Page 47 of The Hate Date
“No, that’s okay,” I find myself blurting out. If Joar touches me, I know where it’s going to lead. I’m willing to play this “hate date” out tonight, but that’s it. Finito. If I let him have any physical contact…
I’ll lose all resolve.
To his credit, Joar doesn’t bulldoze the situation and insist. He hangs back as Regan leaps up on the pole in an inversion move and slides down the pole, stopping just shy of the floor. “Are you sure you don’t want to try this?”
I do. So badly.
“I’m happy to spot you, sweetness. It doesn’t have to mean anything. This is all about you.” Joar takes a step toward me. All rippled muscles and heat.
“Let’s try it,” Regan encourages, guiding me to the pole.
She helps me get into the inversion straddle position and shows Joar how to hold on to my waist to support me as I get my bearings. Using half my own strength and half of Joar’s support, I’m able to walk my hands up the pole a few feet up. I’m not remotely as graceful as Regan, but the sense of accomplishment is addictive.
Joar’s support of me is effortless, like I weigh nothing, which is definitely not true. I’m a lot heavier than most actresses, at the low end of what some would call plus-size. Our faces are close together, concentrating on our task at hand.
“Joar, now take most of Clover’s weight and let her slide down a few inches so she can get the feel of it.” Regan is close to the two of us, ready to step in as necessary.
I say nothing but, for the first time tonight, I look directly into Joar’s violet eyes. What I see in those depths takes my breath away.
Utter. Total. Adoration.
What is happening?
“Yes. Good. Eye contact is key to trust.” Regan claps. “On the count of three, Joar, you keep hold of Clover. Clover, you trust your partner and slide down a few inches then stop yourself.”
Our eyes lock. I realize how utterly sensual—no sexual—this exercise is. Despite my misgivings, I feel connected to him on every level. I hear Regan count us down and I let myself go. Joar is right there with me, and I’m able to slide down the pole and catch myself with his assistance.
Exhilarating.
When the lesson is over, I see Joar slip Regan a few hundred bucks. We quietly make our way to the dressing rooms. I’m sweating like a fiend, but haven’t felt this happy in, well, forever.
“You thanked me earlier, but I should be thanking you.” Joar touches my elbow.
I tilt my head in surprise. “For what?”
“For expanding my horizons. This was the most fun I’ve had since that night in the elevator.” He’s serious.
Sincere.
I shrug. “You’re welcome.”
“Clover…” He’s about to say something but stops himself.
Instead of asking what he was about to say, I slide open the curtain to my dressing room. “I’m going to get changed.”
“Yeah…me too.” He promptly ducks inside his own room.
A few minutes later we emerge fully dressed. A lot of the adrenaline from the pole lesson has dissipated, replaced with a bit of anxiety. I’m shy and unsure of what comes next. What I want to come next. My heart is beating erratically from the nerves.
Joar watches me tentatively. “Would you be up for a late dinner? I’m starving.”
“Okay.” I hear myself say. “Nothing fancy though.”
He nods. Places his hand at the small of my back as we exit the building. Victor is waiting for us. Joar stops to speak to him while I slide into the back seat of his Bentley. He gets in beside me. “We’re going to the perfect place.”
A few minutes later, Victor pulls into the drive-thru at In-N-Out Burger. “What do you both want?”
I can’t help but giggle. This is so unexpected. He’s knocked two hate dates off the list in one night. “Double double animal style, no onions. Fries. Chocolate shake.”