“Yeah. He’s good for me too.”
A part of me wanted to ask about her boyfriend, about how serious they were. Would she be next in line for Jake after me, now that they’d reconnected?
But I pushed the thought away. It didn’t do to dwell on it. It was totally made up drama, not based in truth. Just me worrying about the future.
“Well, here goes nothing,” Brenda said as she put a glob of frosting on the cake and tried to spread it. A big chunk of red velvet cake lifted off the top and crumbled into the frosting. The more she tried to spread, the worse it got. Red cake crumbs mixed into the lumpy white frosting. It was a mess—like roadkill.
Brenda sniffled. “I’ve ruined it. We used to always make this cake for Jake and Cody and now I messed it all up.”
I didn’t lie and say she was overreacting. The cake looked particularly unappetizing.
I put my arm around her. I had a secret weapon in my back pocket. Or hopefully in their pantry. “Do you have any Oreos?”
She raised her head. “Yeah. Why?”
“Oreos solve everything.”
She found a bag, and we crumpled up the cookies and spread them over the cake, semi hiding the mess. It looked edible, even if it resembled something a kindergartner would have made.
When we were done, Brenda stood back and looked at the cake.
“Thank you.” She smiled at me, an honest smile. She was a sweet girl, and this family would be over the moon to have Jake as a son-in-law, but I couldn’t think about it.
“Oreos to the rescue.”
We headed back into the dining room. Jake was sitting back in his chair, looking happy and relaxed as he talked to these good people. Warmth spread across my chest. This moment, with Jake being happy and me being part of it, was enough. I felt at peace, like I did after yoga. I didn’t need anything else. I didn’t even need him to look at me to be okay—
He turned and looked at me. And smiled. The right side of his mouth drew back, and his warm brown eyes met mine.
Happiness swooped through my heart.
I slipped my arm around him. He kissed my hand.
And everything was contained in that moment.
Chapter 36
Jake
Hannah came back into the dining room with Brenda, her eyes warm. She looked beautiful tonight. Her hair was down, and she had on these long dangling earrings and a silver necklace that rested just above her cleavage.
And fuck me, but I loved her. I did. And not because of how she looked, but because of her tender heart and her sense of humor and the grit inside her. She was a fighter, a survivor, beneath her quirky yoga teacher façade.
I kissed her hand, gratitude swelling in my chest. She had come tonight, for me, because I needed her. “Thanks for being here.”
She sat beside me and leaned into me. “Of course.”
Her skin was warm, and she smelled like flowers. An age-old sense of possession, written into my testosterone, burned through me. Suddenly, all I wanted was her and her alone. “We can scoot after the, ah, is that cake?”
“Shh.” She bumped me with her shoulder. “Be nice.”
“Looks great, Brenda,” I said, running my hand down Hannah’s thigh. Were those Oreos on the frosting?
“I hope you like it.” Brenda handed me a slice with a big smile. She had always had an awkward crush on me. Good thing her boyfriend was there for dinner, or things might have been weird.
Mrs. O’Donnell handed me a cup of coffee, black, because she knew me. “I want to give you something before you go.”
I took my hand off Hannah’s warm thigh. Whatever Mrs. O’Donnell had for me, it was going to hurt. And I didn’t want it. “If it’s something of Cody’s, I’ve got stuff already. But thank you.”
She shook her head, and her face puckered up like she was going to cry. Fuck. I swallowed a bite of cake past the lump in my throat.
Thirty minutes later, I tried to escape with Hannah but Mrs. O’Donnell caught me in the foyer. She pressed a sheet of paper into my hand. It was a hand-drawn map.
Cody had made it, years ago, of the Alaska Range. It was rough and not accurate or to scale, but he’d pored over it for weeks. We’d gotten Brenda to send a few maps to Afghanistan, and we’d plotted out our course.
We were supposed to do this trip together.
And now I was going to do it without him.
“Just take it. I hated him signing up for the National Guard. I was so worried something would happen…that you would have to go over there. I’ve always wished…if we’d just had more money…” Her voice broke, and she couldn’t go on for a moment.
Lines of guilt crossed her face. I swallowed my nausea and said thickly, “It was never about money or even college for him.” She needed to understand that, even if she’d had more money for college, she couldn’t have bought his life.
She waved her hand. “I just want you to know, it means the world to me that you were there with him.”
I couldn’t breathe. Her words were a sucker punch to the gut.
“My only consolation is that you were with him that day. He loved you like a brother.” She tapped the map in my hand. “You keep it. I made a copy for myself.”
I just nodded.
Breathless.
Speechless.
Ready to run.
I gave hugs. Mumbled something about coming back soon. And slammed myself into my truck. Hannah slid in beside me, silent. I peeled out. Drove fast.
“Hey.” She touched my hand.
I shook my head.
I would box it all up. All of it. And shove it off a cliff.
Two hands on the wheel. Eyes on the road. Get Hannah home.
Sometime later, after a silent car ride, I jerked to a stop in front of Hannah’s house. She turned toward me.
“You coming in?”
I shook my head. “Not tonight.”
Her brow lowered but she didn’t say anything.
