One Lucky Girl

by Natasha L. Black

  “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

  Noah had already closed his eyes, so he couldn’t see how I’d witnessed his shy grin.

  “First,” he continued, “what I do is pretty basic. I just breathe in then, count to three, really slowly. Like this. One…. Two…. Three…. Four and inhale. Then do the same thing for exhale.”

  And so, I did. One…. Two.… Three…. Four and inhale, and One…. Two …. Three…. Four and exhale. I did it a few times, until I noticed that, not only was I a lot more relaxed, and the tension had eased out of my shoulders, but I had also unknowingly matched my breathing to Noah’s. It felt intimate, somehow, almost more intimate than if we were touching. Maybe it was all the oxygen rushing to my brain, but it felt like there was something more in the air, fizzling. Noah had always been the shyest of the brothers, and yet, I felt his gaze on me when he thought I wasn’t looking. Not to mention the way he lit up whenever I’d laugh at one of his jokes. It almost seemed like Noah was the kind of guy I could even tell about what had happened between Jeremy and me, and he wouldn’t judge me or like me less because of it. But I knew better than to do that. Noah was Jeremy’s brother, and not to mention my colleague.

  “Blair?”

  My eyes snapped open. I realize to my embarrassment, that Noah had said something, and I had been so deep and lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed.

  “Yeah?” I said.

  “You good to try a few yoga poses now? Unless you feel like you don’t need any of this?”

  I held up a hand. “Yesterday I was dry heaving over the toilet, okay?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, so horribly exposed and ridiculous, there was no going back. “Anyway, point is that I think whatever exercises you have, I think they’ll do me a lot of good.”

  After he guided me through a few more breathing exercises, I felt much calmer and more at ease than I had in a long time. “Times up,” Noah said.

  My eyes open to find him smiling.

  “They really work, don’t they?” he asked.

  I paused. “You know what,” I admitted. “They really do.”

  And I wasn’t just saying that for his benefit either. Already, the nervous agitation that had turned my spine into a chunk of wire piping, had released itself slightly. And yet, it wasn’t just the exercises, I sensed. It was Noah. The way there was nothing about him that expected anything. The way all of him merely enjoyed my presence.

  When he stopped me, I smiled. “That’s our cue to start on the yoga?”

  “Yeah, just no laughing at these videos or we’ll never get through them.”

  “Okay,” I said,” I promise.”

  Only a few minutes later, I was already breaking my promise. It wasn’t my fault though. It wasn’t only the early 2000’s videos and the faked sincerity of their hosts that got me going.. Every single pose Noah did he was so ridiculously inflexible, that I would’ve thought his rendition of the poses were a parody if I hadn’t known better.

  Noah, for his part, after toppling over during a balancing pose, shot me an utterly unamused look. “Your commentary isn’t helping. And yoga is supposed to be done in silence.”

  “Sorry Yoga Nazi,” I said. “Anyway, isn’t laughter supposed to be de-stressing too?”

  “Maybe,” Noah admitted, a smile showing itself through the displeased look on his face. “Tell you the truth, when I used to do it by myself, I kept cracking up so much that Peter and Jeremy would have to check on me. Then they’d crack up too and tease me about it for the rest of the day.”

  Sure enough, every so often, during a long-lasting pose that I had done satisfactorily enough for my mind to wander, I glance at the doorway to see one of our colleagues, waving, smirking and pointing. One time it was even Jeremy wiggling his brows at us.

  Noah followed my gaze to the window, although he didn’t share my smile. Then, next thing I knew, Jeremy was gone. Just like that though, the tension had returned. Although the breathing exercises and the yoga had helped, there was no helping how I felt when actually in Jeremy’s presence. The way my pulse ratcheted up. The way every part of me longed to go to him, say something to him, touch him.

  Not to mention that Noah’s presence made things way confusing. It embarrassed me and yet… Excited me. But in what way?

