Page 24 of Fumbling for Perfection

“Not really. I’m so overworked right now. The only reason I still teach Pilates twice a week is to help get my own workout in. I’ve had to drop most of my clients, hence the hiring of Brad.”

The waitress comes over and takes our order and asks what we’d like to drink. I stick with water, as does Riley. When we’re alone again, I ask, “If you’re not working with many clients, what is it that keeps you busy?”

“Hell. Where do I start? I have an associate’s degree in business management, but it’s only helped me in half of what it takes to run the facility. Since I’m still getting it off the ground, I’m playing the role of HR, business manager, marketing exec, accountant, payroll, and sometimes cleaning crew. My staff are awesome about helping when and where they can, but funds are tight. The more fundraisers we run the more we take in, but that just adds another job to my already full plate. It’s a catch-22. To bring in revenue, I need to work more. I can’t hire more staff until I bring in more revenue.” She finishes her water and sets her empty glass down. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to dump that on you. Work has been stressful, and I don’t get out much.”

“No need to apologize. I asked you out to get to know you better. Understanding your career and the stress you’re under is part of getting to know you.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me either. Hopefully, I can take your mind off your job for a few hours.”

Her cheeks turn pink again and she curls her bottom lip between her teeth. Fuck, she’s cute.

“Dinner, conversation, and maybe a walk around the city if you have time,” I clarify. While sex is abso-fucking-lutely on the table, I want her to understand that’s not the only reason I want to spend time with her. “If you need to get back to work, I understand.”

“A walk sounds perfect. It’s one of my favorite things to do around the city, but I haven’t had time lately.”

“I’ve never explored, so you can play the role of tour guide. Or we can stroll leisurely with no destination in mind.”

Our waitress delivers our food, and we continue talking and laughing while we eat. Conversation flows easily and we keep the topics light. We argue over what makes a good movie, agree on the best workout playlist—a mix of hairband metal, 90s rap, and a few pop songs—and I surprise her with my love of books.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” she says as I help her into her vest and we leave the restaurant. “But I can’t picture you as a reader.”

“Hm.” I hold the door open for her and we’re greeted by a dark, cool night. “And why is that?” I follow her lead as we turn left at the corner and walk down the sidewalk.

“You’re...big. All muscles and...stuff.”

I bark out a laugh. “Are you insinuating I’m a dumb jock?”

“I didn’t say that.” She hip-checks me and I loop my arm around her waist, tugging her into my side.

When she doesn’t resist, I release her hip and slide my hand down her arm until our fingers are interlocked. I bring our joined hands to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. Her gasp catches in her throat and I carry on like holding her hand and walking down the street doesn’t make my heart thump erratically in my chest and is no big deal.

“I took a horror literature class in high school and was hooked. Nice escape from reality. From there, I read through Stephen King’s backlist. Devoured James Patterson, Dean Koontz, and now my reading app knows me well enough to recommend books I’ll like. I’m a one-click sucker but prefer paperbacks.”

“I can’t imagine the shelf space King, Patterson, and Koontz take up.”

“I’ve kept a few favorites, but mostly, I donate them to shelters and youth groups.”

“That’s generous of you.”

Ignoring the compliment, I ask, “What do you like to read?”

“You’ll make fun.”

“More than the dumb jock comment hurt?”

She giggles. “I didn’t call you a dumb jock.”

I squeeze her hand. “Implied.”

“Whatever.” I can practically hear her eyes roll. “Not that I have much time to read, but if I do, it’s usually something light. Romantic comedy. Beach reads.”

“You read on the beach a lot?”

“I wish. I can’t remember the last time I went or had the time to lounge around. Beach reads are fast-paced, fun, and flirty books.”

I could offer to fly her somewhere warm and tropical and spoil her with a stack of books while I rub suntan lotion all over her body, but Riley doesn’t seem like the type of person who wants or appreciates handouts. Still, I’d have fun spoiling her if she’d let me.

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