Hot & Heavy (Lightning 2)

Which is why, when my instinct for self-preservation belatedly kicks in, I don’t even try to fight it. Instead, I just turn around and flee back toward the safety of my office.

Chapter 9

Shawn

Seriously? I just found Sage after three days of moping around about her and the first thing she does when she sees me is run in the opposite direction? Seriously? What. The. Hell?

Maybe I should just get back in my car and forget all about her—and yoga. After all, it’s not like she can make herself any clearer. She literally ran down that hallway, and away from me, like a pack of hellhounds were nipping at her heels.

And can I just say again? What. The. Hell? I’ve never had this reaction on a woman before and I’ve got to say, I really don’t like it.

I think back over what happened Saturday night, try to figure out if I somehow did something to freak her out enough to send her hightailing it back down that hallway. I mean, I had a great time with her, and she seemed to feel the same way—right up until I asked for her number. Which didn’t seem unreasonable considering what we spent half an hour doing in the back of that bar.

I thought she’d booked it out of there fast Saturday night, but her mad dash for her car was nothing compared to what she just pulled.

Again, I think about heading back to my car and walking away. But my back is hurting like hell after my early morning run and Emerson promises Sage can help. Plus, I want to talk to her at least once more, want to make sure I didn’t do anything to upset her. To be honest, I’m not used to women reacting to me like this and it kind of freaks me out. Makes me worry that I somehow did something to hurt her.

With that thought in mind, I start pounding on the yoga studio’s glass front door. “Come on, Sage. Open the door. I really am just here for the yoga.”

She doesn’t answer, and she doesn’t come back.

Fuck. I’ve never felt so much like a stalker in my life, and it’s really, really not a good feeling. “Sage, please. Can we at least talk for a minute?”

She still doesn’t answer, and I don’t know what else to do. I guess I could text Emerson, but that seems a little ridiculous under the circumstances. Besides, I’ve never been one to force my attention on a woman, and I sure as shit am not about to start now.

By the time I give up and turn away, I’m pissed off and more than a little worried. Sage struck me as the most adult person in the bar the other night. The fact that she’s acting like a child now makes me wonder just what the hell I did wrong.

I’m halfway back to my car when I hear her husky, distinctive voice call my name. I turn around so fast I nearly get whiplash. “Sage?”

“I’m sorry. I was just…surprised to see you. Emerson didn’t give me your name when she asked me to talk to you.”

“I get it. Women can’t be too careful these days.” As I walk back toward her, I can’t help taking in every detail of her appearance. She’s dressed in black yoga pants and a black tank top, with her hair tucked behind her ear and absolutely no makeup on her face. And still she looks as good as she did at the bar the other night—maybe even better. Then again, I’ve always been partial to a woman who can blush like that.

“It’s not that.” She bites her lip and, if possible, her cheeks get even pinker as she looks down at the ground. “I just…”

“Just what?” Her hair fell in her face when she looked down and now that I’m right in front of her I can’t help reaching out and pushing it out of her face. I love the asymmetrical cut, but I really want to see her eyes while we talk.

She shakes her head, looks away. “I don’t normally act like that.”

“You don’t normally run away from paying customers when they come to the door? I have to say, I’m relieved. Not sure how you’d run a business like this if you did.”

That has her eyes snapping back to mine. They’re more green than brown this morning, and I wonder if it always happens like that when she’s annoyed. I also wonder what color they are when she just wakes up in the morning. Or when she’s happy. Or— I cut that train of thought off before I go too off the rails. And before I start to feel like even more of a pussy than I already do.

“I mean the bar,” she tells me as she continues to glare. “I don’t normally pick up strange guys at bars and let them fuck me in a hallway at the back.”

“I never thought you did.” I try a smile, just to see if it will relax her a little. It doesn’t work. In fact, I’m pretty sure her eyes got even narrower and her shoulders even more tense—and I didn’t think either was possible. “I want you to know that I don’t normally act like that, either.”

Her brows go up. “You don’t normally pick up strange guys at bars?”

“I don’t normally pick up anyone at bars, strange or otherwise.” Her hair’s fallen back into place and this time I can’t help tugging on it a little before sliding it behind her ear. “I made an exception in your case—on both fronts.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes before stepping back into the yoga studio, but there’s a small smile on her face as she does it. “I’ve got about an hour before the studio opens, if you want to talk about your back.”

“I want to talk about a lot of things.”

“Yeah, well, your back is the only one on the table right now.”

I follow her into the long hallway she ran down earlier. “You drive a hard bargain.”