  If I claimed that the way his full lips pursed when he was thoughtful or grinned at the sight of me had no effect, I knew I’d be lying to myself. But still, that didn’t mean I actually was attracted to him too, did it?

  During a pose called downward dog, I threw myself into it fully, eager to do away with the troublesome thoughts. The last thing I needed right then, when supposedly trying to destress myself, was to stress myself out more by thinking about the very things worrying me. So, I shoved my butt up into the air, stretch my hamstrings, and threw myself into downward facing dog like my life depended on it.

  Halfway through the pose, I noticed that Noah’s rhythmic breathing had stopped. I glanced over to see his gaze fixed on me. On my ass rather. Seems that I was doing the pose even better than I intended.

  Noah’s gaze met mine.

  “Sorry,” he said, quickly looking away.

  “That good, eh?” I teased, before realizing just how wrong that could come off.

  “I just meant, I’m doing the pose right, right?” I said quickly, lightly, awkwardly.

  “Yeah,” he said in a strained voice.

  Seconds later, I disregarded the video entirely and was on my hands and knees.

  “Listen Blair,” Noah was saying. Although he wasn’t looking at me. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “For what? Sneaking a peek? Really, it’s fine,” I said.

  I focused on the particleboard ceiling above us. It was perfectly symmetrical, perfectly in line, if only I could get my thoughts there to be like that. Because Noah was close to me now, but thankfully, not close enough to sense the sweat rolling down my back, the way my gaze had wandered over to his strong chest, lingering on his lips.

  Things were messed up enough with Jeremy as it was. I didn’t feel that way about Noah. I couldn’t afford to.

  16

  Noah

  How long exactly was the yoga video going to drag on for?

  Sure, Sarah Ivanhoe, the yoga instructor and her neon pink headband had been a little cute and funny the first time I’d done this video, but right now, her ingratiating smile seemed to be getting its teeth deep into me. Don’t look at Blair, I reminded myself. But it was no use.

  No matter what pose we did, each and every time my gaze drifted irresistibly to whatever shape Blair was doing at the time. Half the time she was doing the poses wrong, I could see that. She had too much weight in one foot, had forgotten to lift her back arm. Or she just clearly wasn’t thinking about the pose, the way her arms were drooped halfheartedly. Not that I was in a position to say anything. Getting on her case about how she was supposed to do the pose would negate the whole point of the exercise, stressing her out about doing the poses right instead of letting her enjoy the exercise for what it was.

  If only I could have said that the only reason I was looking her way was to check how correctly she was doing the poses. But it wasn’t. All I could think about was that Jeremy had been with her, and about that time we’d been at the top-of-the-club mini Art Gallery, and how wrong it was to have a crush on the same girl my brother did. But I couldn’t help it.

  And the sense that I wasn’t totally alone in my attraction didn’t hurt either. It was just so easy when I talked to Blair, and I knew that some part of her felt the same way about me.

  At the next downward dog, when my eyes started lingering on the heart-shaped swell of her ass once more, I ripped my gaze away. That was it. No more of that now.

  “Sorry,” I told Blair, who looked at me surprised. “I think I’m pretty tired out for today. Not really up to finish the video but you feel free.”

  The disappointment on Blair’s face was a jab that almost had me taking back everyt
hing I just said. But I stood my ground. It was the for best, as much as I hated to do it. Blair was already in deep water with Jeremy. No way was I going to do anything to endanger her career or mine.

  “It’s okay,” Blair finally said, mustering up a smile. “Thanks for your help. Really, I feel a lot better.”

  “You’ll feel even better if you do these regularly,” I told her. “I can’t say enough how they basically saved me.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Hell yeah,” I told her. “Being a cop and being an anxious person don’t exactly go together super well.”

  The green brown of Blair’s eyes was busy scanning me, as if searching for a missing puzzle piece.

  “Funny,” she finally said, “I would never have pegged you for someone who worries a lot now.”

  I shrugged on my way out. “People can surprise you.”

