Kayla
Sandalwood oil burners can’t mask the new paint smell in the yoga studio. I’ve had the windows open all day, and now the room is cooler than is optimal for a class; it doesn’t smell relaxing like I want it to, and it’s almost two o’clock and there’s no one here.
This is a disaster, the inner voice whispers, and instead of listening to it, I take a deep breath and center myself. I can’t control the paint smell, the air temperature, or whether anyone comes to the class, so why worry about it?
Because I want this class to be a success.
My inner voice nudges me, and I tell it to pipe down. I focus on my breathing, something I can control, and release the negative thoughts.
When Joel offered me the job, he told me it wouldn’t be the kind of clientele I was used to, and they might resist coming to class. The yoga studio in Charlotte, where I taught before, was always booked out. Mostly women and some men, but they all wanted to be there.
This is different. Savanna pushed for yoga to be incorporated into recovery plans for veterans, and it’s not just about the stretching.
The deep breathing and meditation that come with it can help to steady fractured minds.
When I saw the job, I jumped at the chance to help veterans.
The pay is less than the city studio, and I’ve had to relocate, but I want to give something back to those who served.
I want my life to be meaningful, and this is something I can do to help others.
But as I stare at the empty yoga studio, I wonder if I’ve made a huge mistake.
It’s just first-day nerves, I tell myself. They will come.
The wind rustles the trees outside, and I close my eyes and count as I breathe, trying to ground myself.
My thoughts stray to this morning and the encounter with Jace.
I’ve never met a more arrogant man. First, he bowls into me, and then he has the audacity to say it was me pushing him up against the wall.
His arm around my waist, the scent of the lavender analgesic cream that Savanna uses, the tickle of his breath on my cheek.
My breathing gets shallow and my body heats up, and I lose control of my hard-won equilibrium. There’s no denying my attraction to the cocky veteran, and it’s a dangerous kind of attraction, the kind that threatens everything I’ve worked so hard to control.
“Nice to see you again, sweetheart.”
My eyes fly open, and Jace stands before me as if I conjured him with my thoughts.
He’s smirking down at me, and it makes his blue eyes sparkle.
His hair is disheveled, and there’s stubble on his jaw, wild and uneven like he hasn’t looked in a mirror for days.
I guess you don’t need to check a mirror when you look so damn handsome naturally.
“Choose any mat you like.” I ignore his smirk and my racing heart.
He takes a mat in the front row, and if he’s the only person in the class, this is going to be hard to get through.
Luckily, a woman arrives and two more men, and by the time two o’clock rolls around, I have a class of five people.
I’m about to start when Savanna sneaks in with a reassuring smile. I’ve only been in town for a week, and she’s made me feel welcome. I appreciate her support today.
I start the class with simple movements and leave out the breathwork for now. All the while, I’m aware of Jace in my periphery. His gaze is on me as I demonstrate the moves, and it makes me hot and flustered.
I move onto standing poses, and when they’re in the warrior, I move around the class, adjusting each person into the correct pose. When I get to Jace, his hips are facing to the side instead of to the front, which means he’s not getting the full benefit of the stretch.
“Do you mind if I touch you?”
He gives me a devastating smile. “You can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”
My cheeks flush as I put my hands on his hips.
With everyone else in the class, it’s been transactional, adjusting their limbs to get them into a fuller stretch, but with Jace, as soon as I put my hands on him, my fingers tingle, my heart thumps quicker, and my breathing shifts.
I pull my hands away as if I’ve been burned.
My hands are warm where I touched him, and I stretch my fingers, resisting the urge to reach for him. This is more than attraction. This is wanting. And wanting too much is dangerous; I know what it could cost me.
Jace is peering down at me, and the smirk is gone from his face.
“Keep your hips to the front,” I mumble before heading back to the front of the class.
I don’t touch him again for the rest of the session. Whatever effect he has on me, I can’t have it disrupting my calm.
I try to focus on the other participants, but my gaze always comes back to Jace. His taut body as he moves through the poses, the way his muscles ripple when he pushes into downward-facing dog, and the smooth movement of his body as it slides through to cobra.
He’s lithe and supple and moves with unexpected grace, which makes me think, despite his posturing, that he’s done yoga or something a lot like it before.
By the time the session ends, my breathing is out of control, I’m flushed with heat, and there’s a dull ache in the pit of my belly. I’m impatient for the room to empty so I can sit quietly and regain control.
The class finishes, and Jace leaves with the rest of them. Only Savanna stays behind to help roll up the mats.
“Great first class.” She rolls up one of the spare mats at the back of the class and moves to the next one. I move around the room, collecting them from the floor.
“Thanks for coming. I knew it would be hard teaching yoga to veterans. But I think it went well.”
“I’m surprised Jace came. He told me this morning he wouldn’t do it.”
I drop the mats I’m holding into the wicker basket by the door. “You must have changed his mind.”
She gives me a knowing smile. “I don’t think he came for me. Jace spent the entire class checking out your ass.”
“My ass?” I’m bigger than what most people imagine a yoga instructor should look like. “I don’t think so.”
Heat flushes my cheeks, and I hate that the thought of him checking out my ass is pleasing to me.
She chuckles. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad he’s here. Jace needs this the most.”
“How so?”
She plunks another mat into the basket. “He hasn’t accepted the fact that he’s not going back to the military yet.”
Her words are like cold water on my heated body.
“Is there no chance of full rehabilitation?”
“No. The doctor has told him it’s unlikely he’ll ever serve again, but he refuses to accept it.”
I suddenly see Jace in a new light. The banter and cockiness hide something deeper. A refusal to accept that everything you know, everything you’ve worked for, everything you wanted is no longer within your reach. I know because I’ve been there.
“He was an Army Ranger, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah, an elite warrior, kicking his heels here. No wonder he’s uptight.”
He’s still trying to control everything, and if there’s one thing I learned how to do, it’s giving up control and accept what life deals you. Jace needs a crash course in letting go.
“There’s a meditation center in the mountains. They’ve got a retreat coming up. It could really help him.”
Savanna snorts. “Good luck getting Jace to agree to something like that. It was hard enough getting him here.”
We walk together back to the main center where Savanna’s treatment rooms are.
But my mind’s on Jace. He’s cocky and arrogant, and also funny and muscular, and makes my body hum in a way I’ve never felt before, in a way I can’t control.
My instinct is to avoid him, but that’s not what I came to Jake’s Retreat for.
I came to help those who need it, and Jace needs it.
I know what it’s like to be so far in denial you can’t see the way out. If there’s a way to help Jace, then I will.