Page 12 of Deceptive Desires (The Syndicate #2)

Cecilia

I walk out of the clinic with a smile on my face. Not only was Dr. Sanders not in today, but also, I teach my six p.m. class.

It’s a beginner’s session, but that doesn’t matter. I love teaching yoga no matter who the student is. And I love when someone tries something new, especially if it’s good for them. I’ll always support that.

I feel eyes on me as I walk to the studio and glance around, but no one’s watching me. After a few more minutes, I look over my shoulder again. There still isn’t anyone looking at me. I’m acting crazy. I really need the class today to calm myself.

I reach the studio, but chance one more glance behind me. There’s still no one.

I take a few calming breaths and focus on my mantra of the day. ‘Be open to new beginnings, and trust in yourself.’

With that, I open the door and head inside.

I wave at Courtney, the receptionist. She’s a tall blonde always sporting a smile. When she sees me, she comes around the desk and greets me with a hug.

“How was your day, Cecilia?” Her tone shows genuine interest.

“It’s been a great day. One of my favorite patients came to the clinic, and now I get to teach this class,” I respond with a smile.

“We’re so lucky to have you here. The attendees always praise your sessions.”

“Thank you, Courtney. I’m always glad to be here.” It’s the truth. I feel lighter every time I enter the studio. “I need to get ready, but it was great seeing you.”

I make my way to the locker room and change into a pair of yoga pants and a matching pale-yellow sports bra. I dress in colors that speak to what the session will be about. Today’s session is about finding our inner happiness, so yellow it is.

***

After an excellent class full of happy faces, I’m back on the street heading home.

I feel lighter, more at peace. Yoga and meditation always help me center myself. I’m grateful for every opportunity I have to share it with others.

Once I get to my apartment, I head to my bedroom to drop off my bag. I grab my pajamas and go to the bathroom.

I stop mid-undressing when a strong whiff of my perfume hits me. It lingers in the air, mixed with an unfamiliar musky scent.

I check my bottle, but it’s right where I left it, the lid fully on. There aren’t any leaks or spills. How odd.

I shake off the confusion and finish undressing.

Once I’m out of the shower, I let my hair air dry and go to the kitchen to cook dinner.

Gracie is already in here, sitting at the counter with her computer.

“Grading or homework tonight?” I ask her. Since she’s a student and a graduate assistant, she has a mix of her own homework and studying as well as grading work of the students in her classes.

“Both. I have an exam in two days that I need to study for, but I also have fifty-four more papers to grade by the end of the week. There simply isn’t enough time in the day,” she grumbles.

“I’m sorry. I’d help if I knew anything about your studies. How about I make dinner?” I offer in hopes of lifting her spirits.

“Yes, please. What’s on the menu?” she all but begs.

“I have some frozen fish we can bake, or would you prefer I get some chicken from the store?”

“No, don’t leave. You’re already in your pjs. Let’s do fish tonight.” I can’t tell if she wants me to stay to keep her company or to not inconvenience me. Probably both.

“Perfect!”

I take out the cod, season it, and place it on a sheet pan. Then I chop up a medley of vegetables. Once the oven is preheated and the veggies are also seasoned, I put them and the fish in the oven.

I sit down next to her and look at my phone indecisively.

I open it and stare at his contact.

Hero.

It’s been a few days since I last saw him, and despite it being unreasonable, I miss him. I know he gave me his number and instructed me to reach out when I was better, but I also know it was an empty offer. He doesn’t want to hear from the girl he saved.

Gracie grunts next to me. Next to my ear to be exact.

“Have you seriously not texted him yet?” She sighs from over my shoulder. She’s hovering next to me, staring at my screen displaying his number.

“He doesn’t actually want me to reach out. He was just being nice,” I explain.

“You don’t actually believe that, right?” When I shrug, she rolls her eyes. “Girl, he wouldn’t have helped you then come by to check on you then demanded you text him when you’re better if he wasn’t interested. That was not an empty offer.”

“But why would he want me to reach out to him?”

“Don’t be dense. He wants you. He’s so interested, it’s not even funny. Give him a chance. Text him,” she pushes, and I know I need her to.

“What do I even say?” I need help. I have no idea how to talk to men. But I also don’t think Gracie does either. I’ve never seen her interact in a non-hostile manner to one.

“Start with ‘Hi! This is Cecilia. The damsel in distress that you saved. Let’s get together and roll around in the sheets all night. Oh, and I’m a virgin, so teach me your wicked ways, my sexy God of Darkness.

’” Her tone switches to an airy, high-pitched voice when she speaks as me, and I’m almost offended.

“I am not saying that!” I gasp in horror. “I’m not going to sleep with him! I don’t even know him!”

“Semantics,” she defends. “Fine, just reach out and see if he’s busy tomorrow night.”

“But I’m busy tomorrow night,” I say, confused. “We’re going to that club, remember? For Leo’s birthday.”

“Exactly. Invite him to come with us. That way it isn’t exactly a date, but if he comes, that means he’s interested. And it’s a controlled environment. And I’ll be there to protect you.”

“Oh… That actually makes sense. Maybe–” I’m cut off by the oven timer going off.

I take dinner out of the oven and plate everything. When I sit back down, I try to change the subject.

“So, what class is the exam in?”

“Nope. Take out your phone and text him now,” she orders, leaving no room for argument.

“Okay. But what do I say?” I ask sheepishly. I’ve never done this before.

“Just text him ‘Hey, it’s Cecilia. I’m no longer concussed and wanted to thank you for helping me.’”

“Yes! That’s great!” I type it up and just stare at the words.

“Now press send,” she instructs slowly.

I take a deep breath and hit send.

Me: Hey, it’s Cecilia. I’m no longer concussed and wanted to thank you for helping me.

I turn off my phone and start to place it face-down on the counter, but it buzzes, signaling a call.

Hero.

My heart skips a beat then starts racing.

“Answer it!” Gracie says. “Cecilia, answer the phone right now, or I’ll answer it for you.”

But I can’t move. I just stay frozen. Gracie shakes me, snapping me out of my stupor.

I pick up my phone.

I push my finger on the green button.

And I hold my breath.