“I’m going to do the VFW speech.” I kept my hands on the wheel. My gaze ahead.
“You are?” Her voice lit with hope.
“Yeah. I told the O’Donnells I would. When you were in the kitchen.”
“That’s huge. Wow.” She put her hand on my arm.
I shrugged her off. I didn’t deserve her comfort. Not in this. Not when everyone else was hurting so much because of me.
“Come in,” she said quietly. “Just for a moment.”
I shook my head no. I could tell her I had to be up early to train. I could tell her I needed a good night’s sleep with no distractions. And all those things would be true. But they were not the truth.
Truth was, I needed to be alone.
I had a shit storm inside me, and I needed to deal with it.
I leaned across the cab and kissed her. “Good night, Hannah.”
She watched me closely but silently, then nodded and climbed out of my truck.
My house was dark and cold when I got home. I didn’t turn on any lights, just sat there in the blackness.
When I got out to my truck the next morning, there was a small, beautifully painted rock perched on my steering wheel.
I stared at it, my hand frozen on the top of my truck door. It might as well have been a live snake for how shocking it was. A tiny, brightly painted rock, balanced right there on top of the curve.
It was from Hannah.
Which meant she’d driven back out here in the darkness last night. While I’d been inside, suffering, she’d come to me and left me something, so I wouldn’t be alone.
I slipped the rock in my jeans pocket, climbed in my truck, and drove to the knee doctor.
I felt like I was stretched out on a torture rack, being pulled in opposite directions. Hannah, the Crater Project, the O’Donnells... God, Hannah.
I pulled up to the doctor’s office. I had to focus on one thing and one thing alone—Alaska.
I needed the ortho to give me the green light to go.
Despite what I sai
d to Hannah, I was half expecting the doctor to tell me my knee was totally wasted and I was a crazy man to even consider the Alaska expedition. He made me change into that godawful paper robe, took a bunch of X-rays, poked around, and generally caused me discomfort. Then he surprised me.
“Your knee is fine.”
I didn’t know what to say. I honestly thought he was confused. That he was drunk or something.
“So, I’m good to go on this excursion?”
He gave me a long look and then quirked his lips. “Maybe a little touched in the head, but physically good to go.”
“But, I’m still having pain.”
“You need a massage is all. You have hardened scar tissue, and it’s limiting your range of motion. Your muscles and fascia are glued together. Your IT band is too tight. You fire one muscle, and the whole leg goes to a party. You say you’ve been doing PT?”
“Yoga, actually.”
“Well, whatever you did worked. You should keep it up. If you want, add in massage, myofascial release, and good old Epsom salts and castor oil packs.”
“Really?”
“Not too glamorous, I know. You’ve done the major work of rehabilitating your leg, now it’s the soft parts.”
I couldn’t take in what he was saying. My leg was healed? But it wasn’t?
When I didn’t say anything, he looked at me a long time.
“The human body is amazingly intelligent. Your body did its job—it laid down scar tissue to immobilize your compromised joint and muscles. It acted like a cast and kept you from doing further injury. But now the joint has healed, and the scar tissue has become a liability. In your case, it’s keeping you from fully recovering.”
“What do I do?”
“Scar tissue needs to soften and break apart to fully heal.”
Soften and break apart. Those were words no man included in his personal dictionary.
“You can’t muscle your way through the rest of your recovery. Now it’s the TLC. We men are not very good at that.”
“No, sir.”
He put his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve done good, kid. Now relax. The rest of it is all about softening up. And letting go.”
Chapter 37
Hannah
I stared at my computer screen. The blinking cursor mocked me. Annette wanted my Yoga Week posters in the morning. The time had come. I had to figure out what good, important, special thing I was going to put out into this crazy world. What was my unique and special offering?
Oreo-crusted-cake. That was my special offering.
And procrastination. I was good at that too.
I picked up my phone and sent Jake a text.
Hannah: Hey Hottie. Wanna come over?
I stared at my phone. No reply. Jake hadn’t called or texted all day. He’d been quiet, hurting, since dinner at the O’Donnells’ last Sunday. We spent most nights together, but I could feel him pulling away. He was leaving in two weeks. But a part of him was already gone.
I tapped my fingers on my desk. I hated to watch him suffer in silence.
Hannah: I’ll make you dinner.
Still no reply.
I threw my phone onto my bed and turned back to my computer. I knew the rules getting into this relationship. I knew it was short term, that he would be leaving. Our good-bye was a date on my calendar.
But I couldn’t stop wanting him.
Loving him.
Loving his scarred, broken heart that he thought to hide. I couldn’t fix this for him and it was frustrating as hell.
I exhaled and forced my shoulders down. I was going to yoga my way out of this mess. I was going to be so Zen, I wouldn’t know what hit me.
That or I was going to lose my shit and freak out.
I dropped my forehead into my palm.
I’d fallen in love with him.
My emotions were engaged beyond what I’d expected. I didn’t expect him to be so funny, and sweet, and vulnerable. I didn’t expect to hold his heart in my hands, like a bird with a broken wing, and feel the hard pulse of his heart beating and beating against my flesh. I wanted to help him, more than anything, to heal and be whole again. Even if his healing meant he would leave me.