  What I didn’t add, as I made my way to the station bathroom, was how much she had surprised me. Although I’d known she was cool if Jeremy got along with her so well, I hadn’t expected her to be good at her job and womanly. She was tough and independent, sure, but she was still girly, pleasant, fun. She wasn’t trying to prove anything. I liked that.

  The shower was empty, thankfully enough.

  After taking off my clothes, I stood there, letting my eyes flutter shut, enjoying the rolls of heat overtaking me.

  Yes, this was what was needed. Screw breathing exercises and yoga – what beat a good hot shower?

  Although I knew that was only part of it. Truth be told, the sight of Blair’s tight ass as she contorted from one fuck-ready pose to the next had been nothing short of pure torture.

  Reminding myself that she was my colleague, did next to nothing. All my dick knew was was that she was hot.

  Blair wasn’t just hot, either. She was witty and irreverent and brave and….

  I froze. When exactly had my hands decided to go to my dick?

  My cock was throbbing uncomfortably. My fault, too. When was the last time I’d had a good jerk-off? But still, jerking off to Blair – the one woman I’d promised myself to stay away from – didn’t seem like a good idea.

  So, closing my eyes, I forced myself to vaguely remember the last porn I’d watched – a decent one with some blonde taking it from behind… her face woozy, her brown hair streaming in her face –

  Hang the hell on – her brown hair?

  By now it was too late. My hand was fisting my cock, stroking it up and down. The image of Blair in my head, with me behind her as I railed her, was immovable. It was too hot, too enthralling. The way her groans were perfectly timed with my thrusts. The way her ass wobbled as our bodies connected and reconnected. How her pelvis kept sinking, overcome.

  It felt so damn good. Only once I’d spilled onto the tiles, watching the white flow down the drain did I realize what a mistake I’d made.

  Because now, instead of jerking off satisfying my want for Blair, it had only invigorated it.

  17

  Blair

  By the time I got home, all my de-stressing work went out the window. Mainly because there was a man on the sidewalk outside of my apartment that had given me the willies. I saw him on the way in. We looked at each other. There was something in his gaze that said he was dangerous. But I knew I just had to be imagining things. Just because that crazy bald guy we arrested for the robbery, the cousin of the guy I shot, made some big bad threats, didn’t mean he’d actually follow through on them. Criminals were big talkers. But still. Going up the elevator to my place, there was an odd feeling in my stomach, like a colony of bats were beating their wings.

  Inside my apartment, I locked the door once, and then again. I pulled at the door, jiggling the lock. It felt strong, but how strong was it really? Strong enough to keep out some guy who went to the gym every day?

  Not that the guy I had seen under my window was one of those. But he’d been wearing a thick black coat, obscuring his shape. He could’ve been the Incredible Hulk for all I knew. In any case, suddenly a quiet night at home had lost all of its cozy allure. Now, it was just scary. Even when I turned on all the lights in the place and put a bag of popcorn in the microwave. As time went on, and the popcorn kernels began to rupture, the little explosions shot through me like bullets. I went back over to the window, looking down. The guy was still there, hadn’t moved. Who waits for someone, on the lawn of their building? It didn’t make any sense. Not to mention that while my building wasn’t exactly the Ritz Carlton, it wasn’t exactly a hovel either. There weren’t many sketchy-looking people who’d have him for a friend.

  But still. What was I supposed to do, go down and ask him, “Hey, I noticed you looked a bit sketchy. Are you here to meet an equally sketchy friend of yours here, because some guy I put in prison wants to hurt me?”

  I manage a grim smile at that one. Yeah, that would go over well.

  Going to my bed, I opened the drawer on my bedside table.

  My hands affectionately ran over my gun. I’d almost forgotten about it, now that I wore one every day on the job. But there it was, my key to safety. I had the skills to use it too. Before I got hired, I would go to the range three or four times a week, practicing until I could consistently hit the center of the bull’s-eye target. But still, if that guy snuck up on me and somehow got in without me noticing, then I wouldn’t even have time to get to my gun. I turned away. Getting my phone out of my pocket, I glared into the black of my reflection on the screen.

