Page 128 of Rules of Association

“Don’t you think it’s all a little…simple for my family?” I asked.

“What?”

I looked at her. “Do you really think that I can go back to my dad or even Ox and tell them this is what I’ve been doing with my time?”

She blinked at me. “Yes.”

I shook my head and looked away. She was on top of me in a second, grabbing onto my shoulder and looming over me with a serious look on her face.

“Hell yes,Ceci!” she emphasized. “I really do think if they saw what you were doing here they would be proud of you. And I know this could just be a hobby or whatever, but I’m just saying if it’s not, I don’t think your family cares either way. They just want to see you happy and fulfilled.”

I kept my gaze pointed away from her. “Thanks anyway, Ferg, but I’m pretty sure I know more on this one that you do.”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re full of shit,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. There she went, changing colors again. I swear she was like sour candy sometimes, but inside out. Sweet at first and sour inside. Well-meaning or not, her accusation irritated me.

Sitting up, I glared directly into her eyes. “Ox runs a billion-dollar company. One that’s been in our family for generations. Melissa is the youngest CFO to take charge of Fernandez Inc. in its history. Mateo started investing when he wassixteen. Against the wishes of Apá, and he’s proving us all wrong with multiple successful ventures. And Alta can make anything marketable.Anything. Everything they do is amazing, and you expect me to believe that they are going to be impressed that I can punch a bag?”

“Ceci, it’syour life. It’s not comparable to anyone else’s. It’s not a race nor is it a competition. Your family only wants to see you happy. No matter if it’s backpacking through Europe or punching a sweaty boxing bag. I guarantee that if they see you happy, thenthey’llbe happy,” she said. Her voice going low and serious, her eyes holding mine with every word.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly feeling dry. This conversation was pointless anyway. I didn’t even know why we were having it, I hadn’t even taughtoneclassyet. And happy? Was I really happy? Did this pit in my stomach and snaking around my heart since that night in the bathroom really count as happy?

I found my eyes slipping back over to the glass door. There was no eavesdropping form there waiting for me anymore. I guess he had left. But from my vantage of the walkway, I could see that people were starting to arrive for class. Getting up to my feet, I reached a hand out to my sister-in-law and asked for the support that I had needed from her brother earlier.

“Playtime’s over, are you staying for the real thing?” I asked, and why for some reason, was I hanging on for the answer?

I have no idea if she knew it at the time, but I needed her then. She was now the only one other than Con to know about this new part of me and she hadn’t shunned it. Now that Con seemed to be tired of dealing with me all of a sudden, I didn't know who else to go to with this novel sense of insecurity and nerves about this first class.

If she noticed, she didn’t tease me about it. All she did was get to her feet and say, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

* * *

The sound of the soft closing door on the other side of the room pulled my attention from my reluctant stretching. I felt like keeling over. I taught three self-defense sequences and either sat in on or assisted with three others. Fergy had only been able to stay for the first one, but she didn't leave before gathering my hands up into hers and pulling my eyes into her sincere gaze.

“I would never have guessed,” she said.

“Guessed what?”

“That you’re a teacher! I’m so proud.” She grinned.

“All I did was follow a few steps,” I argued.

She scoffed. “You did way more than that. You’re a mentor, Ceci.”

I rolled my eyes away from her, my head shaking on its own, but somewhere in the back of my mind that word replayed. Me, a mentor? Helping people, motivating them, advising? Was that even possible? I wasn’t sure, but somewhere—probably in my wildest dreams—it didn’t soundnotpossible…

Shaking myself from my crazy delusions, I pushed Ferg’s shoulder, smiling. “Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” she said. “We can talk about all that other stuff again later, for now just, great job.”

And with a quick hug and a goodbye she was off. So, if it wasn’t Fergy coming in the door, I wasn’t sure who it could be at this time. The gym was closing in an hour, but all the classes had finished up with that last one. But whoever the hell it was, better not be coming to mess up the room that I hadjustfinished wiping down and sanitizing.

Whipping around, I instantly wished I had taken Tim up on his offer to clean up. Because standing right there by the door was the very man making what should be a hugely accomplished feeling after teaching my first class and loving it, instead feeling like I swallowed a frog.

Seeing him did nothing to ease the feeling. In fact, it made me feel a hundred times worse.

Turning away from him, I busied myself with gathering up the cleaning supplies and returning them to the closet built into the corner of the room. Over my shoulder I called. “Don’t get comfortable, I was just about to leave.”

“Cee, I—” I let the closet door slam shut behind me as I put away the supplies. I was trying not to be so dramatic. The man had work and responsibilities for Christ’s sake. There was no reason for me to be acting this way. But unbeknownst to me, my stomach started to revolt at the sound of his voice. That and the tight constricting of my heart told me I didn’t want to talk to him.

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