Struck By You: Players

 

 

 

 

PLAYERS

Struck By You

I.M. Hicks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2014 I.M. Hicks

All rights reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

DEDICATION

 

 

To my boys.

 

CONTENTS

 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Acknowledgments

 

 
i

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter One

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Two

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Three

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Four

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Five

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Six

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Seven

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Eight

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Nine

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Ten

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Eleven

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Twelve

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Thirteen

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Fourteen

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Fifteen

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Sixteen

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Seventeen

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 

 
Chapter Eighteen

 

 
 

 

  

 

 

  

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

 

 

I would like to thank the music that inspired me.

 

 

 

 

 

Struck By You

 

Chapter 1

 

 

    
A
s soon as I walked in the studio and saw the look on Angie’s face, I knew that one, I was late, and two, Serena was angry and she was hiding in her office until after I finished my class so she could talk to me.
     “You have some new faces today,” said Angie as she handed me the microphone unit.
     “Great, Monday morning newbies,” I said sarcastically as I hooked the unit to the back of my yoga pants.
     “They’ve been patiently waiting,” said Angie. “Mrs. Carson already threatened to leave.”

     “I’m only five minutes late.” I sighed.
     “Late night at the club?” asked Angie.

     I smiled. “Didn’t work last night.”
     “Ah, what was his name?” she asked.
     “I’ll tell you later,” I said and made my way to the studio.

I walked quickly as I entered the large studio, didn’t bother looking at anyone as I could hear the whispering, the throat clearing, and the grunts. I started playing my usual soundtrack for Monday morning yoga and faced the crowd.

All the usual suspects were there this morning with the exception of some new faces as Angie had pointed out. A new group of twenty-something girls at the front, bound to be close friends and joined the class together for moral support. An older lady, who would likely quit after the first class. A rather large woman at the very back. And, nearest to the door, a very tall, fit and good-looking man stood quietly chatting with Gloria, one of my regular yogis.

“Sorry I’m late everyone,” I announced. “Hit some traffic this morning coming in.”

“With all due respect Riley, it’s well after 10:00 a.m.,” said Mrs. Carson grinning at me, being the bitch she usually was. Mrs. Carson was a rich and bored widower whose sole purpose in life was to ruin my morning class. There was no point in arguing with the woman; the more you argued, the more worked up she got and it just wasn’t worth my time or the time of my other clients.

     “Like I said, my sincere apologies,” I replied. Before she could continue, I turned up the volume and started the class.

My plan was to leave the studio quickly after class to avoid small talk – I wasn’t in the mood for it today since I barely got any sleep last night. I was about to go through the threshold of the door when…

“Oh Riley!” yelled the familiar voice.
Damn!

“Yes Mrs. Carson?” I said turning around and bumped into new, tall and handsome. The man was beautiful. We were close in height, which would make him roughly 6’4”, gorgeous skin, wavy light brown hair, a little long on the top but nonetheless sexy, beautiful lips, strong. It actually almost hurt bumping into him as he was very muscular, and he smelled phenomenal; it was a cologne I’d never come across before. His piercing bright blue eyes stared at mine. “I’m sorry,” I said trying to go around him, but we were standing at the doorway and he had wickedly wide shoulders.

After a few seconds of doorway dancing, he smiled widely with his matching perfect white teeth and moved to the side. “Ladies first,” he said in his masculine deep voice, which sent a jolt through my core. I stared at him as I walked through the door – he was eye candy alright, and not the healthy kind.

“Riley, I just wanted to ask you if I could bring my niece to tomorrow’s class. She’s staying with me for a few days,” said Mrs. Carson waking me up from a temporary trance, completely ruining the moment.

“Mrs. Carson, you need to discuss guests with Angie, that’s not my job,” I said.

“Well you see, she’s only fifteen so I wasn’t sure if you would accept that,” she replied.

I looked behind me to see if tall and dangerous was still there but he was gone and I couldn’t help my frustration with this woman.

“Again, you need to speak to Angie,” I said turning to leave.

“So is it okay?” she pressed.

OMFG!
“Yes, its fine,” I said sternly, trying to smile. Mrs. Carson smiled at me suspiciously and started talking to someone else.

I made my escape and ran to reception where Angie was, so I could grab my bag and sneak into one of the private massage rooms to sleep for a bit before my next class.

“So who was the flavor last night?” asked Angie. Angie was only nineteen, a high school graduate taking a couple of years off to join the workforce before starting university. She loved hearing about my dates and all the drama that unfolded at my other job.

“Oh, just this guy I met at the bar a few days ago. We had a date, then he came over,” I replied winking.

“Was he hot?” she asked. “What was his name?”

“He was beautiful. His name was Tony something,” I began – couldn’t remember his last name, not that it mattered.

“Are you going to see him again?” she asked innocently.

I laughed. “You are such a naïve hopeless romantic and no darling, it was just a booty call,” I replied. Angie laughed nervously and I realized there was somebody standing behind the counter.
Please, not Mrs. Carson
.

I heard a man’s throat clearing instead.

“Yes, may I help you?” said Angie as my back was still turned.

“Umm, yeah, uh, I would like to book a massage please,” said the familiar masculine deep voice.

“Certainly, Mr. Hayes,” said Angie as she looked at the schedule in her computer.

“That was probably one of the best yoga classes I’ve been to in a while,” he said
.
I turned around, hoping my face wasn’t red but judging by the way he was smiling at me, it was probably close to a fucking ripe tomato.

“I’m glad you liked it,” I replied, doing my damn hardest to look at this gorgeous man in the eye, damning my big mouth.

“I have an opening for Wednesday evening at 6:00 p.m., Mr. Hayes,” said Angie looking up from her screen.

“Sounds good,” he said, taking the appointment card from her. “It was nice meeting you, Riley,” he said smiling at me as he was turning to leave.

“Likewise,” I replied.

As he was leaving, I realized Gloria, the petite and voluptuous redhead and my regular yogi, was waiting for him at the door. She smiled and blushed as he approached her. He put his hand in the small of her back and they left the building together.

“Funny she never mentioned she had a guy,” I said casually.

Gloria was a regular, one of my clients for over a year and we often chatted after class. Gloria, like myself, was 25; she worked as a concierge for the Fairmont Royal York Hotel, always the afternoon shift, lived with her best friend in an apartment, and had no pets. Her ex-boyfriend did a number on her after being together for over two years: he proposed to her and three months later, she found him in bed with her male cousin who was visiting her at the time.

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