My lungs are billowing from my chest as his joke hangs in the air between us, me over by the window, and him standing rigidly by the door. His eyes are wide with shock.
It takes me only a split second more to regain my posture. A quick few taps on my wrists, three taps to my third eye and I’m composed, although my mind’s a complete blank.
He continues to stare at me bog-eyed, his eyebrows up near his hairline. He takes a step forward before obviously thinking better of it. This is not going to go well. I see a myriad of emotions cross his face as he opens and closes his mouth, lost for words.
Hardly a great surprise.
I take in his rakish good looks and his fashionable shorts. Not too long. Not too short. And wait for further comments on my demonstrative display of mental collapse.
He shakes his head as he lazily takes in my insane, dishevelled appearance. He notices I am only wearing one shoe. The other having flung off during the rolling about. I can feel something stuck to my face. I slowly reach up and peel off a bright yellow post-it note from my cheek. It’s a reminder from Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen that the International Coaching Federation called about my certificate. I look wild-eyed at him as I take in his bamboozled expression.
‘Sorry, Nell’ he says. ‘Sorry to interrupt your… um… yoga?’
Yoga? Yoga? Like I’d have the fecking patience for yoga at a time like this!
‘I was clearing a blockage. My erm… chakra. It’s blocked.’
‘Blockage. Right, right, of course.’ He’s making it sound like a plumbing issue.
‘Well, it’s more of a…’
How to describe it?Complete and utter breakdown? Monumental collapse of one’s sanity?
‘… an advanced form of throat singing.’
As our eyes meet, I detect a dangerous, playful, confidence.
‘You have an air freshener sticking out of your hair.’ He has clamped his lips together. His shoulders are beginning to shake.
I remain unmoved. I’m not going to nurture his behaviour one little bit. I suppose he has had a bit of a shock catching me unawares like that. And shock can manifest itself in inappropriate ways, such as the need to giggle.
I wait two minutes.
And another two.
Finally, he composes himself, but his eyes are glassy. This is bloody ridiculous. I am a professional woman for goodness’ sake. I let out an elaborate sigh. ‘Why are you here?’ I snap impatiently. ‘I specifically said I didn’t want to see you.’
Christ, but he’s got me rattled.
‘Why have you come back?’ I repeat crossly.
‘My phone. It must have dropped out of my pocket when you were strong-arming me out the door. I came straight back but you were with a client.’
I follow his gaze to the seat where he’d been sitting during the session just over an hour ago. There is a flat object on it.
‘Anyway, I wanted to apologise for the misunderstanding earlier. I realise now, how what I said could’ve been misconstrued.’ Oliver strides over to retrieve his phone. He turns it over to inspect it before tucking it in his pocket. I am entranced by how fluidly he moves for such a beefcake. ‘I came to ask you out on a date.’
Oh.
Chapter 16
Adate?We take a moment to stare at each other.
‘Although, I’m not so sure now. I’ve literally been gone an hour. How has this,’ he says, flapping his hand at me, ‘happened in the meantime?’
It’s a very fair question, but I’ll keep the focus squarely on him. ‘We all cope in different ways,’ I say graciously.
I immediately see that he is thinking that’s a bit rich coming from a woman of questionable sanity who has just been caught flailing about on the floor.
