Rachel fumbled with her keys for a second before unlocking the front door. She let herself in and closed it quietly behind her.

“Have a good day at work?”

Rachel squealed, hand to her heart. “I thought you were asleep,” she said to Sarah, her roommate, who stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

Sarah grinned and shrugged. “I have the night off. Want to watch a movie?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass. I need a shower and I want to go to bed,” Rachel replied as she hung up her coat and stepped into the family room. Rachel plopped down on the couch next to Buster, Sarah’s cat.

Sarah followed, asking, “What happened? Boss bitch you out?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” she said. As her tears welled, Rachel averted her eyes to hide them from Sarah.

The tactic didn’t work. “Don’t be like that,” Sarah replied, joining her on the couch opposite Buster before pulling Rachel into a hug. “Tell me what happened.”

Sniffing, Rachel said, “I met this parkour instructor after almost being mugged.”

“What?!” Sarah exclaimed as she pulled back.

Rachel gave a watery chortle as her friend searched her face for God only knew what. Unwilling to dwell on the attack, Rachel chose to elaborate on her meeting with Adam. “He’s totally hot, Sarah. You’d love him. Accent. Scars. Warm, calloused hands. A deep voice that makes your ovaries explode.”

“Hon,” Sarah admonished, clearly unwilling to be swayed by the real story.

Rachel sighed. “Fine. I was on my way home and a guy jumped me. I tossed him into a brick wall and ran to the first storefront I found. That’s where I met Adam, the incredibly hot instructor—at least I think he’s an instructor. He saved me from the big bad man and patched me up.”

“Where?”

“Here,” Rachel said, assuming Sarah meant the cut and not the Metro station. While Sarah inspected the bandage, Rachel continued, “It was minor, but it bled a lot.” She shrugged. “He gave me water. We talked about the incident and then I went home.”

“You call the police?”

“No.”

“Honey!”

“I didn’t see the point. By the time I got to the studio and calmed down, over half an hour had passed. Adam pointed out that I hadn’t seen the guy’s face so what could the cops really do? I agreed. End of story.”

“Hon…” Sarah sighed and shook her head. “You should have called…”

Rachel shrugged and toyed with her slacks. “Maybe. Probably. But I didn’t.”

The two of them were silent for several beats, but finally, Sarah broke the silence by changing the subject, “Okay. Tell me about this Adam guy, then.”

“Like what? I already told you all the pertinent things.”

“What did he look like? You mentioned scars. How old is he?” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows. “Does he have nice... muscles? A brother?”

“Sarah!”

“What,” Sarah said, false innocence dripping from her tone.

Rachel tried to force a frown to her lips, but they twitched upward at the last moment. “Athletic. Well built. Like I said, I think he’s an instructor there.”

“Where again?”

Rachel fished the pamphlet out of her pants pocket and handed it to Sarah.

“Gateway Parkour. Huh. Never heard of it.” Sarah handed the brochure back to Rachel. “You’ve yet to tell me why you think he’s hot. What does he look like?”

“He’s probably a few years older than me. Early thirties maybe?” Rachel paused and sighed, “He had the most incredible dark brown eyes. And he’s got a scar splitting his left eyebrow and dipping into his eyelid a bit. No idea what gave him that scar, but he’s lucky he didn’t lose an eye.”

“I love scars. Yum!”

Rachel laughed. “I know you do, that’s why I mentioned it. I think he might be Greek or maybe Middle Eastern? Hard to say. He had a faint accent, but I couldn’t place it.”

“Double yum.” Sarah sighed.

Sarah pointed to the pamphlet in Rachel’s hand. “Are you going to sign up?” she asked.

“Maybe, but—” Rachel groaned in frustration and shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“He’s weird. Like closet conspiracy theorist or zombie apocalypse prepper, weird.”

“What?! What did he say? How?!”

Rachel leaned forward as if she had to keep from being overheard. “When he went to get the first-aid kit, I followed. He was on a call to someone named Dar who was reading him the riot act about helping me. Then he said he wanted to be ‘reinstated’ like a military man because the ‘org’ would find him soon.” Rachel sat back. “It was weird. And I can’t help shake the feeling he’s bad news even if he is hotter than the sun.”

“Okay,” Sarah said then shook her head. “Hon, I hate to tell you this, but none of that sounds creepy. He probably is military. And you know all those guys have code names for their teams and operations. Brotherly love, et Cetera. He’s probably on an extended leave and can’t wait to get back to where ever he left. I say, if you want to take a class, you should. And I also say, if you can get into his pants, you ought to. You haven’t had a decent lay in months.”

“Sarah!”

A grin split Sarah’s face and she snickered.

“I don’t want to have a one-night stand,” Rachel argued. “Besides, with a smile like his, I know women must be throwing themselves at him. How could I compete? And even if I could make my way into his bed... I don’t want to become another notch on his bedpost. You know what happened the last time.”

“Yeah, broken heart, I remember.”

“I cried for, like, two weeks. But it was my own dumb fault I let myself be fooled into it.” Rachel made a face. “He was cute, though, athletic and assertive. You know... my usual type.”

“Yeah, I know. He was also an arrogant asshole.”

“Don’t remind me.”

She fell silent and Sarah looked at her for a few moments. “Admit it, hon, you’re already imagining what you’d do with that parkour instructor if you got him naked. Bed optional.”

Rachel blushed as Sarah stage-whispered, “You just put your lips together and you come real close…”

Thinking about putting her lips anywhere near where Flo Rida suggested was a bad idea. Rachel blurted, “I wonder if there’s a website.”

Sarah burst into laughter. “You just hope there’s a picture of the instructor on the ‘About Us’ page!”

“Well, maybe... So, what?” she asked, defensive.

“You’re blushing,” Sarah joked and whistled another bar of the song.

“Sarah!” Rachel exclaimed.

“Ugh, fine! Anyway,” Sarah said, appearing to leave the subject of Rachel’s love life alone for the time being. “If you don’t want a movie, then I’m going to the Loop. I’ll see you later.” She stood and strode toward the front door. “Take the classes. You’ll regret it if you don’t. And who knows, maybe this instructor is single and into you, too. Oh... and happens to not be an asshole or a prepper.”

Rachel threw a couch accent pillow at her. “Go, already!”

Sarah laughed all the way out the door.

After it banged close, Rachel grabbed her laptop from the floor, popped it open, and did a quick Google search for the studio. She found only one listing. Clicking the link brought up a simple, amateurish-looking page. Rachel sighed, disappointed to find the website consisted of only one home page, which had some stock photos of a typical gymnastics studio, and the class schedule printed on it. There wasn’t even an address for the building, just a phone number for prospective students to call.

“Well, Buster,” Rachel asked the cat, “should I take a parkour class?” Buster purred in agreement.