KICK IT | JENLISA

54

Jennie

Lisa's tall frame stole the back row centre mat position seven times a week outside our Wednesday sessions. Ignoring her became more exhausting than teaching and planning. The only classes she didn't attend were the therapy ones.

"Hey Jennie." she greeted me with a smirk every time, which widened as she greeted every fucking member of her 'pick me next' fan club.

After a workweek of daily Lisa exposure, the stubborn ass tried to attend Tuesday's therapy class. I tossed her ass out. Twice. I regretted the challenge as soon as the words slipped out. "Not until I say so, Manoban."

So, of course, she came back on Thursday.

"Reserved mats only." With a straight-armed finger pointed out into the hallway, I gritted my teeth. The veins on the side of my neck threatened to burst.

"Jennie?" Her giant fishhook hand snared my upper arm and encircled my bicep. Hot breaths passed over my ear and intermixed with her frustrated whispers, "You're avoiding me again."

The homing beacon that pulsed between my legs and vibrated my clit needed an off switch. So did the goose bumps on the side of my neck. "No. Thanks to you, I am working." Forty eyes watched our daily drama special, but her hand squeezed tighter. With a glare at her shackled hold, I wanted to burn those million-dollar fingers off. "Let me go."

The right corner of her mouth twitched. "No."

"What then!?" Anger surged through my veins. The Houston logo on her pec blurred as I squinted and jabbed her cement wall of a chest. "I'm done with all the unprofessional bullshit. Stop flirting, teasing, and treating yoga like a joke. You want to be in this class? Quit with the distractions and show me that you're serious."

Her eyes dropped to where my finger dented her shirt fabric. She had the nerve to lift those pretty brown eyes, prettier the way they twinkled with amusement. She knew she was under my skin. Probably made her hard.

"Sounds like you're the one distracted, Jennie."

Ooh! So arrogant. I flared my nostrils flared and sucked in a sharp breath. "The only one of us that is taking your rehab seriously is me. You seem to forget that I lost my job because of..."

Shit. I wanted those words back as soon as they slipped out. This was not the time or place to unpack her charities' asshole profit margins.

Her eyes narrowed. "Because of what?"

The air thickened between us and weakened my gaze. I could only focus on the space between her eyebrows. She stepped closer, the shorter distance flattening my palm into a heart stamp over the warm, quick beats. "It's nothing." I blinked. She was too close. Concern swam too deep in her eyes again. Why did she have to look at me like that? "Never mind. The point is..."

"It's not nothing." Her eyes slanted into narrow slits and her nostrils twitched. "And you forget who is paying you for that lost salary."

Old me would've thrown a hailstorm of curse words and insults at her, then retaliated with more nut-crushing twists and lunges that destroyed the possibility of Lisa having children. The shackles of professional restraint burned my chest hotter than Irene's Five-Alarm chili. "Class is full." I whispered and closed the door on her puppy frown. Without a glance at the grins and smirks, I pointed to the floor. "Show's over. Find Savasana."

No one moved, and my fisted hands met my hips. "What?"

A few eyes shifted to each other, then Phil cleared his throat. "Was that, uhh... Lisa..."

"Yes." I palmed my forehead. "Lisa Manoban. I apologise for the distraction caused by her existence."

Their hum of testosterone-laden admiration was neither expected nor appreciated. "If she wants to join, then..."

"Nope." I cut off Tyler's offer because of the beaming stars in his eyes and nods from others.

Warmth lingered between my thighs, which I squeezed as I knelt on my mat. My chest expanded with a deep breath and masked the ooze of distractions that seeped into my pores. I didn't need a mask; I needed a full skin abrasion. Lisa Manoban was going to drive me to therapy, a gun range, or both.

At the twitch in my left eye's lower lid, I buried my feelings deep in my gut. My class deserved better. The usual polite class smile left my cheeks aching by the end of meditation. Lately, I flashed fewer full teeth for my dentist, but I saved the widest ones for Lisa.

The next morning, she got a mouthful from me. Damn that smirk. "Hey, Jennie."

With glazed vision, I moved around the room's edges. Each class Lisa attended became a yoga parkour obstacle to distance me from the muscular behemoth. And Lisa saw right through me. With no reaction from the room's attention, my skin warmed under the heat of her gaze. One-on-one, I focused on Lisa's meditation challenges to avoid conversations. I skirted out and skipped her offered lunch.

"I need to water my pet rock or alphabetise my toothbrushes." I mumbled over my shoulder during my latest hurried escape.

"Stop avoiding me." she whispered with a bear claw grip around my wrist.

How had she caught me so fast? Her expression was soaked in care. Why? I had no fucking clue. Whatever she looked for, I lost the possibility of reciprocation with Taehyung. I shrugged off her hand and feigned ignorance. "Focus on your rehab, Lisa. More than one of us needs to."

Her only response was a clenched jaw. Was I a bitch to push her away? Absolutely. Did she deserve it? No. Were the fangirls her fault? Not entirely. Did she relent for the rest of the week? Of course not.