302 Forbidden Ave. (A Cherry Falls Romance)

“Okay, you’re all set. We actually had our instructor cancel last minute, and a mass email went out, which had everyone rescheduling.”

I glanced at him and didn’t know if I felt disappointment or excitement at the thought that I wouldn’t have to do this today.

“But,” he said and paused, “looks like we got a volunteer instructor, but by the time we sent out another email, everyone just kept the new dates they picked.”

“I didn’t get an email.”

“Hmm,” he said and started typing on the computer. He rattled off my email address, but it was a letter off, which was obviously the reason I hadn’t gotten any emails. Keely probably would have, but she was at work so wouldn’t be online checking that shit.

“Okay, um, what does that all mean? Do I need to reschedule?”

“Nope. We have the volunteer coming in, but they are running a few minutes late, so if you just go down that way,” he said and pointed in the direction, “you’ll see the first door on your left open. That's where the class is being taught.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to just say never mind, that I’d reschedule, which I probably wouldn't, but my strict need to stay with my commitment rode me strong, and I nodded and headed to the room he pointed out.

I found the room easily enough and stood there, feeling the air conditioner kick on, a cold blast coming from the vents above. There was an entire wall ahead of me that was nothing but mirrors, a ballet bar running the length of it horizontally. Red mats covered nearly every inch of the floor, and I walked to the left to drop my bag.

Then I sat down and waited, my back against the cold, hard wall, hoping this would be beneficial, even if there was virtually no crime or threat in Cherry Falls.

I grabbed my earbuds and popped them in, turned on some music, and rested my head back on the wall. I didn’t know how late the instructor was going to be, but it was kind of peaceful back here away from everyone, so I closed my eyes and just relaxed.

Two songs had played before I sensed a shadow cover me, the fluorescent lightning above getting blocked out momentarily. I opened my eyes and immediately felt them widen when I saw Braxton standing a few feet from me, this small, amused smile on his full lips.

His mouth moved, and I knew he was saying hello, but with my earbuds in, I couldn’t hear him. I scrambled to pull them out, one flicking from my grip and bouncing off the floor. My face heated in embarrassment as I tried twice to pick the damn thing up, but the floor seemed slick. That or I had butterfingers, because I couldn’t pick it up at first.

When I finally had them both in the case, I pushed myself up to stand. My face was still on fire as I tipped my head back to look into his face. “Hey,” I finally managed to say, and my throat felt thick.

His smile grew, and I for sure could see the amusement on his face.

“Are you here for the class?” I mumbled, even though I was pretty sure he was the last person who needed self-defense classes. Not to mention the front desk guy said it was just me.

“I am,” he said smoothly and took a few steps to the side of me to drop his gym bag down beside mine.

I took that moment to check him out—shamelessly, I might add.

God, he looked so good in the track shorts and T-shirt he wore. His arms were on display in their muscular, so very masculine glory. The gray material was stretched across his wide shoulders and broad chest, and with each fluid movement he made, I could see glimpses of his defined abs under the cotton.

I felt butterflies start to move wildly in my belly and smoothed my hands over my sweats, all of a sudden remembering the hot mess I probably looked compared to him.

He straightened and grinned down at me, straight, white teeth flashing briefly. “Are you ready for this?”

“Ready?” I felt my brows furrow. And then realization hit me.

Oh God. He’s the instructor.

“I don’t think ‘ready’ is the right word.” The words were mumbled under my breath and weren’t meant to be heard.

Cue red-hot face a second time.

He chuckled and lifted his hand to me but then seemed to shake himself and dropped it back to his side. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair up.”

Instinctively, I pulled at my ponytail, looking down because I felt awkward. No, that wasn’t the right word. I felt pleased he noticed my hair was up and not that I was dressed like I was about to go park my ass on the couch for the next three days.