Page 10 of The Dating Ban (Mind the Corbin Brothers #1)

Just Friends

Ivy

E very single muscle in my body is screaming.

I was sore after the yoga class with Theo and Lucy, but after my deeply unwise decision to do another full session at home, I’ve officially ascended to a new level of physical misery.

Walking to Pee-Pee’s office feels like some kind of cruel endurance test. Every step sends a fresh wave of pain through my legs. My arms ache every time I lift them. Even my ribs hurt.

What kind of exercise makes your ribs hurt?

I reach the steps of her office and grip the railing like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. One step. Two. Three—ow.

If Pee-Pee asks how I’m feeling today, I might just collapse, stare at the ceiling, and inform her that self-improvement is a scam.

I lower myself onto Pee-Pee’s therapy sofa with the grace of a one-legged giraffe, groaning as my legs protest the movement.

Pee-Pee watches me over the rim of her glasses. Her trusted cardigan is a pastel shade of peach today. “Rough morning?”

I let out a dramatic sigh. “Phyllis, I have made a terrible mistake.”

She clasps her hands together, looking far too intrigued. “Do tell.”

I wave a limp hand. “Yoga.”

She smiles knowingly. “Ah. First step of finding yourself.”

“The only thing I found was pain,” I correct.

“No one warns you about that part. They all make it sound so calm. So zen.” I gesture vaguely in the air.

“‘Oh, just breathe through it, Ivy. Just find your inner stillness, Ivy. Just contort yourself into unnatural shapes while pretending this is completely fine, Ivy.’”

She chuckles. “Walk me through it.”

I sigh. “Well, I failed on my first try and then Theo dragged me to the parent and kids’ yoga session.

And after that I thought I can do the stupid Yoga for Dummies thing.

So I promised myself, this time will be different.

I’ll be serious about it. No skipping ahead.

No quitting halfway through. No dramatic flopping onto the floor and declaring myself unfit for human movement. ”

Pee-Pee nods, looking amused. “ Go on.”

“So, there I am, stretching, bending, definitely not shaking,” I lie. “But don’t even get me started on Downward Facing Dog—because apparently, I have zero upper body strength.”

Pee-Pee bites back a smile. “And yet, you did the whole session.”

I pause, slightly begrudging. “I did.”

She raises an eyebrow. “And?”

I sigh again, slumping dramatically. “And it wasn’t horrible until I woke up this morning.”

She looks far too satisfied with that answer. “So, you might actually enjoy it?”

I scoff. “Let’s not get carried away.”

She leans back in her chair. “You said before that you’ve always fallen into things… relationships, activities, decisions, without really choosing them for yourself. Would you say yoga was something you chose?”

I frown slightly. “I mean… technically, yes.”

She nods. “And how did it feel to commit to something just for you?”

I hesitate.

Because, if I’m really honest… it felt good. Not in a Wow, I’ve found my life’s calling way, but in a Huh, maybe I don’t completely suck at following through way.

I huff. “I hate how well you know me.”

She chuckles but then tilts her head slightly. “And this whole experience… you did it entirely on your own?”

“Yep,” I say quickly.

Pee-Pee just looks at me. I shift under her gaze, suddenly feeling like a teenager caught sneaking in past curfew.

One eyebrow lifts. “Who is that Theo you mentioned? ”

I wave a dismissive hand. “I may have attended one class with him and his Lucy… I mean, his daughter, first, just to get a feel for it.” There is no reply from Pee-Pee.

Clearly, she wants more. I clear my throat.

“He owns the café underneath my flat and we got talking and he told me about this yoga class. On Mondays. But that’s not relevant. ”

“Of course not,” she says smoothly. “Completely irrelevant.”

I narrow my eyes. “I don’t like your tone.”

She just smiles. “So, tell me more about this entirely irrelevant Theo.”

“You’re making this a thing, and it’s really not a thing.”

“I’m simply asking about the entirely unremarkable Theo.”

I groan, letting my head fall back against the sofa. “He’s just this guy. A single dad. He had the weird idea to open a Viennese coffee shop. We met by coincidence, and now, somehow, I’ve been recruited into his daughter’s yoga routine.”

Pee-Pee nods, her expression unreadable. “And you’re just… friends?”

“Yes,” I say, sitting up a little straighter. “We are just friends.”

“And why would that be a problem?”

“It’s not a problem.”

Pee-Pee just waits. I fidget.

“I just… I don’t know. I don’t want to fall into old patterns.”

She nods. “And what would that look like?”

“You know, getting too comfortable, prioritising someone else’s presence over figuring out what I actually want. This whole thing is about focusing on myself, and if I let someone in too much, I might not do that.”