  You are not doing what you’re thinking of doing, I told myself.

  My reflection frowned.

  Because really, right then, no amount of lights, popcorn, or staring at my gun had really put my mind at ease. And the only thing that I knew would put my mind at ease, was the last thing I should be doing. Calling up Jeremy or Noah or Peter was not a good plan. A career ending one at worst. Chief Fallows hadn’t found out what had happened between Jeremy and me yet, but if we kept seeing each other, it was only a matter of time. Even if she didn’t hear or see evidence of it herself, people would talk. I mean, there was being friends with your partner, and then there was seeing your partner every weeknight behind closed doors. It just didn’t look good. And besides, my head needed to be on my job, where it should be, not with something I might or might not be having with my very good-looking partner. That was why I had worked my ass off to get on the force, to help people. Not to get into something with some guy that, when it came down to it, I didn’t really know that much about.

  Flinging myself on my couch, popcorn bag in hand, I munched as I called up Jenny. She didn’t respond, so I left a phone message, telling her that I was alright, although relaying that I had been sick recently. Then I called up Ella, who was also away, probably practicing the piano, knowing her. Another message, another handful of popcorn, and before I could stop myself, I was rising to my feet, returning to the window.

  A gasp curdled in my throat. He was still there. And now, he was looking up to where my window was. Could he see me? I jumped back, my heart pounding in my chest.

  A ridiculous, wild part of me almost wanted to yell down at him. I was only on the third floor after all. I wanted to accost him and demand to know what he was doing there. But I knew I couldn’t do that. No, all I could do was wait there and hope that I wasn’t the reason he was lingering.

  Ten more minutes of anxious popcorn gobbling passed before I couldn’t stop myself any longer. When my phone showed up with Peter’s number calling, I answered it.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Just wanted to check up on you,” he said sharply with a significant pause.

  “Oh yeah?” I asked.

  There was something about his tone that made me think that he was calling to make sure that Jeremy wasn’t there.

  “You okay?” Peter was asking now. “You sound a little… Rattled.”

  “I am,” I admitted. “I think I’m overreacting, but there’s this guy in front of my building. He’s been there for like an hour to now and he
won’t budge. I just have this weird feeling that…”

  “That guy you arrested and who threatened you sent him?” Peter guessed.

  “How’d you know?” I asked Peter.

  “Jeremy told us what happened,” Peter said. “Sometimes criminals lose it when they know they’re headed to jail.”

  I was silent, unsure what to say to that.

  “Sorry,” Peter said. “I was trying to make you feel better. Why don’t I swing by and see what this guy is up to? Just to give you some peace of mind.”

  “You sure?” I said, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice.

  The logical part of myself was screaming that no, under no circumstances should Peter be coming over. But the nervous eager part of me was exclaiming happily.

  “I’m coming over now,” he said. A dial tone met my next attempt at protesting.

  18

  Peter

  Talk about a bad idea…

  I clenched my hands harder on the steering wheel, shaking thoughts out of my mind. Blair could be in actual danger. There was no time for qualms and about being careful around her now. If I wasn’t careful enough, she could be hurt. Sure, sometimes criminals were all talk, but what if this one wasn’t? What if whatever guy who was waiting outside Blair’s building really was there to hurt her?

  In any case, I’d find out soon enough. Pulling up to her apartment, I saw the guy immediately. Shifty was the first word you’d used to describe him, with his long dark coat, and square-shaped head with dubious diamonds for eyes. I didn’t blame Blair for being worried, especially if the guy was hanging around.

  On the way there, Blair had texted me, asking me not to approach him until she was there too, but I had no intention of doing that and risking putting her in harm’s way.

  No, I walked right up to the guy, smiling disarmingly. I jerked my head in the direction of the window he was looking at, the one I would’ve put money on was Blair’s. “Waiting for someone?”