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“Welcome, welcome,” a petite brunette says from the center of the room. “Pick any pole. We’ll get started soon.”

I follow Hilde toward a pair of empty poles, glancing at a few other women as they stretch. Thankfully, they’re all dressed like me. Hell, a few are wearing even less than I am. And nobody seems remotely self-conscious.

It’s time I became confident in my own skin, too.

It’s time I loved my body the way it is.

“All right, ladies,” the instructor calls out after a few minutes. “Let’s get started.” She taps the screen of her cell phone, and a slow beat fills the room.

We start with a few basic stretches. Neck rolls. Shoulder circles. Arm sweeps. But after a quick warm-up, we’re instructed to wrap a hand around the pole and walk slowly around it.

At first, I feel awkward. Why am I walking in circles? Then the instructor explains that this is a vital first exercise to learn how to use our bodies around the pole — how to shift our weight, maintain posture, keep our shoulders relaxed, and let our movements flow rather than look stiff.

I spent years of my life dancing. Once had dreams of performing professionally. But nothing could have prepared me for just how difficult pole work could be.

It’s a different kind of workout than I expected. I figured I might have a little difficulty at first, since I no longer dance with the same intensity and focus as I once did.

But the longer the class goes, the more I realize I am much more out of shape than I thought. Or out of practice.

I can’t remember the last time I danced like this.

Another example of how much I’ve sacrificed for Wyatt.

“Okay, friends!” the instructor calls, clapping her hands. The music switches to something softer and more calming. “Time to cool down.”

I lower myself from the pole after yet another attempt at a fireman spin and collapse onto my mat.

My muscles feel like overcooked noodles, sweat dripping from my brow.

“For the record,” Hilde says breathlessly as she drops onto the mat beside me, “I think this was one of my worst ideas.”

I laugh as I stretch my legs in front of me, taking a moment to catch my breath. “I actually had a lot of fun.”

“Fine. Then you should keep coming.”

“You know what?” I fold my body forward, stretching my hamstrings and lower back, and steal a glance at her. “I think I just might. Could be good practice. You know. For stamina.”

Hilde flashes me a grin. “That’s my girl.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

JOSHUA

I take a sip of my beer as I sit on my back porch, watching for any movement from the house next door.

I know we’re both adults. We shouldn’t have to sneak around like teenagers.

But Wynter’s situation is…delicate. She still has to file for divorce from Wyatt. And because of who he is, there are public relations issues to consider. So I’m more than happy to keep whatever this is quiet. Take it one day at a time. One moment at a time.

One incredible orgasm at a time.

I smile at the thought, the memory of all the orgasms I gave Wynter last night flooding back. Not that it ever left.

Even after spending most of today clearing out my mom’s old things and turning the house into something that feels more like mine, I never stopped thinking about Wynter. How could I? Everything I did today was about moving forward.

And a reckless part of me would love nothing more than to move forward with her, despite her insistence this morning that she can’t make me any promises.

Finally, movement on her parents’ back deck catches my eye, and I look up, my pulse increasing when Wynter steps outside.