Text Me, Maybe - Jolyse Barnett Page 0,18

first hot yoga session. For better or worse, Matthew had displayed far more willpower than she possessed, and he hadn’t taken her on the mat like her Naughty Girl wanted.

He hadn’t even tried to kiss her.

Boo. Hiss. Grr.

But he’d definitely wanted to, and that knowledge had given her the courage to power through the workout and start her weekend on a high. Yep. She was young, free, and living in the best city in the world—with a whole weekend ahead. What could be better?

Nothing, except maybe sharing it with someone.

She pulled out her phone to check her messages. None. She ignored the slight dip in her stomach.

“Hey, Lexie.”

She turned. Maybe he didn’t have that much willpower after all. “No more clients?”

He smiled. “Nah.”

Her breath hitched, and her gaze fell to his mouth. What should she do? Was he going to just stand there? She glanced around. Maybe he hadn’t purposely run into her but was on his way home, too. “Well, have a great weekend.” Lexie threw him a friendly smile and turned back to brave the lonely walk home.

He fell into step beside her, whistling like he didn’t have a care in the world. “You, too.”

Nibbling her bottom lip, she glanced at him sideways. Another gust of spring air brought his scent hightailing toward her. Mmm… Maybe she’d ask him to hang out. But what if he rejected her? “Where are you headed?”

He held up two tickets. “I have these.”

OMG, is he asking me out? Or is he on his way to meet his date?

“They’re for the MoMA,” he added. “Ever been?”

She ignored the tingle of excitement at the thought of going with him to the Museum of Modern Art, afraid to get her hopes up. “Not yet.”

“Want to go?”

“It’s on my list of must-sees.” She shrugged.

Awkward. How do I ask if he’s treating me, or if he expects me to pay?

If he paid her way, would that qualify that as a date?

Matthew tilted his head. “It’s more fun going with someone than alone.”

She slowed. A girl only had so much willpower when a sexy trainer with the most kissable mouth was asking her out…

He moved toward the curb and raised an arm, his attention on the street.

Lexie glanced at her phone. It was almost seven. “When does the museum close?” She joined him at the curb.

“Nine. Look, if you want to join me, great. No pressure. A friend happened to have a few extra tickets, good today only. When my last two sessions rescheduled, I figured I’d go, and when I saw you just now, thought you might want to join me.”

So, he hadn’t planned this? She’d just happened to be the first person he saw on the street. She chewed the inside of her cheek, then rubbed her arms as the chilly breeze blew through her thin jacket.

I have all weekend to sit alone on my lumpy sofa. He’s offering a free ticket and a few hours of companionship, not a night of reckless sexual abandon.

Now, that would make it a Friday night to remember.

“So, you want to come?” he asked.

The light in his eyes ratcheted up her thermostat, and she put a hand on her cheek to cool the flames. Maybe she was tempting fate, but she nodded anyway.

“Thanks. I really didn’t want to go alone,” he said.

Nice of him to make it seem like I’m doing him a favor and not the other way around.

A cab pulled up to the curb, and Matthew opened the door.

She hopped in and wondered at the extent of her happiness when he slid in next to her.

It’s not a date. It’s not a date.

She clasped her hands on her lap and looked out the window. It’s not a date. No matter how much part of her wished otherwise.

All too soon, their cab stopped in front of a wide, silver building.

Wanting him to understand she appreciated his being nice to the lonely girl in town, and that she didn’t have unrealistic expectations regarding their relationship status, she pushed a few dollar bills toward him. “Here’s half.”

Matthew frowned at the singles, but didn’t argue, then added his bills to the pile before paying the driver.

“Want the audio tour?” he asked as they strode inside the museum.

“What?” Lexie shook her head to relinquish her daydream about kissing her trainer in the back of a New York City cab.

“We can use our phones, hook them up to MoMA’s free wifi.”

“Uh, no thanks.” A knot formed in the pit of her stomach at his