The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

“I’m going to kick your ass if you don’t stop laughing,” he grumbled.

His threat only made me cackle harder. I actually snorted. “You’d have to be able to get out of that lock the silks have you in.”

“Why don’t you give the swan another try?” the yoga instructor said to Max as she untangled him. “You’re very good at that one.” Considering the swan was the most basic position—leaning forward and balancing across the fabric, without any twisting or turning—I thought that was a good idea.

“Yeah,” I said grinning. “You do a mean swan, Yearwood.”

He pointed at me. “You just wait.”

By the end of the class, Max did start to get the hang of it. The instructor had said he needed to make friends with the silks, instead of fighting them. And I had no doubt that given another class or two, he’d surpass the people who’d been practicing for years. His determination made him unstoppable.

I wiped sweat from my neck as I walked over to the instructor, who was cleaning up at the front of the room.

“Excuse me, Eden.”

“Yes?”

“I just want to confirm,” I glanced over at Max to make sure he was paying attention. “I did better than Max, correct?”

She frowned. “It’s not really about who did better.”

“Oh, it is to us. We’re a little bit…competitive.”

Eden still seemed troubled as she looked over at Max.

He rolled his eyes but nodded. “Just tell her she won.”

“No,” I said. “She shouldn’t just tell me I won. She should provide her honest opinion.”

Eden shook her head. “You both did very well. Max obviously struggled at the beginning, but he got the hang of it. He’s very strong, and that’s important as you move on to the more complicated poses.”

“But today—just solely based on how we did today—who did better?”

Max walked over. He slung his arm around my neck. “We’re going to work on getting her a counselor for her obsessiveness. But just so I don’t have to debate it with her all day, would you mind telling us who was better?”

Eden sighed. “Georgia was able to pick up the poses more easily.”

I fist pumped, which made Max chuckle.

We thanked Eden and told her we’d definitely be back for more classes. Outside on the street, Max still had his arm around my neck.

“You’re gloating,” he said. “Nobody likes a gloater.”

“Really, is that a saying? Because I thought it was nobody likes a loser.”

We were both laughing, and I almost completely forgot we were walking on the busy New York street, until…

“Georgia?”

The voice was familiar. I looked up to find a man who had been walking in the opposite direction had stopped on the street. He looked back and forth between Max and me.

“Josh Zelman,” he said. “I’m an English professor with...” He glanced at Max’s arm around my shoulder and changed course. “…over at NYU.”

Shoot. That’s right. I’d met him a few times at parties. I just couldn’t place him out of context. I forced a smile. “Yes, of course. Hi, Josh. It’s good to see you.”

“You, too.” He turned his attention to Max. “You look very familiar. Have we met?”

Max’s face was stern. “Nope.”

Josh kept staring. It looked like he was going through his mental Rolodex, trying to figure it out. Eventually, he shifted his eyes back to me. “Ellen was just talking about you the other day. We were at the spring mixer, and she said she was bored without you there.”

I forced a smile. “Please tell her I said hello.”

He nodded. “Will do. I’m actually running late for class. I wasn’t sure if it was you, but I figured I’d say hello.”

“Nice seeing you.”

Max slipped his hand from around my shoulder and stayed quiet as we started to walk again.

“That was… Josh is an English professor at NYU.”

“So he said.”

“He works with Gabriel. They’re good friends, actually.”

“Okay.”

I wasn’t sure what Gabriel had told his friends, or if he’d told them anything at all. So that might’ve explained the awkwardness. Regardless, I wasn’t sure what else needed to be said, so I let it go, hoping Max would, too.

“So…I think a late lunch is on you since I beat you at aerial yoga.”

Max smiled, though the playfulness that had been there a few minutes ago was gone. “You got it.”

We stopped at a sushi place. The waitress came over with a little girl who was probably about five and set waters on the table. Both of them had black, pocketed aprons wrapped around their waists, and when the woman slipped a small pad and pencil out, the little girl watched her and did the same thing.

“It’s bring-your-daughter-to-work day. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.” I leaned over to the little girl. “What’s your name?”

“Grace.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Grace. I like your apron.”

The girl reached into her pocket again. This time, she pulled out two small action figures. I thought they might be from a Disney movie. She held the one of a girl with long, brown, wavy hair out to me.