Free A Taste of You by Sorcha Grace Page B

walk-in cooler. Even in this incredible heat, I could still feel the cold air and William’s fingers caressing my skin.
    “Are you cold, Cat?” Beckett murmured. He was supposed to have his eyes closed. The instructor was saying something about a meadow and deep breathing, and we should have been listening.
    “Just thinking about last night.”
    “Oh, really?” The rest of the class shifted into Standing Head to Knee Pose, and we followed. “The memories are that good, huh?” Beckett wobbled, and I struggled to find my balance.
    “So a bourbon, neat, magically appeared after he seated you at the bar?” Beckett said, recapping our discussion before class.
    “He didn’t exactly seat me. He didn’t give me a lot of choice.” My leg trembled from the effort it took to hold the position, and I grit my teeth. The instructor would have been so disappointed.
    “A man who knows what he wants and goes for it,” Beckett said, sliding into a Standing Bow. He was in the zone now. “I like it.”
    So did I, much to my chagrin. Through the Balancing Stick and the Triangle and the Tree Pose, I filled Beckett in on the rest of the evening, and when I finished he looked thoughtful—not an easy feat in the Toe Stand Pose. “So… would you have gone all the way?”
    “Huh?” I was struggling to get my ankle on top of my knee. There. Balance… balance.
    “Would you have fucked him in the deep freeze?”
    My leg buckled, and I went down on my bottom with a thud. The instructor frowned at me, and Beckett grinned, while managing to look at peace. His blond hair was plastered to his head, and his muscles were standing out from the tension of holding the pose. I wondered what William would look like all hot and sweaty.
    “He’s right, you know,” Beckett said when we were lying on our backs.
    “About what?”
    “About the chemistry. That kind of attraction doesn’t happen every day. Look at me. I’ve been trying to find it for years. And every time I think I’ve found Mr. Hot and Heavy, he ends up scorching me.”
    I reached across our mats and took Beckett’s hand. “You’re going to find the right guy, Beckett. You just need to stop looking in bars.”
    “It worked for you!”
    “It didn’t work for me. I’m not seeing him again.”
    “Oh, yes, you are! You can’t drop him. Not until you fuck him. I have to hear all about how William Lambourne is in bed.”
    “Beckett!” We were close, but there were some things I couldn’t imagine sharing in detail.
    “No, seriously, Cat.” His expression sobered. “He’s the perfect guy for you.” Beckett held up a finger. “The chemistry is there.” Another finger. “He obviously wants you.” Another finger. “And he’s a commitment-phobe.”
    We turned onto our bellies for the Cobra Pose. “He’s a commitment-phobe?”
    “Do you know what Google is, darling? Search for commitment-phobe, and William Lambourne’s picture pops up. Okay, not literally. But that’s his thing. He’s never with one woman for long. No long-term girlfriends as far I can tell. He loves them and leaves them. He’s perfect.”
    I dropped onto my mat, burying my face in the rubber and latex. “All I found on Google were a bunch of boring business articles. And exactly how is a guy who’s a commitment-phobe perfect for me?”
    “You need to dig deeper. But more importantly, you need a rebound guy.”
    I shook my head. “No. I just can’t, Beckett.”
    “Cat,” Beckett said, dropping his pose too. “It’s okay to get on with your life. You have to move on at some point. It’s been three years.”
    I’d heard all this before, and logically, I knew Beckett was right, but that didn’t change the way I felt inside. I didn’t want to look at Beckett so I moved into the Locust Pose. “I’m not ready.”
    “You’re ready. Besides, you’ll never know if you don’t give it a shot. A rebound guy is a good way to test the waters.”
    “I’ve never had a rebound guy