Chapter 13
“You should feel special,” I say, rolling to my side, resting my head on my hand. “You’re the first person to get a yoga class in my new studio.”
Matt lies on his mat next to me, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. “Not only did I get the first lesson, but I also got a private lesson.” He reaches his hand out to mine, lacing his fingers through. Flirty hand holding started on date two, but he’s continued the trend throughout dates three and four. I have no complaints.
“I’m going to tell all my friends they need to try hot yoga,” he says.
“This wasn’t hot yoga.”
“It was for me.”
I laugh, hitting him playfully in the stomach. He grabs my hand again, letting them both rest on his chest. I can feel his breathing move up and down against my fingers.
“You’re a great teacher,” he says.
“Thanks. I’ve loved yoga since I was a teenager.”
Matt shifts his head so his eyes meet mine. “What do you love about it?”
“The way it calms me and makes me feel at peace.”
I still can remember the first time I took a class. I was seventeen, and nothing in my life made sense. I hadn’t seen or heard from my mom in nine months. I was holding onto so much anger and hurt that everything inside me felt tight. Then, I discovered yoga, and something about it changed me.
He smiles back at me. “I could feel your passion and authenticity the whole time. Your love for it really comes through.” He squeezes my hand. “You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”
I am.
I’ve held down three jobs at a time ever since I was eighteen, saving for this moment. I made every penny myself, earned every certification, and developed my craft. This is my victory alone, but as I stare back at Matt, I’m so grateful I have someone here who recognizes all it took and is proud of me. I’ve never had anyone in my life who has been proud of me. I know Jana and Chelsea are excited, but this feels different.
Matt’s a successful, intelligent, driven man. The fact that he respects all of my hard work and is happy for me makes me feel…special, loved.
Alarms go off in my head.
Matt and I are happening too fast. How can I really feel special and loved when this is only our fourth date? How can I even trust that he’s showing me the real him? He’s too perfect. This is bound to blow up in my face any day now.
I go to stand, to put some distance between us, when he pulls me back down.
“Don’t run. Everything’s okay.”
How did he know I was running?
How did he know I was questioning everything?
His lips curl upward. “What about all of those couple poses I see on TikTok?”
“What about them?”
“Aren’t you going to teach me any of those?”
“Those poses are more advanced than you are.”
“What? I can totally do them.”
I squint my eyes. I’ve always wanted to try some of those ridiculous poses trending all over the internet. “Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.”
I give him a few instructions, starting with something easy where we balance each other”s weight. After a few of those, I move on to something more challenging, The Flying Superman, where my torso balances on Matt’s two feet while I hold a Superman pose.
It takes a minute to get in position. I keep falling because we’re laughing, but finally, it sticks.
“We got it,” he grunts, but then suddenly, I’m flying forward.
Matt’s legs split apart, and he catches my shoulders with his arms, lowering me to his chest. I’m lying on top of him, feeling his every muscle. His arms wrap around my back and waist, and his gaze drops momentarily to my lips, then back up.
If he goes for it, it would be our first kiss.
“This is what they mean by hot yoga.” His voice is deep and rough.
I shake my head with a smile. “Still not hot yoga.”
“It is to me.”
Slowly, he rolls us over so I’m on the bottom. Our legs are twisted together, and our breaths are heavy. He brushes my hair back, scanning my face. I watch his lips inch closer to mine, knowing what’s coming next—wanting what’s coming next. I like that he’s taking his time, drawing out the suspense so much that my heart beats faster and faster with each passing second. I’m like one of those hot potato timers where the beeping gets more intense the longer it goes. I raise my chin and arch my back, trying to meet him halfway, trying to force the connection sooner. The corner of his mouth lifts into a small smile. He’s got me right where he wants me. His lips brush softly against mine, and then I close my eyes. I needed to see it to believe it. This moment is almost too good to be true.
My grip tightens around his back as he gently kisses me. His fingers glide across my cheek and into the sides of my sweaty hair, flaming my neck with heat. Everything about his touch is tender. This isn’t some passionate make-out session full of lust. This is sweet and simple, a pouring of affection in each skim and graze.
And right then, in my new yoga studio, in the middle of our first kiss, I know Matt Johnson is a keeper.