When I glance at him, I notice that Lance is just staring at me.
“Honey, you look tense.”
“I am tense,” I admit.
He sighs. “You need to get laid, don’t you? It’s all that tension you’ve been building up with Carter. It’s just begging for a release.”
“Maybe,” I respond. “But I’ll find an outlet for it.”
His phone buzzes and he checks it. “Well, speaking of tension release. There’s this new thing at the yoga studio Joseph and I belong to. It’s called Vino and Vinyasa.”
I giggle. “That’s a catchy name.”
Lance puts his hand on my shoulder and massages my neck. “It’s the ultimate stress reliever. It’s been getting really popular. If you want to go, let me know. It starts in a half hour and I’d have to sign you up right now through the website.”
“I’m in.”
“Yes! You’re going to love it. And with those hot pink tights you have on, you might even attract a guy.”
“These are quite obnoxious,” I admit.
My stomach coils, just thinking about ‘attracting a guy,’ though. It’s not something that’s remotely on my radar right now. Especially after the way things went downhill with Norton.
Except for my attraction for Carter, which is rapidly building in spite of—maybe even because of—my dislike for him.
“I’ll call us a Lyft. Oh, and after yoga, you can tell me all about why you hate Carter. I have a feeling this isn’t a quick ‘on the sidewalk’ conversation.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you keep avoiding telling me.”
“Oh.”
“Lyft is almost here. Are you ready for some downward dogs?”
I blow out a loud exhale. How is it possible that I both wish I never have to see Carter again, and at the same time want him in my bed tonight?
I hate decisions.
“Can we just skip the dogs and just go to the wine bottles?
11
Carter
“Where’s your leotard, man?” Chandler ribs me as we sit on our mats.
“Dude, screw you. You said this was going to release the tension. Not piss me off more.”
“It will. Fuck, I’m about to release some tension right now if I’m not careful.”
I follow Chandler’s gaze as his fiancée Amy walks into the room. The guy is so damn in love, and it’s completely disgusting.
Amy enters the room wearing hot pink yoga pants and a white top. She’s on the shorter side, maybe just a hair over five feet tall. When Chandler sees her, his face lights up and his entire demeanor changes.
“Hey Squirt,” he growls, ignoring the other people who are trying to come in as he blocks the entryway to give Amy a long kiss. He walks back over to me, and Amy sets up her mat directly in front of Chandler.
“Hi Carter,” she smiles. “I heard you have some tension you need to get worked out.”
I scoff and say jokingly, “You told her? That was confidential.”
Amy, on all fours, is making a very suggestive pose as she aims her ass right at Chandler, who is sitting cross-legged on his mat.
He winks at me, leans over, and whispers. “We’re going to work out some tension later tonight. I can’t wait.”
I roll my eyes again, half at how pathetic Chandler seems, and half jealous that he’s so into Amy.
“Fuck you, dude, you’re disgusting,” I whisper.
Chandler just smirks. “She’s wearing the pink pants. That means she’s extra randy,” he says as though he’s a scientist who has made this painstaking discovery over years of experimentation.
I scrunch up my face.“Did you seriously just use the word ‘randy?’ And how the hell do you know that?”
He scrubs a hand across his jaw, and glances back and forth to make sure no one is within earshot.
“Pink is the same color as the pussy.”
“So because she’s wearing pink, she subconsciously is hornier. Got it. What the fuck did you get your degree in, again?”
“Psychology.”
“Oh.” I shrug. I don’t know. Maybe he has a point.
Space is tight in the studio, and Chandler and I are easily the tallest, biggest guys there. We barely fit on our mats. Chandler doesn’t seem to mind, as this means he gets an up close and personal view of Amy in her pink pants.
I get up to fix my mat, and when I sit back down I have to blink a few times when I notice who—also in pink pants—is directly in front of me.
“What the . . . Laces?”
Lacy is right in front of me. And Leotard Larry is to her left. “Oh my God. You do yoga?”
