Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“Excuse me,” I said. I didn’t reach out and touch her—didn’t even raise my voice.
She turned to look at me, eyes still insanely wide and looking like she’d done something wrong.
“Are you okay?” I said.
“I’m fine. Thanks. Um, great class,” she said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“I’m Rafe,” I said.
“Yeah, you introduced yourself to the class. I listened.”
“Of course. And you are?” I smiled and asked.
“I’m Lexi Conners.”
“Good to meet you,” I said, putting out my hand. She took it tentatively, as if she was reluctant to touch me.
“I learned a lot,” she said, “I may come back on Friday.”
“I hope you do. Listen, you looked a little freaked out in there. I’m done here and I thought I’d see if you wanted to go grab a cup of coffee. I can answer any questions you have about the class. And if this class isn’t a good fit for you, I can recommend another one about six blocks over. The teacher’s a friend of mine. It’s a woman, if you’re more comfortable with women,” I offered.
“I don’t have a problem with men,” she said, “But I’m okay. It was nice of you to be concerned.”
“The diner is right next door. They have great pie,” I said. I wanted her to say yes, but I wasn’t going to pressure her, especially if she’d been hurt or threatened, she didn’t need that. So, I stood back and waited.
“I like pie,” she agreed. “I guess I have time for one cup of coffee. I’m not in a hurry to get home just yet. I had a long day.”
“Great,” I said.
I grinned. I couldn’t help it. I knew that it was just business, that I was taking an interest in what she hoped to gain from a self-defense class, how to help her adapt her lifestyle to improve her safety. But I felt a rush of excitement, like I’d just picked up a really pretty girl.
“I’ll meet you there. I just need to run in here for a second,” she said, indicating the women’s locker room.
I went next door to Lacy’s and got a booth where I could see the door. I held the laminated menu in front of me like I was really reading it even though I’d eaten there at least twice a week for the last few years. When Lexi came through the door, I stood, lifted a hand to wave. She saw me and came to the booth. Her hair was down. That tight ponytail was gone, and in its place was a cloud of soft, shiny dark hair spilling over her shoulders. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It seemed almost indecent, like I was seeing something so private.
She took a menu and scanned it, “I didn’t really eat lunch today so I’m starving.”
“Well, you said it was a long day. You were probably too busy to get hungry,” I said.
“Not really. I was just—not in the right frame of mind to eat anything.”
The waiter came over and took our order. I was having coffee and pie, and Lexi was having a patty melt with bacon. Extra fries. I admired her order, making conversation.
“I think if you’d come here and just ordered tea or a salad, I’d tell you to have some protein so you could get stronger for self-defense purposes,” I said.
“The bacon ought to take care of that. Bacon makes you strong, right? Or was that spinach?” she joked.
“I think it’s kale,” I said.
“I hate kale. My supervisor at work makes kale chips at home and brings them in to share like it’s some big treat. I want to know who the joker is who came up with that idea. Like how about we bake some lettuce and see if anybody eats it?” she said.
I laughed. She was funny. I told her how I got interested in teaching self-defense as our food arrived. Lexi nodded along with my story while taking a huge bite out of her burger. I snatched a salty fry before she could protest with her mouth full.
“You know that’s why I want to learn that nose strike from class. So I can take down anyone who tries to steal my fries.”
“You’re pretty protective of your carbs.”
“Yeah, don’t try to talk keto around me. I love potatoes. And bread.”
“Relax, I’m not trying to take away your starches.”
“You’re a personal trainer. I figured you’d be all serious about the protein powder and the super foods.”
“Hello. I’m eating pie,” I said, pointing to my plate.
“Maybe you’re trying to lure me in with bait and switch. Tell me I can eat pie anytime I want as long as I follow the workouts, and then once I’ve signed up for a zillion training sessions you tell me I can only have raw blueberries and spelt.”