Trixsters Anonymous

“Shit.” The hope fades and she sighs in disappointment. “I’m sorry to ruin our night. I was going to make you dinner.”

“I’ll make you dinner after I get you settled.”

“You don’t have to do that, Walker. I’m sure you’d rather be at home than listen to me whine.”

I lean into her, kissing her quickly then laying my forehead against hers. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be. If you want to whine, go ahead.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

There’s a loud sigh from Maren, and we turn to see her watching us with a starry look in her eyes. “I love you with a boyfriend,” she tells Emi.

Emi goes stiff in my arms, her hand clasping my shirt tighter. “Maren!”

“Hey.” I cup the back of Emi’s neck and massage gently, drawing her attention back to me. “You think you can stand long enough to shower?”

“Maybe.”

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“Can you help get her undressed and in the shower? I’ll get everything set up out here,” I ask Maren.

“Sure.” She comes around to help Emi walk.

“I got this.” I stand easily with Emi in my arms and look for Maren to lead the way.

Her bathroom is large and spacious with a separate stand up shower. “Let Maren help you. When you get out, put on some comfortable clothes, preferably shorts so we can apply the arnica often. I’ll be in the living room.” I set her down on the vanity and kiss her forehead. “Try not to injure yourself further,” I joke with her.

“If I’m not dying in pain, I’m dying of humiliation.”

“Wait until I show him the video of you in action,” Maren says as she shuts the door.

I chuckle to myself as I take a quick look around the bedroom and see once again, it’s completely opposite of mine. Similar to her living room, she has a lot of brightly colored accent pillows on her bed and side chair. Picture frames cover most surfaces, along with clutter. There is hardly an inch of free space anywhere.

In her living room, I grab the ice pack, then go to the kitchen to fill it. There’s a full six-pack of my brand of beer in the fridge, and I pop one open as I stare at the contents, trying to figure out what to make.

“I’ll take care of dinner.” Maren comes in and reaches in front of me to get a bottle of wine.

“You left her by herself?”

“She’s a big baby, but if you’re worried, don’t be. She’s soaking in the tub. We got her propped up, and she’s given me explicit instructions on how to make dinner.” She pours two glasses of wine, returns the bottle, and gets out a Ziploc of cooked chicken breast.

“Can you slice these thinly on a diagonal and preheat the oven? You’re having roasted chicken pizza with gorgonzola and broccoli. Em said you’re a health nut.” She points to the knife rack and cutting board on the counter. “I’ll be right back.”

I do as she says, grinning that Emi caught onto my healthy eating habits. The chicken is ready when she joins me again.

“Have a seat. let me show you what happened.”

I do as she says and take her phone when she offers it, pressing play on the video.

A group of mostly women stand around in a circle as an incredibly skilled woman, who I assume is the instructor, demonstrates what she wants the class to do. A few people line up and attempt to follow her lead. That’s when I spot Emi on the far side, away from most people, looking panicked. She’s shaking her head rapidly, mouthing ‘no’ to the instructor.

When I found her on the floor earlier, I didn’t notice her outfit, but now, I take the time to appreciate the form-fitting black yoga pants and matching tank. Every curve is on display, and if she’d just tilt to the left, I could see her ass fully. My dick starts to swell, thinking about peeling her out of the outfit.

There’s always next time.

“Don’t be a sissy, Em! Try it, I dare you!” Maren’s voice rings out on the recording, bringing me back to the class.