Before I can say anything, the instructor dims the lights and calls out. “Okay, class, let’s bring our hands to center.” Her voice is quite soothing.
Lacy turns toward the front of the class. I swear I see her sneak a glance at me by looking at the walled mirror in front of us. “Let’s examine our intentions for the class,” the teacher continues. “And also take a look at the baggage we’re bringing today. Are we angry, sad, or tense? Let those negative emotions fall away.”
I close my eyes and do my best to let the world fall by the wayside.
I open my eyes for just a moment, and I see her.
My heart starts to hammer.
This is bullshit. She was all worked up after she saw me in the shower yesterday. She was moaning in my goddamn ear while I was doing pushups, for goodness sake. And now she’s got pink pants on, and she’s hanging out with Larry again?
Just who does this Fabio motherfucker think he is?
My mind flashes back to straddling Lacy, my hard cock resting on her stomach. She could feel it. She knows what she does to me. But even more, she knows what I do to her.
So she wants to take that energy out with Leotard Boy? This is bullshit.
“Downward dog. Sir?” I feel a tap on the shoulder. It’s the instructor. I notice everyone else is already out of the sitting position and into a downward dog.
“My bad,” I say.
“You look tense. Let everything fall away. Your body will thank you.”
She walks away, and as I get into position I do a double take, because Lacy is in downward dog three feet from my face.
Shaking her pink ass right in front of me.
I bite my lip, and my heart rate speeds as I get into downward dog.
Anger surges through me. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I mutter to myself.
I glance over at Chandler, and he’s sneaking a look at Amy, who is blowing kisses back to him. She even rolls her eyes back in her head like she’s having an orgasm, and Chandler cracks up.
“Absolutely disgusting,” I whisper.
He winks. “Just remember what I said about pink.”
After sun salutations, we do a few warrior poses and then someone requests hip openers. “Of course,” the instructor says. “Let’s get into puppy pose, then.”
She models the pose in the front of the class. I rub my left eye, because there is no other way to describe what she is doing—in my dirty mind—other than doggie-style sex practice pose.
Puppy pose.
Lacy breathes out in front of me, and the noise sounds starkly similar to how she moaned in my ear yesterday. Except this time, she’s on her knees, sticking her ass straight up in the air, and putting her head low to the ground, arms out in front.
I feel my dick twitch, and that’s when I realize this class is a total loss if what I wanted was to get the tension out. My balls will be aching even more after this.
I close my eyes and zone out, doing my absolute best to concentrate on the poses, and not the fact that Lacy is almost right on top of me in the crammed yoga studio.
Taking a deep breath, I try to lend my attention to the actual yoga exercises and be ‘mindful.’
Or something.
But when I open eyes for a brief moment, she’s staring back at me.
As soon as my gaze finds her, she turns bac
k toward the front.
* * *
When class ends, Amy insists that we stay for the wine portion of the happy hour. I resist, but she insists, and next thing I know I have a glass of pinot noir in my hand and I’m introducing Amy to Lacy.
“Oh my gosh!” Amy says. “You have pink pants too.” Amy glares at Chandler. “I told you pink was in.”
Chandler chuckles. “You only wear pink when you are . . . in the mood.”
“In the mood for what?” Lacy asks.
Amy sighs. “It’s just Chandler’s stupid theory. That I wear pink when I’m horny. It’s a bunch of bull, though.”
There’s an awkward pause as everyone considers the implications of the pink. I nod, admiring that Amy doesn’t hold anything back. I met her a few times over the past season, and even though I don’t approve of my guy friends taking the plunge and getting married, Amy is so damn smiley and bubbly all the time that I can’t help but like her.
“Anyways, how rude of me,” I add. “Lacy, you should introduce your boyfriend. You guys, this is Leo.”
“It’s Lance, actually,” he says, shaking hands with the group. He gestures to another guy standing next to him with black hair and eyes, also wearing full-on yoga pants. “And this is my—my friend, Joseph.”
