“You don’t like yoga, do you?” he asked, crestfallen.
I hated that I was bursting his bubble, and I gave lying another shot. “It’s . . . It’s okay.” My voice came out a little manic and high pitched.
“Shit.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be okay. Just don’t laugh at me.”
“I would never laugh at you.” He leaned in to peck my forehead. “Would it make it better to know I’ve never done yoga? We can ride the struggle bus together.”
“Oh boy. That does make it better,” I giggled.
“See, already laughing at me.”
I pinched my lips between my teeth and pretended I was zipping them up. When there was a knock at the door he looked at me with serious eyes. “Let’s do this.”
“That had to be the worst experience of my life,” Andrew announced, still lying on the floor from where he’d fallen a few minutes ago, out of a pose the instructor called “the crane.”
I sat next to him and brushed his hair out of his face. “I have to say, it might have been one of the best of mine. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard.”
“Yeah, you really failed at holding back your laughter.”
“So did you.”
“I laughed at how sassy you were with the instructor. Trying to tell him you were going to remain in corpse pose for the rest of the session when we were only five minutes in.”
“I just wanted to stick with what I was good at,” I said, defending myself.
“I don’t think he found you funny.”
“Well, as long as you did, I’m good.”
“I thought you were the best part of the hour,” he said, brushing the hair back from my brow. “How about we shower and do a wine tasting.”
Squealing, I clapped my hands like a little girl. “Now, wine is a surprise I can get behind.”
After peeling ourselves off the floor, we each took a shower and went on a wine tour. We may or may not have snuck some extra samples when we could and had two more bottles at dinner afterward. Needless to say, by the time we reached the door of our cabin, the world was spinning for both of us.
He let me in first and the click of the door behind me seemed too loud in the silence of the room. I turned and met his eyes, glowing in the low-light from the lamp on the entryway table. For a split-second I compared them to how Kevin’s chocolate ones looked black in such dim light, unlike Andrew’s blue, which shined. Shaking my head, I pushed Kevin from my thoughts, reminding myself I took this trip to give my relationship with Andrew a fair chance.
Licking my lips, I backed away, watching him follow, until I felt the bed hit the back of my thighs. When he reached me, he slipped his hands around my waist and pressed himself against me. My heart pounded, this was the moment that would change everything. I wondered if he could feel my heart against his chest.
He pressed his lips to my neck first. I closed my eyes, trying to fan the flame of any feelings inside me. Where was the heat, the desire to lie back and let him take me? Where was the spark of passion between my legs? My breath panted from between my lips and my chest squeezed tighter with each kiss trailing down my neck, but it felt wrong.
The room spun when I opened my eyes, but not from the wine. I tried to focus, but saw Kevin’s face flash before my eyes. I squeezed them shut and gripped Andrew’s cheeks in my hands, pulling him up to kiss me.
I attacked his mouth and swallowed his moan. I was never the aggressor but something inside me chanted go, go, go like it was outrunning the truth trailing behind it. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I fell back on the mattress, taking him with me. Spreading my legs, thrusting my hips to rub against him. He took some initiative and skimmed his hand under my shirt, cupping my breast, lightly circling my nipple under the lacy bra. I cried out. It wasn’t in pleasure, but in panic.
Fighting it back, I pushed myself to want this. To want the man lying on top of me, cherishing me and treating me like a lady. I tried to find the desire for the man who made me laugh and promised a bright, normal future. I wanted to want this night that wouldn’t end in bruises and red marks that would need to be explained. I liked Andrew and I wanted to want him, but when his hand started pushing under my leggings, my body screamed at me to stop.
“Wait, wait,” I gasped, pushing his hand away. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t do this.” To my utter embarrassment, tears burned the backs of my eyes, trailing down my temples.