The Lucky in Love Collection - Lauren Blakely Page 0,29
terrifying,”
“Pilates is good for you. It helps me chase down bad guys in a single bound,” Perri says.
I shake my head. “Grapefruit is good for you too, but I’m not scarfing down that citrus at six a.m. on a Sunday.”
Vanessa points at me. “That’s the irony of your grumbly face. You don’t hate exercise. You just hate mornings.”
“Call me Garfield,” I grumble. “Seriously, why do you insist on morning exercise? And if you do, why aren’t we taking a class in sleep? I heard there’s a gym that offers a class in napping."
Perri stares at me with saucer-wide eyes. “Please tell me that’s not a thing.”
Vanessa chimes in. “I’ve heard that too. It’s like a class for new parents who are really tired and don't have a chance to nap. They go to a gym and get sleep masks and cozy beds, and they nap in a class.”
Perri scoffs. “That is the height of a first-world offering. It’s like taking a class in cuddling. Or hugging.”
Vanessa shakes her head. “Disagree. Have you ever hugged someone who didn’t know how to hug? It can be very unpleasant. Vise-like, clammy, or flaccid hugs should be outlawed.”
“No, the word ‘flaccid’ should be outlawed,” I offer, gesturing for them to come inside.
“You hate the word ‘flaccid’?” Perri asks as I shut the door behind them.
“I hate the idea of flaccid. So the word might as well go away too. Am I right or am I right?”
“Darling, don’t we all want to eliminate flaccidness from the world,” Vanessa says, and I offer a palm to high-five.
Vanessa smacks back, and so does Perri. Then my redhead friend grabs my arms, spins me around, and points me upstairs. “Go get your sexy little yoga pants on, Garfield. It’s Pilates or bust, and no nap for you.”
Harrumphing loudly for effect, I head upstairs, splash some cold water on my face, then yank my hair back in a tight ponytail. I stare at my reflection, and a devilish little smirk appears on my face as I recall last night. It was crazy, maybe even daring to ask Gabe for guidance. Yet it worked. It truly seemed helpful to chat with him.
I already feel more informed and a little more empowered. I’m excited about seeing him today for our mission.
So excited it gives me a huge blast of energy—something I didn’t expect to feel at the torturous hour of six in the morning. I make a quick change into workout clothes and return downstairs with a peppy smile. “Okay, let's go, girls.”
“Whoa. Did you have a personality transplant with a happy puppy upstairs?”
“Can’t a girl be full of energy in the morning?” I ask as we leave my house and walk to the Pilates studio in the middle of town.
“Not you. You look like you have a dirty little secret. Did you have a man hidden away in your bathroom who gave you a quickie while we waited down below?”
“Please.” I glance around, then lower my voice to a whisper. “But I did decide to take the bull by the horns.”
Vanessa mimes riding a bull. “Tell me more, cowgirl.”
“Yes, that exactly. Reverse cowgirl. Well, sort of. I’m going to experiment a little. Learn some more about what I might like.” I don’t keep secrets from Perri and Vanessa, dirty or otherwise. These ladies are like sisters. I’m an only child, but we grew up together, and I’ve known them my whole life. My best friends are my family.
“I’ve decided I’m done with being too vanilla. I asked Gabe to help me.”
Vanessa stops in her tracks, slamming an arm against my chest. “Oh no, you didn’t? Like you’re going to do a let’s get it on tutorial?”
“Please, no. This won’t be hands-on. More like mouths-on.” But that’s not the best analogy either. I backpedal. “I mean, we’re going to talk through some stuff. Go over a bunch of different options. Discuss what I might like and how to ask for it. It’s going to work out so perfectly. It’s like a dress rehearsal before a big show.”
Perri clears her throat loudly. Deliberately. “You do know that a dress rehearsal means you go on stage and put on your costumes and go through all the motions?”
“I do know that.” I smack her butt. “See? Isn't it better that I practice with him rather than you?”
She jumps away and gives me the side-eye. “Yeah, I don’t want you to spank me, sweetie. Unless you’re six two, inked, and built like a Greek god.”