“Yoga.So, get up.”
Igroaned, instantly overtaken with lust. “Oh man, I love when you talk yogi tome.”
“Ha-ha.Come on, Molls. We got a tight schedule to keep today, and I’ve beendyin’ to do this shit with you.” I watched as he bent overand grabbed his jeans from off the floor. Holding them up, he eyed themquestionably and then looked to me. “Do you happen to have a pair of sweatpantsthat might fit me?”
Reluctantly,I rolled out of bed to dig through my dresser. I did have a pair of sweats thatwere a little too loose on me, and in my mind, I pictured him putting them ononly to find they fit him the same. A little too loose, maybe even a lot, and Ibraced myself for the internal berating as he pulled them on.
“Jesus,”he mumbled and adjusted himself in the crotch. “I feel like my junk’s beenshrink-wrapped.”
“They’retoo small?”
“Uh,just a little.” He laughed and pointed to his feet. The ankles of the pantswere nearly halfway up his calves.
Ichoked on a giggle. “Oh, that’s a good look.”
“I’msure it is,” he snickered sardonically and grabbed my extra yoga mat. “Let’sgo, darlin’.”
Wearingmy too-tight sweatpants and nothing else, he left my bedroom with the mattucked under his arm. Now, alone in my room, I got dressed in a pair ofleggings and a sports bra, and piled my hair on top of my head, all with thefeeling of happiness singing through my veins. I felt weightless as I floatedinto the living room to find him ready, sitting in easy pose. Legs crossed andfolded, hands against his knees with palms up. His eyes were closed, and hischest lifted and dropped with every even, steady breath.
Iunrolled my mat beside his, and although it was ridiculous, I felt knotted withnerves. I’d been doing yoga with Tess and Kylie for weeks now, and morerecently, Sebastian and Greyson too, and never once had I felt nervous. ButChad had always been so physically fit, and I had always found a careful,comfortable spot to curl up within his shadow. Even now, he was still a betterrunner than I was, if only marginally. But when it came to yoga,Iwasthe master in this room, and the thought of showing him up, of beingbetterthan him, made my palms sweat.
Heopened his eyes as I knelt to the floor. The blue illuminated in the sunlight,transcending into luminosity, and I faltered in rolling my mat out on thehardwood.
“Thisshould beinterestin’,” he stated in a raspy voice,sweeping his gaze over my body.
Isnorted, pushing the mat to roll over thefloor boards.“What do you mean?”
“Imean, you’regonnabedistractin’.”
Ilaughed and stood up, flattening the ends of the mat with my feet. “You’regonnakeep your eyes to yourself, old man.”
“Yeah,”he snickered. “We’ll see about that.”
Hestood up, and suddenly those sweatpants no longer looked ridiculous. The blackmaterial stretched over his thighs, emphasizing his groin, and hung low on hislean hips. The floating sensation in my arms and legs was replaced with a heftyweight that sat against my hips like a ball of fire. Burning and singeing andmaking it impossible for me to think clearly.
“So,are yougonnalead this thing?” he asked, pulling meaway from the need to shove him back into my room.
“Doyou want me to?”
Theside of his mouth lifted into a smile as he nodded. “Yeah. I’ve watched youwith Tess and Kylie,tellin’ them what to do. PretendI’m one of them.”
“Itold you I got Sebastian and Greysondoin’ yoga now,too, didn’t I?” I asked with a prideful smirk, and he slapped his thigh with abarked laugh.
“Oh,that’s right,” he snorted. “I can’t wait to see that.”
Athis request, I then replaced my persona of the new girlfriend with that of theserious yogi. I instructed him into mountain pose, encouraged proper breathing,then flowed gracefully into downward dog. It was a proud yoga moment, to bendover and not hear a shameless groan of desire escape his throat, and yet, therewas a distinctive feeling of disappointment that I hadn’t. I glanced over athim, with my head hanging between my biceps, and the sight of his tensedarms—with all those strained muscles and emphasized veins—was almost enough forme to break the pose.
“Okay,”I instructed, diverting my gaze. “Jump your feet toward the head of the mat andlet’s get ready for some extended side angle pose.”
Hewas good. Not as fluid as me, but I had also been at this for nearly ten years.Chad displayed structure and patience, every one of his movements precise andfocused. But could I really be surprised? He’d always been a perfectionist andnever attempted anything he couldn’t conquer, and I found myself thinking howit was so unfair that he’d been given a disease he couldn’t beat.
“Howdo you do with the abdominal targeted positions?” I asked, knowing too muchstrain on his stomach could trigger his issues.
“Igottatake it easy,” he explained, extending his leftleg to get into extended side angle on the other side. “But a little doesn’tseem to bother me too much.”
“Maybewe’ll just skip those,” I suggested, outstretching my arm and nearly touchingthe window. The stretch from my fingers to my shoulder, was so needed, I closedmy eyes and hummed with satisfaction.
“Don’tmake accommodations for me, Molls. I can decide what I can’t do.”
