Page 20 of The Rival (Looking to Score 2)
Out on the deck, I unfurl my yoga mat, pop in my earbuds, and scroll through my phone, settling on some meditative music to accompany today’s flow. If there was ever a time to relax and unwind, it’s now.
I relax into a seated forward fold, immersed in the ambient music. The deck shudders ever so slightly beneath my mat as footsteps near. When I look up, I find Alex resting against the wooden railing, downing a glass of ice water. My heart rate jumps, leaving me lightheaded as my mind tries to catch up.
Our eyes meet, and he gives me a boyish smile. The top of his ears and his cheekbones are flushed, evidence of a long morning in the sun.
I take one last deep breath and pause the music, squinting up at him with a grin. “Good morning, Mr. Lumberjack.”
“Good morning, Ms. Yoga Poser.” He leans back on his elbows and crosses his feet at the ankle. “Did you eat?”
“Yes, thank you. The bacon was awesome. And cinnamon rolls? I feel so spoiled.”
“Good.” Alex nods and then tilts his head until we hear a distinct pop. He sighs, content. “My mom always made cinnamon rolls the first morning of a vacation. And that’s what this is, right?”
“Feels like one, that’s for sure,” I say, nodding.
“It’s definitely one of the happier memories of my childhood.”
His statement packs a wallop, and I have a feeling there’s a story there. But in the bright morning light, I’m not quite as brave to probe him with questions as I was last night, so I ask what I assume is an easy question.
“Did you guys travel a lot growing up?”
“We camped when I was younger. But then later, everything revolved around hockey, and between the house leagues and the travel league, the family trips stopped.”
“I see.”
Alex shakes his head, a small smile forming on his lips. “Sorry. I don’t know what it is about you, but I feel like I can be open and honest in a way I haven’t been with anyone else.”
My heart stutters at his admission. “You can. Always. And whatever you share will always stay with me.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
With nothing further to say, Alex drops his gaze to my yoga mat. “You do that often?”
“Sorta.” I shrug. “It’s nothing fancy. Mostly stretching. I figure it helps counter how many hours I spend sitting.”
“Working?” he asks.
“Yes, and reading.” After another beat of silence, I gaze up at him. “While I was sleeping in, it seems you were pretty productive.”
He nods, glancing to where I first spotted him. “The firewood is chopped and piled up in the shed where it won’t get rained on. Should be enough for the winter.”
“That’s perfect. You’re flying through your list. Saint will be happy.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
As I begin to stand, Alex reaches out one hand, catching mine and pulling me the rest of the way up. Once I’m on two feet, he lets go with no hesitation. No reason to overthink it. But as he continues his thought, I’m still hung up on how big and strong his hand felt around mine.
“I should be done with my share of jobs soon, so I’ll probably leave tomorrow morning. Get out of your hair and let you enjoy your summer.”
A sudden pang of disappointment flashes through me. “Why don’t you stay?” The thought catapults out of my mouth as soon as it’s formed. I hear myself say, “There’s plenty of room for the both of us here.”
Alex doesn’t say anything yet. He just watches me. So, of course I keep rambling.
“We won’t bother each other, except maybe around meal times. And I know I’d feel a lot more comfortable with someone else here. You know, instead of being alone. This place was supposed to be yours for the summer anyway, and I sort of feel like I messed up your off-season plans.”
Yikes. That was a lot to dump on an unsuspecting guy. A little off script, but Alex doesn’t seem fazed. He cocks his head to the side and stares at me, and even though we’re surrounded on all sides by stunning scenery, all I can see is the blinding blue of his eyes.
“Are you sure?” he finally asks. “That’s a big offer.”
“Of course I am.” I sound a heck of a lot more confident than I am. A gentle breeze reminds me of how exposed my body is, and goose bumps trail down my bare arms and across my stomach.
“Well,” he says, scratching at the shadow of dark stubble on his jaw, “if you’re cool with it, then so am I.”
Relief floods through me. “Good.”
I don’t know where to take the conversation from here, so instead I scoop up my water bottle and rehydrate. Meanwhile, Alex pulls his shirt up to wipe some sweat from his brow, revealing a full buffet of abs that stir a hunger low in my belly. A dark spot on his left pec catches my eye.
