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“Firefly?” I raise a brow. “Pet names already?”
“You petted me first! Oh man, that sounded different in my head.” I can’t stop laughing as Lyrical squirms and looks more and more uncomfortable. I don’t remember the last time I laughed so easily around anyone who wasn’t Sacha or Ade. It’s just so...easy.
“Drink your drink so we can get ready for class.”
He grins at me and my stomach flips. I need to focus and get my head into work mode, not flirt mode, but he does make it difficult.
He finishes his drink without complaint, actually seeming to enjoy the golden latte, and follows me wordlessly upstairs to the double studio space. I’m so enamored with him, I kind of sort of forget to say anything to Lyrical.
The main studio is the larger space, where the doga, yoga and pilates classes tend to take place. The other area is more for one-to-one classes and personal training. I have some weights and gym equipment set up, but nothing that would upset the town’s gym owners or put me into competition with them.
Still, Quilo seems impressed by the space.
“My office is just through there,” I say, pointing to a door on the far right.
“Wanna give me a tour? We could test the sturdiness of your desk.” He winks.
“Cute. But no. You need to put chairs out for yoga—about eight—in a circle please. I’ll set up the music.”
I splurged more money than I had on a state-of-the-art sound system for the studio because I cannot stand being at any sort of athletics class and being forced to listen to music through tinny, sub-par speakers. Or god forbid, directly through someone’s phone. Relaxing music plays through the discreetly positioned speakers and Quilo obediently sets out chairs in a large circle for me.
“What’s that?” he asks, nodding to the corner of the studio where a series of silk drapes and pulleys hangs from the ceiling.
“They’re yoga swings.” He raises a brow. “It’s for advanced practitioners.”
“They look like sex swings to me.”
“Well they’re not.”
“But they could be. If you wanted to give it a go.” He winks at me again, and I laugh, smacking his chest lightly. I mean, it’s tempting. It could be fun. Maybe.
I’m starting to think there’s something in the air at this studio. First hooking up with Whit and now I’m considering the same with Quilo. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know one thing for sure. If I get myself into the same situation as I did with Whit, this time I won’t be running away.
“Hello? Lumi, dear, it’s so good to see you.” The voice reaches my ears long before its owner rounds the corner with her walking stick.
“Hi, Dot. You’re looking well. How are you?”
“Can’t complain, not in a box yet.”
I chuckle and welcome her into the studio but she stumbles to a halt when she sees Quilo. I don’t fail to notice the way she eyes him up and down.
“Who’s the fresh meat?”
“This is my friend Quilo.”
“Hmmm,” is all she says, but she promptly shuffles over to where he’s standing and takes the seat closest to him. She even throws him a flirty wink as he sits down.
Next up is Mavis, who barely even notices our new addition, even with Dot flirting shamelessly with Quilo. She only has eyes for Burt normally, and she takes her seat opposite the door waiting for his arrival.
Burt, the only male of the class, joins us and shuffles over to shake Quilo’s hand.
“Oh, it’ll be good to have a wingman around here, son. I have to beat these women off with my stick!”
Quilo coughs to cover his snicker and somehow manages to keep a straight face as he says hello to Burt.
Sisters Edith and Edna arrive together, giggling when they see Quilo, which puts Burt’s nose out of joint. Gwen arrives with Betty shortly after and the pair of them fawn and titter over Quilo like schoolgirls.
The last to arrive is Doris. She’s my favorite and absolutely crazy. She marches right over to Quilo as fast as her walking frame will carry her and fixes him with a beady eyed stare.