Pee-Pee considers my reply. “That’s fair. But does being his friend mean you’re abandoning yourself?”

I hesitate. “Not… necessarily.”

She leans forward slightly. “So then, what would it take for you to feel secure in the friendship? What boundaries would you need?”

I chew on my lip. “I guess… I’d need to make sure I’m still making decisions for me. Not changing my plans just to fit around his. And I’d need to be honest with myself if I ever started feeling like I was slipping into something more.”

Pee-Pee nods. “That sounds reasonable.”

I exhale, some of the tension easing out of my shoulders. “Okay. But how do I know the difference? Like, if I help out with Lucy sometimes, am I just being a good friend, or am I subconsciously moulding myself into whatever he needs?”

Phyllis nods slowly, pausing as if contemplating what best to say. Although I’m pretty sure she knows exactly what to say. That woman has an answer to everything.

“That’s a really good question. What do you think the difference is?” I thought I pay her to give me the answers?

I frown. “I guess… if I actually want to do it, that’s one thing. But if I feel like I have to, or like saying no would disappoint him, then maybe that’s a red flag?”

Pee-Pee nods. “Exactly. Friendship isn’t about obligation. If you’re doing something because you genuinely want to—not because you’re afraid of letting him down—then you’re still making choices for yourself.”

I let out a slow breath. “Okay. That makes sense. ”

Pee-Pee smiles but then studies me for a moment before asking, “Can I ask you something?”

I lift a brow. “Have you ever stopped yourself before?”

She smirks. “Fair point. But seriously—why do you even think you might be interested in him?”

I blink. “What?”

She shrugs. “You’re acting like you need to keep your distance to avoid something. But if he’s really just a friend, why does that even cross your mind?”

I hesitate.

Because, well… huh.

“I don’t know,” I admit slowly. “I guess… maybe because it would be easy? He’s nice. I like spending time with him. He makes me laugh. I can be myself with him.” I wave a hand. “But none of that means I actually like him like that.”

Pee-Pee nods. “Then maybe the real question is: Are you afraid of falling into something you don’t want, or are you afraid of wanting it?”

I scowl. “I’m starting to regret ever talking to you.”

She grins. “I know. But you keep doing it anyway.”

I groan, flopping back against the sofa again. “Ugh. Why do you always make so much sense?”

Pee-Pee smirks. “It’s a gift.”

To be honest, Pee-Pee has been a life saver after the divorce from Barry… Baz, as he likes to be called. Knobhead.

My brother put me onto Phyllis. She helped his husband Henry come out when he was at SOAS, back when he was still trying to date women and convince everyone he was just really into existentialism.

Thomas and I aren’t close, not really, but when he found out Barry had been cheating—after everything, after the appointments and the tests and me still trying to hope for some sort of miracle—he went all big brother and was ready to drive down from Birmingham and knock some sense into him.

Said it didn’t matter if we hadn’t spoken properly in ages, Barry needed a reality check.

He is in the gym five days a week and looks like he could bench press a hatchback.

Barry wouldn’t have stood a chance. It took me and Henry to convince him that the knobhead wasn’t worth it.

I roll my eyes at Phyllis but smile at the thought of my brother going after Baz. “Alright, fine. Maybe I’ll stop actively dodging him.”

Pee-Pee’s eyes twinkle. “How generous of you.”

I snort. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t say ‘I told you so’ if it backfires.”

She grins. “I would never.”

I squint at her. “Lies.”

Pee-Pee just chuckles, and for the first time in days, I feel like I might have a handle on this.

As I push open the door to the coffee shop, the bell overhead gives a half-hearted jingle, like it’s too tired to fully commit this late in the day.

The place is mostly dark, save for the warm glow of the counter lights, and behind them, Theo is wiping down the espresso machine with the kind of focus usually reserved for brain surgery.

“We are closing,” he says without looking up.

“I think I’ll survive. ”

He glances at me then, his mouth curving into an easy grin. “I don’t know. I’ve seen you uncaffeinated. It’s not pretty.”

I gasp in mock offense. “I’ll have you know, I am a delight at all hours.”

Theo hums like he’s considering it. “Hmm. Jury’s still out.”

I make a face at him, sticking out my tongue like a mature adult.

His grin widens. “Ah, yes. The universal sign of emotional intelligence.”

I huff but can’t quite fight back a smile as I slide onto my stool at the counter. Not my stool, obviously, because I don’t have a usual stool. That would imply I spend too much time here. Which I don’t. Obviously.

He finishes wiping down the machine, then leans against the counter, arms crossed, looking at me expectantly. “So… to what do I owe the pleasure?”