Page 43 of 1 Last Shot

I'm way more confident in the first option than the second.

But after I leave the dance studio that day, I find my thumb hovering over the number for the police precinct.

I couldn't tell you how long it took me to hitCall.

But I can tell you how long the phone call was.

Ninety seconds. Just long enough for me to ask him if there were any developments, or any suspects, and for him to tell me that nothing has changed since I last saw him.

When I hang up, I feel dejected. Even though I knew Kane and I didn't give the cops any description they could realistically work off of, I still had my hopes up that they had gotten lucky and found the mugger.

You're living in an imaginary world, Isabella. The real world doesn't work that way.

I shake the thoughts from my head. I know I told Kane that I thought I was sheltered and naïve, but his response somehow convinced me in fifteen seconds that I was wrong to feel that way. That Ididhave a handle on the world, and that I wasn't an idiot when it came to what happened to us.

I manage to distract myself from the negative thoughts while I get ready to teach a yoga class. And yet, when I walk into the studio, I’m still very much on edge.

I'm distracted and shaking with the overwhelming emotions when my students start to show up. I try to busy myself with setting the perfect temperature, the perfect playlist, while I wait for everyone to set up their mats. It isn't until I literally run into Kane that I realize how futile my efforts were.

Because it only takes one look at him to calm my nerves.

He notices right away. Whether it's because of our joint experience or because my emotions are plastered over my skin, I have no idea. But he can tell.

"Are you okay?" he asks in a low murmur. His hands are still on my arms, still holding me steady. And I realize it's the first time in two days that I've felt grounded.

"I'm fine," I croak out. "Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

His eyes narrow suspiciously, but he must decide against pushing me because the only push he gives me is to rub his hands over my arms for a nanosecond before pulling them back to his sides.

"Okay," is all he says.

I shine a smile at him that I'm sure screamsfakebefore pushing past him to unnecessarily fill up my already-full water bottle. I waste time until the clock tells me to start class.

I'm on autopilot during the hour. I can't remember what I teach, and it's a testament to my dedication to yoga that I can go through the motions without any thought. But I do it. And it isn't until it's over that I even realize I did it.

The first thing to snap me out of it is noticing Kane standing at the water fountain. It's odd enough that he didn't leave as soon as we were finished, but it's even more odd that he fills his water bottle and then stands nearby to make small talk with the girl who steps up after him.

He's hesitating. He's waiting for something.

The second I make the observation, I watch him firm his resolve and lock his gaze on me. My breath catches, my feet freeze where they are, and I watch in helpless wonder as he starts toward me.

"Hey," he says in a tight voice.

I swallow roughly. "Hey, back," I answer.

"I wanted to offer some self-defense lessons,” he eventually says. “I figure the other day was stressful, and it can't ever hurt to learn, so—" He cuts himself off. "I just thought I'd make the offer. If you were interested."

I hesitate to accept, and he notices. It's probably what makes him add quietly, "I know when it happened to me, learning to protect myself made it easier to deal with the fear of it happening again."

And that decides it. Not just the truth of his statement, but also the fact that he's making this offer because he's concerned about me.

"Okay," I blurt out before I can lose my nerve. "When?"

He seems relieved at my acceptance. "Come to the gym after lunch tomorrow."

I give him a shaky smile. "Okay. I'll be there."

"Okay," he parrots, his shoulders relaxing. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

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