The Birthday List(11)
“What was that, Sensei?” a green belt asked.
“Oh, uh, I said your kata is really coming together.”
“Thanks!”
I did my best not to touch Poppy through the rest of class, but even with the pads as a barrier, we brushed every now and then. By the time our thirty minutes were up, I was desperate for a cold shower.
“How’d she do?” Robert asked, joining us before class ended.
“Good.” I cleared the block in my throat. “She’s a natural.”
“Ha,” Poppy scoffed. “More like a klutz. I kicked his fingers more than I kicked the pad.” Her big blue eyes looked up to me for her hundredth apology. “Sorry.”
“Like I said, I’m fine. It didn’t hurt a bit.”
She turned to Robert and smiled. “Thank you for having me tonight.”
“Glad you joined us. Come back anytime.”
“I appreciate the offer and letting me try this out, but I don’t think karate is for me.”
Robert nodded. “Fair enough. It’s not for everyone. If you ever change your mind, you’re always welcome.” He shook hands with Poppy and then called for the entire class to bow out.
Without a word, Poppy scurried to the door, her hair swishing across her back as she disappeared into the locker room.
The sight of her retreating hit me in the gut. She wasn’t coming back to the dojo and I didn’t want to wait another five years to see her again. So instead of visiting with the other students, I hurried to the lobby and waited for Poppy to come out of the ladies’ room.
It didn’t take her more than a minute to emerge into the hall with keys in hand and sneakers on her feet. The moment she spotted me, her feet stopped short. “Oh, hi.”
“I, um . . . I just wanted to say it was nice to see you.”
“Thanks.” She took a few steps toward the door.
“Wait,” I blurted before she could leave. “Can I see you again? To catch up.”
She stopped and turned, a war waging behind her eyes. She didn’t want to say yes. She didn’t want to say no. “I don’t know.”
It was honest.
Honest, I could work with.
“Will you at least think about it?”
“All right.” She started for the door again, but just before she touched the handle, she paused, speaking over her shoulder. “Thank you for staying with me that night.”
Then she was gone before I could even say you’re welcome.
“Fuck,” I grumbled and rubbed my face.
“What was that?” Robert had appeared by my side.
“Oh, nothing. Just a long day. I’d better get changed.”
I hustled into the locker room, not wanting to stick around for the chatter tonight, and waved good-bye before heading home.
What I needed was a beer—or three—and some time alone to think.
Something about Poppy was different, and it wasn’t just the extreme circumstances we’d met under. No woman had ever stirred my blood like she had tonight, not even Aly.
Aly, whose car was sitting in my driveway, blocking the garage, when I pulled up to my house.
“Damn it. Not tonight.” I shook my head, parked my black truck on the street and stepped out just as she was coming through the front door with a box in her arms.
“Hey,” Aly said, walking down the steps from the porch.
I crossed the short sidewalk and met her by her car. “Hey.”
“Sorry. I was trying to be gone before you got home.”
“It’s okay. Here, let me help.” I reached out and lifted the box from her arms.
“Thanks.” She opened the back door of her car and I set the box inside. When I stood, she was twisting my house key off her chain. “Here you go.”
Our fingers brushed when I took it from her hand, but I didn’t get even a minor jolt. Touching Aly, the woman I’d dated for two years and lived with for six months, wasn’t anything compared to the touch I’d felt earlier with Poppy.
It cemented the decision I’d made last week. Breaking up with Aly hadn’t been easy, but it had been right.
“Cole.” She stepped closer, looking up at me with pleading eyes. The same eyes that she used whenever she wanted me to fuck her senseless.
“No, Aly.” I stepped back. “We both know that would just make this harder.”
Her shoulders tensed as she backed away. “Harder for me, you mean? Because you’re just fine. One week after we’re broken up and you’re back to normal. Like the last two years together meant nothing. Meanwhile, I’m living in my sister’s guest room, crying myself to sleep every night.”
“I’m—”
“Sorry. I know.” She slammed the car door closed and spun on her heel as she rounded the hood. She threw open the driver’s door but paused, looking at me from over her car. Then she waited.
“Take care of yourself, Aly.”
She huffed, then got in the car and backed out of the driveway, wiping tears off her cheeks.
I waited for her car to disappear down the street before going inside. Standing in my living room, I swept my eyes across the furniture. The toss pillows were gone. Aly had taken those, along with the throw blanket she had always used when we were watching TV.