Joseph does a weird eye-roll, and shakes hands with the group too.
I notice an odd energy in the air, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
“So, Carter,” Leo says. “It’s Lacy’s birthday this Friday.”
“Oh. And?” I arch an eyebrow.
Joseph lets out a loud sigh, which is weird. What does he care that I don’t give a shit about Lacy’s birthday?
“And,” Leotard continues, “we want to have a party for her with the rest of the dance crew.”
“Great. It’s a free country, so you can definitely do that,” I inform him.
“Well,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “We want to use your penthouse. We figure it’s the best spot.”
“Oh my gosh!” Amy smiles, her eyes wide. “That would be so fun! You’re new to the city, right?”
Lacy nods.
“Wait,” Amy pokes Chandler. “What about the yacht you and Carter rented for the summer?”
“Um, you have a yacht?” Leotard echoes, jerking his head back.
I clench my fists. At the beginning of the summer, Chandler and I both got big contracts, and we decided to celebrate by going halfsies on a party yacht that we can use on Lake Michigan.
“We’re not using Empire for a silly little birthday party,” I say, using the proper name of the yacht. “It’s more for team events. You know, bonding and stuff.”
Lacy shoots me a look of death when I shut her down.
Amy gasps, putting her hand over her mouth. “That’s a great idea! We can invite the team! And Lance, how many dancers would be coming?”
“Well, we’d invite the whole summer camp. There are forty of us, although not all forty would come, probably.”
“Wait a minute,” I say, holding up a finger as my wheels start to turn. “Forty dancers—I’m guessing mostly women—on one boat?”
Lance nods. “Yes, I’m the only guy this summer.”
I slap my hand on the bar table. “You know what? That sounds fucking great, actually. I’ll invite the team, and maybe some other guys.” I slam my wine, and my mind races with possibilities all of the sudden.
“Lacy’s birthday is on June twenty-first. It’s the longest night of the summer. Fuck it, have everyone pack an overnight bag! I’ll hire a captain and crew for the night, and we’ll bring this motherfucker out on the lake! It’ll be a night to remember!”
“Oh my gosh, really? You’d pay for all that?” Amy asks.
I wave her off. “Of course I will. You know, you’re right. I’ve been a scrooge lately. Like you said, Lacy’s new to the city. We should give her a proper welcome.” A huge grin spreads across my face.
Lacy’s face turns to a look of terror.
I wonder if she realizes what I just realized.
Amy leans on Chandler’s shoulder, then speaks as though she’s just read my mind. “Forty dancers. A dozen or so professional basketball players. Free drinks on a yacht all night. That sounds like paradise. What could go wrong?”
12
Lacy
On Friday morning, my mom and my sister call me at the same time and sing a duet of happy birthday to me. After the song, my sister gets on the phone.
“Hey! How is camp going? Tell me everything!”
“I’ll fill you in as much as I can. I’m actually in the lobby on a ten-minute break right now.”
“Oh. Wow. Well thanks for picking up for me.”
“Stop it! Of course I’d pick up.”
“No seriously. It’s amazing what you’re doing. By the way, did I tell you I’m visiting NYU this summer with Mom? I’m applying to their dance program. If I get in, I’d be there for four years! And you’ll be there too!”
“I’ll be there if I get the spot,” I say, tempering her excitement a little.
“Why wouldn’t you get it? You’re amazing.”
“Of course I am. But so is everyone here. I have to show them something special to get a spot.”
“So . . . what’s stopping you?” I beam listening to my sister’s unabashed optimism. Oh to be eighteen again.
“Nothing,” I respond. “Absolutely nothing. And let me know how the visit to New York goes. Send me some pictures.”
“Absolutely. So what are you doing today, to celebrate turning twenty-six?”
“Well. A friend is throwing me a party . . . on a boat.”
I hear a loud squeal on the other end of the line. “A boat!? I’m so jealous.”
