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Chapter 22
Ali fell back on the mat with a huff. After a few weeks off from yoga, and suddenly she was without flexibility or strength.
“What are you doing?”
Ali opened her eyes to find a sleepy, shirtless Cornell standing above her. “Yoga.”
Cornell scratched the back of his head, ruffling his bed head. “Shouldn’t you be upside down?”
Sighing, Ali shook her head in frustration. “I used to be able to do a full headstand,” she huffed. “I need to move my body.”
“I told you once, I told you twice,” Cornell said, tickling her side with his toes. “Yoga isn’t working out.”
Ali rolled her eyes. “What is, then?”
“You want muscle,” Cornell began, “let me train you.”
“I think you’d laugh at my poor attempt at a bench press.”
Stepping over her, Cornell bent, pressing a hand at either side of her head, his feet sliding back until he hovered over her in a plank. “Doesn’t have to be in the gym. I’ll train you at home.”
Ali gulped when her cheeks flushed and she closed her mouth, nibbling on the inside of her lip at his closeness. Her body tingled. Lower, come lower, she internally whined, clenching her thighs together. I’m a second away from begging you to just lay on top of me. She eyed his broad chest, eager to taste his smooth skin.
“Not sure I can afford you,” she croaked.
Cornell grinned and lowered himself, his lips meeting hers before he pushed up. “Kisses are payment enough.” He continued to do push-ups over Ali, his mouth meeting hers between each one, until she burst into laughter.
“You’re pretty cheap.”
“Nah,” Cornell said, dipping his body down flush against hers, stealing her breath, and whispering against her lips, “Your kisses are anything but cheap.”
Please, please just lay on top of me.
Ali held her breath, afraid if she moved, so would Cornell and his delicious weight still hovering, leaving her on the yoga mat in the living room to combust from the hormone rush exploding within. But instead of kissing her again, Cornell smiled when her stomach grumbled against his.
“Muscle is made in the kitchen. Let’s go get breakfast.” He pushed off but not before letting his hand squeeze her thigh. “Keep these on though.”
After Cornell changed and Ali fed Mowgli, they got into his car driving out of Hopperville.
“I thought we were going to breakfast,” Ali said as Cornell turned into a large shopping center.
“We are. After a detour.”
“Target?” she asked, seeing the bullseye. “Why did you want me to wear leggings to Target? I thought the leggings were because you wanted to stuff me with copious amounts of pancakes. And by the way, we have a gala tonight, and I have a dress to fit into that is pretty tight as it is.”
Cornell smirked, squeezing her leg. “I plan on doing that, trust me, just after.”
“After what?” Ali looked around at the fairly empty parking lot. Cornell drove to the far side of the center, parking in front of a climbing gym. “Rock climbing?”
He nodded.
Ali raised an eyebrow as he switched off the car. “You hate heights.” Hate might be an understatement, Ali thought, recalling the time Cornell somehow thought he could hide his fear from her on a Ferris wheel of all places.
“But you don’t. And maybe I wanted you to wear leggings so I could check out your ass while you’re in a harness.” Cornell winked before getting out of the car and waiting for Ali. She could see it now—the slight nervous bounce, the way he fidgeted with his hat.
She shut the door behind her. “It’s been a while since you’ve done that,” Ali reminded him. A really, really, long while and I’m starting to get antsy.
They still hadn’t had sex, but Ali had at least stopped letting that bother her in her mind, largely thanks to Linda, whose therapy sessions occupied most of it. But it was less in a burdensome kind of way—which is how Ali anticipated it might be. Instead, therapy, even though it was exhausting, had begun to feel more like a release than a burden.
