CHAPTER THREE
QUINCY
I walked out of yoga class feeling warm and loose. Not bad for a workout that didn’t involve me pushing limits and proving something to everyone around me.
Yoga wasn’t my thing, but it was a nice break from my usual training. I was a Navy pilot. I preferred running, lifting weights, or Crossfit. But I’d moved to a small town, and my circle of friends was even smaller. So if I got invited to a 6 a.m. yoga class with the only three women I knew in Sparks, I had to go.
It was better than another workout with the guys.
Scratch that. It was better than working out with Kennedy. Because the man was Adonis in gym shorts, and every time I got physically near him it made me want to get physical with him.
Which couldn’t happen again.
I liked Kennedy. Far more than I cared