My hometown, Blackwell, is totally landlocked. So when we were little, my sister and I used to fantasize about traveling on a boat around the world. And now, that fantasy was coming true. Kinda.
I give Eliza the run-down.
“This Amy girl sounds cool. I think you should hang out with her. And she’s engaged to Chandler Spiros, right? What’s her secret?”
I sigh. “I have no idea. She seems . . . just really nice. I’m not sure. Apparently she’s inviting some baseball guys, too, because one of her girlfriends is married to Jake Napleton.”
I hear a gasp on the other end. “Oh. My. Gosh. I wish I could fly up for today! That’s like, amazing. Are you super excited?!”
I lie and say that I am, apparently not very convincingly though.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Totally fine.”
“I don’t believe you. What’s going on?”
“I’m just stressed out about making it onto Blue Illusion. And a little homesick. And I’m turning twenty-six, you know? It’s the wrong side of twenty-five.”
I strategically leave out my worries about credit card bills. And the fact that since our Sunday push-up romp, I’ve been doing everything in my power to avoid running into Carter, while obsessing over what Lance said: love is not the opposite of hate.
“It’s only six more weeks, right?”
“Right.”
“You got this,” she says.
Suddenly, I realize how immature I’m being. Here my baby sister is, telling me how I’ll be fine while I throw my adult problems on her.
“I know! I am excited for tonight.” I say the words, and all of the sudden, I truly am feeling good about tonight. I’ve avoided Carter all week while living in the same house. “It’s my birthday, dammit. And I’m gonna have a good time tonight.”
“Say hi to the water for me.”
“For sure.”
Davina comes into the green room and waves to me.
“There you are! You’re on. We’ve been looking for you.”
I hang up, and as I walk out to the practice stage I’m left with a silly smile on my face.
Tonight will be fun.
You only live once, right? If Carter hates me so much that he’s willing to throw a p
arty just to shove his money in my face, I might as well enjoy it.
* * *
Friday night could not be more perfect.
To my surprise, Carter, Amy, and Chandler decide to turn my birthday into a huge black tie affair.
I put on a bright, strappy, floral dress that Amy loans me. It turns out we are both around the same size, which is handy.
Lance, Joseph, and I are the first ones to arrive, aside from Carter and the captain.
My jaw drops as we approach the boat. It’s huge, and making me rethink the old adage of ‘it’s not the size of the boat that matters.’
We climb on board, and already I see a hive of servers busying themselves on the deck.
Inside, we find candles lit, a stocked bar, and a buffet dinner being prepared.
Joseph fixes Lance’s tux. I adjust the back of my dress.
Carter appears on the other side of the dining hall, directing one of the servers about what to do with a box of beers. He notices us across the room and glances our way, unsmiling. He flexes his jaw.
Maybe it’s the lighting. Maybe it’s the tux. Maybe it’s the fact that I now know exactly what’s underneath that tux. Whatever the cause, a hot tingle spreads over my face, limbs, and core. I actually shiver in place.
“Holy shit. That is one sexy man,” Joseph nods. “I see why you made him breakfast.”
Carter approaches with a cocky smirk and long, confident strides.
I poke Lance’s side. “Remember. Fake boyfriend mode.”
“Right,” Lance shoots a glare at Joseph. “And Joseph—you’re here for the girls.”
His shoulders sag. “Right. The girls.”
“You can still talk to the basketball players,” Lance adds.
“Did I mention how much I love you two?” I add.
“Louie and Jake, good to see you again,” Carter’s voice booms and he shakes hands with Lance and Joseph.
Joseph smiles. “It’s actually Joseph.”
“Right,” Carter says, nodding slowly before he turns to me. “Happy birthday, Laces,” he winks. “Thank you for giving me an excuse to have a solstice party and invite a crew of hot dancers to hang with my buddies. I’m going to get a shit ton of bro-credit for this.”
The Lying Game Page 7
