Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“You are so fucked. Goats are the least of your problems.” He shakes his head, walking out of the room.
“I’m fucked? You’ve been walking around with a boner for your assistant. That’s even after she almost made your testicles explode!” I yell as he walks away, flipping me the bird in the air. “You don’t have a yoga mat I can borrow by chance?”
He just shakes his head till he turns the corner.
I pick up my phone and text Kaleigh.
Where does one buy a yoga mat and clothes?
Her answer is almost instant.
I’ve got you covered. Show up fifteen minutes before so you can change.
Perfect. See you there, friend.
I smile, putting the phone down, making a list of things we could talk about. Things friends talk about. Weather, politics, scratch that, no one talks about politics. So far weather. I buzz for Norma to come into my office. Once she comes in, I ask her, “Norma, what do you discuss with your friends who are male?” I pick up my pen, waiting for her answer to take notes.
“You can discuss a bunch of things. Weather, travel, your day, favorite food, schools, kids, sports. The list goes on and on, sir.”
I nod. “This is great. Thanks again, Norma.” I smile at her as she walks out. She turns around right before leaving.
“This look is good on you,” she says.
“What look is that?”
“Smitten,” she says, walking out, leaving me smiling.
Shit, if this is what smitten feels like. I look down at my dick. “Sorry, dude. I’ll take care of you as much as I can.”
Chapter Fourteen
Kaleigh
“You did what?” Stephanie yells at me while slapping the desk next to her.
“I told him we could be friends. Jesus, it’s not like I can’t be friends with a man.” I roll my eyes at her and pretend to check my nails so she doesn’t see the bullshit in my eyes.
“The only male friends you have are gay. Or husbands of friends.” She points at me accusingly. “You slept with him.”
“I’m aware. My vagina is still a little tender, thank you very much.” I glance around the studio.
“You never ever friend zone someone you did the dirty monkey with.” She picks up her water, taking a long gulp. “He’s that big?”
I roll my eyes again, not wanting to answer her questions. “Anyway, can you call Amelia and tell her to put him down and to bill me?”
“So let me get this straight, please, because I seem to be a tad confused. You meet this guy, hot guy, you have sex with him. Then he sends you a million roses. You blow him off.” She looks at me and I don’t say anything, so she continues, “Now he somehow cast a spell on you and you have given in to the cardinal rule that you will never be friends with people that have been inside you.” She tilts her head. “Am I right?”
“First thing, I was introduced to him by my sister. I didn’t go out to meet him. Second, women and men can be platonic friends. Apparently it’s been done before, or so I’ve been told. And third, I admit that I have the same thoughts that you just outlined, but Noah wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I just have to show him otherwise.” I fold my hands across my chest.
“This is going to be better than watching Bachelor in Paradise.” She slaps her hands together and rubs them.
I’m about to tell her that she’s being ridiculous when I get a text from Noah, telling me he doesn’t have a yoga mat or clothes. I laugh as I type my response, going to the rack of clothes hanging in the corner.
“Are you getting clothes for your friend who is a boy who you want to bounce on all night long?” she says, leaning over the counter to watch me grab a pair of loose shorts with matching tank top. “Why aren’t you getting him the tight pair of shorts?” she yells while I glare at her. “You know the ones we all stand by and watch the men in, the ones who shows if they are packing?”
“Put an ad in the paper for a receptionist.” I turn back around, grabbing him a blue yoga mat. “You’re fired,” I tell her, walking out, putting the stuff in my car and getting ready to go get the kids.
By the time I pull up to the yoga studio I see my friend Caroline, the owner of the studio, and Tammy, her partner. I grab the bag with Noah’s clothes and both our mats, walking to them with a smile. “Hey.” I kiss them both. “I’m so excited about tonight. Are the goats here already?” I ask them, searching for Noah.
“Yeah,” Tammy says, grabbing my hand. “Come inside and see we have about thirty of them and they are babies also.” I get dragged into the studio. It’s not as big as mine; it’s just one large room with a mirrored wall. There are some people setting up while the thirty goats get familiar with the room. The goats are all spaced out, some jumping on each other, some lying down. There are about ten to fifteen people already in the room. I see a couple of familiar people from my studio, so I smile and wave as I place the yoga mats down. I’m unrolling my mat and I’m about to sit on mine and start to stretch when Karen comes over.