My what if.

I don’t want it to end, but I’m aware of it ending with every step we take back in the direction of my apartment.

“Thank you for checking up on me,” I say, glancing down to avoid his perceptive eyes noticing my disappointment that our time together didn’t last a whole life.

I turn away and hear his voice.

“Bryn.” The way he says my name causes a pleasant tremor down my legs as he stops at the door. “There’s a dinner I’m hosting next weekend on Saturday evening. I’d like you to meet some important people. People that can eventually help—store owners, designers, marketers. Wear one of your pieces—look like a million bucks. Got it?”

I grin, my heart taking a record leap in my chest. “Got it.”

Bryn

“Push up into down dog,” the teacher says.

I go on all fours and lift my ass in a pyramid when I hear Sara whisper, “I saw him in the paper this morning. Did you see the socials section?”

“No. I’ve got better things to do,” I say, moving into cobra pose.

“I bet you do,” she snickers, pulling her legs behind her. “Your hotshot real estate tycoon is in there.”

Thud. “Right. Like he’s not everywhere anyway.”

“Silence!” we hear.

My eyes widen and fly to the teacher, and I purse my lips and continue my yoga flow. It’s really hard to find my zen with Sara nudging me.

“Apparently, the woman he’s dating is some rich socialite. Her hands were all over him and he looked like stone. Like he was literally made of stone.”

“I really don’t want to talk about him,” I beg. I need a distraction, anything to keep me from getting hung up on this bit of information. Anything to keep from searching for him online. Anything to keep from thinking about him. And the fact that he’s with another woman.

I had my chance, and I wasn’t ready for him then.

And now he’s moved on. He’s a powerful businessman. All I have is a chance to do business with him, and I’m barely holding onto that. So far, he’s started vetting me, but I still haven’t gotten a formal yes. Or a check.

He’s a risk taker, but even then, he’s not yet taking the risk on me.

Not that I didn’t blow it getting drunk and talking about V cards and shit! Ugh. I’ve emailed with him some information on my plan, but he’s been curt and businesslike in his responses. Simply “received” or “got it” or “thanks.”

I’m afraid I’ve fucked this up royally!

“You really don’t want to talk about him?” she asks seriously.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because”—I pause as the teacher glances at me and wait for her to look away—“I can’t stop thinking about having sex with him.”

Sara bursts out laughing.

“Ladies!” the teacher barks.

I smile and bite down on my tongue, struggling to remain silent for the rest of the hour.

“Apparently they’re speculating an engagement soon,” she says as we roll up our mats at the end of class.

“Oh.”

“See…” She grabs her phone and scrolls through some pictures. “That’s him a year ago. Dubbed the most eligible NY bachelor. Now they’re saying she may have snagged him for good.” She swipes the screen.

“Then this was taken last week.”

I look at the photo. He’s at some sort of posh black-tie event, his blonde at his side laying a hand on his chest as if she’s claiming him.

My stomach aches.

She tucks the phone back into her pocket as we head to the showers. “If you want him, you need to move fast.”

“I’m not making a move. We’re going to be in business together.”

“He hasn’t made you pick…business or pleasure, has he?” Sara challenges with a quirked brow. “Have both!”

“I cannot have both, so stop with this talk. You talk sex all day only because you’re starved for it.”

“No, you know I’m not. I had sex with the sexiest man alive but since I haven’t been able to figure out his name, I’m saving myself until I find him again.”

I glance at her. “Do you really not know his name? How long ago was this?”

“A few months. His room was booked under a company name. They always send different executives. I really don’t know his name. But that’s all right. I bet he can’t top it a second time. If I can’t find him, then I’d rather keep the memory.”

For a moment she looks wistful, and I realize Sara is actually really into this one-night-stand guy.

“See? You’ve gone celibate, so now you’re trying to make me act like a slut?”

“Christ doesn’t want me. If he wanted me, I’d be all over that.”

“Christ-os,” I correct. “And I should never have told you the story,” I tell her. “It wasn’t like he proposed or professed undying love for me. We were in high school. He was just…interested. And I was scared. It’s been forever now. The end.”

Sara shrugs and we undress, get our towels, and step into the showers. I place myself under the spray, and I picture Aaric touching my bare skin, his mouth tasting me. I dislike the fact that I’m thinking about it, thinking of him. I have my own issues to deal with. I can’t sleep without setting off alarm clocks every two hours in case of a fire. I’m afraid to love because losing the closest people in my life was devastating enough. I can’t risk it. One more loss would destroy me.