone. I’d tell him my horrid history with the ballet and the Goddesses. I’d tell him I loved pasta even though I shouldn’t. That I loved scary movies and hated football. I’d tell him my last name or even my middle name. If I had stayed and looked in those eyes, I’d have told him anything he asked.
Last night I had given him something I’d never given to another man. There wasn’t a name for it. It was physical and primal, but it was deeper than any connection I’d ever felt. It was the reason I had to leave. It was the reason I snuck out. It was the reason I was questioning every step I made on the sidewalk.
For a little while, I knew where he was. He was
in the Austin Grand Hotel in room 621. But I didn’t know when he was checking out or where he was going. I had to drive home and stay there until I knew for certain it was past check-out time. I had to force myself to put the key in the ignition and drive home. Because if I didn’t, I’d race back to the hotel and break the promise I made. And as much as I wanted to see Sam again, I didn’t want to break a promise to him. It was the main thing holding me back. Right now, it was the only reason my foot was on the gas pedal.
I didn’t wear a watch. Instead, I checked my phone a hundred times before noon. I did a load of laundry and completed an hour’s worth of stretching. I would do the entire routine again before the game, but I had to find something to do to keep my mind off last night.
I jumped when I heard my phone ring, and for a quick second, let myself think it was Sam calling. I scowled at myself. It was Heather.
“Hey, girl.”
“Hey, what’s up?”
She laughed. “I saw you leave last night. Just checking on you.” I knew she wanted a juicy story.
I ran water in the sink to rinse out my bowl from breakfast. “How about you? Looked like you were having fun.”
The truth was I hadn’t paid attention to what Heather was doing. I spent my time talking to Sam and making a stupid decision. I wasn’t a very good friend.
“Oh my God, we had the best time. Aren’t you glad you went?”
“Yes.” I threw my bowl in the dishwasher. “Now I don’t have any guilt about that tradition.”
“You’re turning into a real Goddess. You know that?”
“Don’t remind me,” I groaned.
Last night, I was like all the other girls. I went home with a random bar guy. True, he was an incredibly hot random guy, but I had let the environment and the neon lights influence me. I convinced myself I was being rebellious and free, but when I thought about it, I was the same as my squad partners.
I hooked up in a bar. I had a one-night stand with someone I had barely known an hour.
It didn’t help that he had a rock-hard body, sexy voice, and eyes that…
“Nat? Did you hear me?”
“Oh, what? Sorry, I’m doing dishes.” I slammed the door shut and started the wash cycle.
“I asked you what time you’re going to be at the stadium for warm up. I thought we could run through some new steps. I talked to the choreographer about it.”
“Oh, that.” I sighed. “I guess I’ll get there at five. I need to do some extra work on my hamstring.”
“Is it giving you problems again?”
“The same. It’s better if I keep it warmed up. Less chance of reinjuring it.”
Heather was the only one who bothered to ask about my leg. She was also the only one who knew the extent of my injury. I didn’t want the others to think I wasn’t physically capable of being a Goddess.