I got up from my chair and grabbed my phone. Still no reply. I forced my attention back to my computer.
Posters.
Yoga could be so stressful.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Focus. Posters. Yoga Week. I needed larger-than-life, stand-out, fantastic, awe-inspiring greatness. I needed to think of someone else. Someone who had a bit of celebrity appeal to them.
Someone like Jake.
My eyes snapped open.
Why hadn’t I thought of it before? It was perfect. He was a hometown hero. And he was totally hot. He’d look great on the posters.
Women at the studio talked about him all the time.
I could focus on his injury, and the relief he’d found through yoga. We could do a whole yoga for chronic pain session. It would be perfect!
I would bring flyers to hospitals, PT and OT offices, elder-care apartments… We’d tap a whole new population for our classes.
It was such a great solution.
There was only one problem. Jake hated being in the spotlight. He’d hate my idea.
Not that I could even ask him. He wouldn’t text back.
I picked up my phone and shook it.
Text me, dang it!
Ding dong. I jumped up, my heart in my throat. Someone was at the front door. Was it him?
I glanced in the mirror—shit, my hair—then walked like a queen to the front door. I was calm. I was collected. I was Zen.
Yup, it was Jake. He was there.
He stood with a slight slump to his shoulders, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Dark circles rimmed his eyes.
I opened the door and pulled him in with a hug. God, he was better than chocolate. Warm and strong and powerful. I lay my head against his chest and tried to fill him up with light. Tried to chase away the shadows that tortured him.
“Hungry?” I asked.
“I just ate.”
I pulled back and looked at him. Lines ringed his mouth. “Tired?”
“Exhausted.”
I took his hand and led him upstairs, turning out lights as we went. “I texted you,” I said, forcing my tone to be light. Underneath, I was worried as hell. And sad. For him. For his bruised heart.
“I’ve been leaving my phone at home. As part of training.”
“Shower?” I asked, passing the upstairs bathroom. “I’ll soap you up.”
“Took one at the gym.”
My heart kicked up. There was so much emptiness in him. But he came to me. And I would give him everything I had. Because this guy, he didn’t leave me empty. He didn’t take until I had nothing.
My love for him poured through me and filled me up.
I led him into my bedroom, pulled back the covers on my bed, and lay down beside him.
He was there, but he wasn’t.
He was hurting, but he wouldn’t talk to me.
He was shutting me out.
Icy fear trickled through my chest. I let it be there, but refused to get hooked in.
He lay down on his back and closed his eyes, then a moment later opened them and looked at me. “How was your day?”
“All right.” I smiled, pretending I was fine. Pretending my heart wasn’t breaking. He searched my face, brushed my cheek with the pad of his thumb, then pulled me across his hard chest and held me close. His heartbeat was fast and erratic. His skin warm. I cupped his face in my hands. His beard was getting longer. I kissed him with all the longing pent up in my heart. I found his soft lips, that soft heart of him in the center of the gruffness, and I poured my love into him, that he might be filled with it. I imagined it sparkling inside him. Filling him with starlight. Chasing out the darkness.
More than anything, I just wanted him to be happy.
He was hard and aroused, but he fell asleep instantly withou
t trying to make love to me. I slid off him, tucked the covers over him, and went back to my desk.
He would leave soon.
I needed to stand on my own two feet.
I had a life here without him.
I wouldn’t ask him to help with my workshop. I didn’t need Jake as my guest celebrity. I would teach what I lived, and live what I taught.
The curser blinked on my computer, and I got to work.
Chapter 38
Jake
Rain pattered the window outside, and I pulled the covers up. According to my training schedule, I had a six-mile run to complete this morning. Yeah. Not happening. I wasn’t put off by the rain—a rare treat in this high desert town—but by Hannah.
I rolled over and snuggled her back against me. I dipped my nose into the crook of her neck. I never wanted to leave her bed.
What if asked her to wait for me while I was gone?
Begged her to be mine?
When I came back to Boulder in five months, I could come right back here, to this place. To this warm bed, with the rumpled sheets and Hannah naked beside me, her body soft and warm. I could take the comfort and happiness she offered.
Comfort and happiness I didn’t deserve.
Fuck. I was a fool.
I opened my hands. Rolled onto my back. I shouldn’t have come over last night. I’d tried to stay away. It had been like that all week.
Hannah.
The early morning sunshine flung long shadows across the ceiling. Light and dark rippled like water.
Hannah.
I loved her. I was in love with her.
But I was broken.
She deserved more. She was so… I didn’t even know the word. Gorgeous, sexy, beautiful, lovely. She was all of those but something else.
She was Hannah.
I’d never known anyone like her. She was fun and clever and sweet and tender and a smartass and wise and more.
But I couldn’t have her.
I rubbed a hand over my chest where it ached.
“Hey,” she mumbled sleepily. “Morning.”
“Morning.” I tried to smile. She looked so sweet, rumpled and cozy in her bed. She rolled over, and the sheet slipped below her breast. I looked away.
Breathless (Yoga in the City Book 1) Page 27