A few nods, some shy smiles—good. The ice was cracking. I rolled my shoulders back, keeping things loose. “We’re starting simple. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I wanna hear those exhales. Let the world go for a minute—it’s just us in here.”
The room filled with the sound of deliberate breathing, and I led them through gentle stretches, moving slow, keeping the energy warm and open. “Don’t overthink it. Just follow me. This is your time. No phones, no work, no kids—just you.”
A woman in the front row, her salt-and-pepper curls pulled into a ponytail, let out a relieved sigh. “Amen to that.”
I chuckled, tossing her a wink. “That’s what I like to hear. Alright, let’s see what those legs are talking about. Feet shoulder-width apart. We’re going into some squats. And down… hold it… bring it back up. Nice and slow. Let them thighs talk to you.”
A ripple of laughter moved through the group, and I could see them easing up, finding their rhythm. “If your thighs are burning, you’re doing it right. And if they’re not, you’re lying to yourself, and we don’t do that here.”
After the session, I handed out cold towels and chatted with a few of the guests. Martha, the woman with a salt and pepper ponytail, pulled me aside, her voice low and grateful as she shared how this retreat was her attempt at finding herself again after a messy divorce. Another, Diane, asked about tips for staying active with arthritis. These were real people with real stories, and it anchored me.
This was what I loved—the work, the people. The honesty of it all. And for a while, I let myself forget about my father, about the business, and just be the man I’d always wanted to be. Just Lennox.
I felt Selena’s presence before I saw her. She stood at the doorway, her arms crossed, a soft smile on her lips. When the last of the guests filtered out, she approached me.
“You’re a natural,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. “They loved you.”
“Thanks.” I wiped the sweat from my brow, meeting her gaze. “They make it easy. Good energy.”
She nodded, her smile widening. “Tasha wasn’t so sure someone could come into our sanctuary and fit right in. But you do, and do it so well.”
Her words lingered, layered with something more than professional praise. Her eyes held an openness, but not the kind that pulled me in. There was no spark, no pull.Not like with Naima.
I cleared my throat, shifting the conversation. “You’ve built something special here. It’s clear the guests feel safe, like they can really let go.”
“That’s the goal.” She stepped closer, close enough that I could catch a hint of vanilla and sandalwood on her skin. “We’ve all put a lot of ourselves into this place.”
“It shows.”
For a beat, neither of us spoke. I knew the signs—the lingering look, the slight tilt of her body toward mine—but I wasn’t here for this. And not with her. Selena was all elegance and wisdom, but it wasn’t what I wanted. NotwhoI wanted.
I excused myself, pulling away gently, and made my way to my quarters. As I passed the yoga room, movement caught my eye. I paused, leaning against the doorway.
Naima knelt beside a guest, an older woman struggling with a hip opener pose. Her voice was soft, and patient, guiding the woman through the stretch. She demonstrated for the woman, her own body moving with fluidity and grace, her curves accentuated by the fitted yoga pants and tank top she wore.
My body reacted before my mind could catch up. The stretch of her limbs, the roll of her hips—it sparked something raw inside me. I bit back the heat that flared, forcing my breathing to steady. This wasn’t why I was here. I couldn’t afford to get distracted. But damn if she didn’t make it hard.
When the session ended, she looked up, catching my gaze through the glass. Her lips curled into a small, knowing smile, and I felt the pull, sharp and undeniable.
I forced myself to my room, stripping off my clothes and stepping into a cold shower. The water pounded against my skin, but it did little to cool the simmering need. I closed my eyes, images of Naima twisting through my mind, the curve of her smile, the soft sway of her hips.
Later,at dinner, the four of us sat around a small table in the staff dining room. The main dining hall buzzed with guests, their laughter and conversation a backdrop to our own quiet meal. Plates of roasted chicken with lemon and thyme, creamy mashed potatoes, and sautéed green beans filled the table. A fresh garden salad sat in the center, its bright colors a contrast to the warm, comforting dishes.
“What really brings you here, Lennox?” Tasha asked, her tone light but her eyes focused. “You said you were between gigs, which is how you had the time to humor us with this experiment, but a guy like you… I bet there’s a story.”
I took a bite of my food, the savory blend of herbs and butter coating my tongue, chewing slowly to buy time. “Just needed a change of pace. The city was getting... crowded.”
Selena raised an eyebrow. “What city?”
“Pittsburgh,” I said, keeping my voice even—hoping the connection between my last name and the investmentopportunity they were waiting on wasn’t made. “Born and raised.”
Naima’s fork paused mid-air, her lips parting slightly. “North or South?”
“South,” I replied, my gaze locking with hers. “But it’s a small city, you know—you?”
“North Hills,” she said, her tongue brushing over her bottom lip, the soft smile that followed almost sinful. “Small world.”
“Very small world,” I told her while looking into those dark eyes.
