“Bikram Yoga,” Cat reads aloud. “That’s the yoga you do in thirty degrees?” “Forty, actually,” Suze corrects. “It’s amazing! The difference it can make, honestly, girls, this is it for me.”
She has been preaching about Bikram Yoga for months now. And a few other people I know have been raving about it.” Her brows lift. “Don’t you want to look your best with Danny Walker roaming around the office?”
When was this written???? Is the author a bikram lover?
“It wasn’t planned, obviously, but out of mistakes come good things. We’re excited. It’ll be the first Walker baby in the family.” She jolts backwards with such force I step towards her and grab her wrist. “Are you OK?” “She’s pregnant?” she chokes out. “Yes. I thought you knew that.”
I can’t look up again. If I look into his eyes and see horror, pity or embarrassment, I’ll never be able to deliver this song. “I, uh,” my voice breaks, and I clear my throat. “I wrote this song to explain how I feel about a recent romance.”
This is horrifically embarrassing
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