4. Chapter Four
4
Wren
I’ve been here one damn day and I’m already going to be fired, then how will I help my parents? I scour my closet for a yoga top, slip into the exercising shorts I bought before coming here, and throw my wild mane into a ponytail.
Everything is always better with a little yoga.
My yoga mat is sitting propped up in a corner of the room, so I grab it and hesitantly grab the second one in hopes that I can convince Ryker to join me.
I can’t believe he tried kissing me – and that I hesitated for the briefest moment before pushing him back.
Elias would have a fit if he heard what happened in the kitchen this morning, then would likely encourage me to get involved with someone completely off-limits. My brother has a thing for going against the rules, especially as a little kid – he’s the reason we would always get in trouble, because he insisted that we ride down the stairs on a skateboard and our parents said it was okay.
It was never okay.
When I get into the large back lawn, I stare out at the glistening water moving around the in-ground pool, then turn into a wide opening beneath an oak tree. Thank goodness there’s shade, nothing is worse than trying to get into my yoga poses with sun shining in my damn eyes. I drop my yoga mat onto the ground, then shake my backpack from my shoulder and lean it against the tree behind me.
A grunt has me snapping my attention to my left and I watch as Ryker lifts the weights from the ground, his face red with sweat dripping down it profusely. Before I can have a reaction that would get me in trouble, I look away from him – who needs two gyms anyway?
At least if he only had the one inside I wouldn’t have to worry about the temptation to look over at him. Thankfully, my head is screaming those boundaries at me and I manage to keep my eyes focused ahead rather than on him.
Ryker drops the weights, leans over to grab a clean towel for the sweat, and as if feeling my eyes on him he glares at me from a distance. He scowls and shakes his head before grabbing his bottle of water. I’m about to let him walk into his house, when I remember what I’m really here for – I’ve got to help him get over that anger.
Yoga is the perfect thing to get started.
“Ryker!” He doesn’t bother turning around and he’s about to open the back door just as I yell. “I can be gone faster if you answer me, you know?”
I watch his shoulders tense and fingers grip the doorknob a little tighter, then he takes a deep breath before turning around and storming over to me. “What do you have in mind for today?”
“Yoga.”
In silence, I grab the extra yoga mat and roll it out on the lawn next to mine with a bright smile. When I lean up and look at Ryker, he’s staring at the mat as if it’s a three-headed monster from a fantasy movie.
“Yeah,” he says, then shakes his head. “I’m not doing that, have fun.”
“Can you just give me a chance?” I ask softly. “I know this isn’t your thing and I understand that, but yoga has helped a lot of my previous clients, especially ones who’ve had trouble managing their emotions, and I think it would be extremely helpful for you to at least try.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then open them to find that Ryker’s gaze has softened slightly.
He clenches his fists at his side, jaw following right along with them, and he nods curtly. “Let’s get it over with then.”
“Does this mean you’ll start cooperating?”
He narrows his eyes on me. “I wouldn’t go that far, you can either take what you get, or I can go inside like I planned.”
“Should we, um, talk about what happened?” I hate bringing up the kiss we almost shared, but I need to make sure we’re on the same page about it. It was a mistake that I can’t afford to let happen again, for the sake of my parents and my career.
“It won’t happen again, trust me.”
“Great,” I say quickly. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
He looks at me patiently and arches a brow. “So, we gonna get started or what, teach?”
“Right, sorry.” I shake my head and silently curse at myself for being off my game.
This doesn’t happen to me, ever. When I’m on the job, that’s my sole focus, but with this beautiful man sitting in front of me with his bare chest glistening from sweat, all I can seem to focus on is how good his muscles would feel beneath my fingertips.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, the voice in my head chants.
I listen to the voice and quickly turn my bluetooth speaker on, then find my yoga playlist.
The soft sounds of waves and nature echo through the air, then Ryker throws his head back with a loud groan. “This is what you use for yoga?”
I place my hand on my hips and frown at him. “It calms you.”
“The only thing it’s going to do is make me want to hurl myself off the Grand Canyon,” he mutters
“Are those thoughts you have often?” I ask.
“Not everything I say has a hidden meaning behind it.”
I take him at his word – he doesn’t seem like the type who would have those kinds of thoughts – but I’ll still keep a close eye on him.
He’s not the first one to think my yoga routine is crazy and bullshit, but no one ever bothers trying it out before knocking on it. Yoga was what got me through the stress of college, especially after finding out my parents took out a second mortgage to pay for it, and I’ve lived by it ever since.
This is my morning routine – I eat a healthy breakfast, get into my yoga clothes, then spend a couple hours each morning and night doing yoga poses. I’ve got favorites that I prefer to do, but today I’m going to start with the basics for Ryker since he’s not accustomed to it.
“I want to start with the breath of fire,” I say softly. “It’s simple. You’re going to take deep breaths. As you inhale, I want you to allow the anger inside to rise up and release it as you exhale.”
Even though I’m not angry, I cross my legs together and let my arms fall to my sides as I show him how to do it. When I glance at him, he’s looking at me as if I’ve spoken another language, but moves so that he’s sitting just as I am and copies my deep breaths for a few minutes.
I wait until I notice his posture relaxing before I clear my throat and say, “Now, I want you to open your hands and hold them up in the sky like this.”
He turns to look at me, nothing but confusion on his face, and it takes everything in me not to chuckle. “Uh, okay.”
“You’re going to give voice to that anger,” I say. “Scream at the top of your lungs, release any lingering emotion.”
His eyes bulge and he shakes his head. “No way.”
I roll my eyes and let a scream rip through the air, then smile brightly at him. “Your turn, Rockstar.”
Although he still looks hesitant about it, he takes another few deep breaths like we’ve been doing for the last few minutes, then lifts his arms slowly into the air above his head. I flinch at the first sound of his scream, but I can tell that the anger hiding deep beneath the surface is being let out and I relax into my sitting position.
His chest is rising and falling as he sucks in sharp breaths, then he turns to me. “Like that?”
I hold a finger up. “Now, we sit in silence for a few minutes.”
It’s not an awkward silence and that’s a good thing because this next step is all about him noticing how he feels now that he let the anger out of him.
When the minutes are up, I clear my throat. “How do you feel?”
“Uh, fine?”
I smile at him. “Do you feel lighter? How did you feel allowing yourself to scream?”
He looks forward, toward the space where he let his scream go, and he hums in response to my question. “Yeah, you know, it did feel good to scream on my own. There’s still anger simmering, but it’s not nearly as heavy as before.”
“That’s normal. You won’t see a response right away, but doing this when the emotions begin to be too much could give you a clearer mind. You’d be surprised how much yoga could help with frustration.”
I do a quick stretch with my legs, then stand and find his eyes rolling over my curves with heat swimming in the irises.
“Next time, we’ll focus on an exercise that isn’t so loud,” I say, doing my best to ignore the way he’s looking at me.
“I never said there would be a next time” he grinds out, then rises from his place on the ground and walks over to me. “You could get yourself in a lot of trouble wearing something like that out here, who knows who could be watching from the fences.”
Even though it’s a secluded area, I’m sure he gets plenty of crazies who trek through the trees ahead just to try climbing over the fence and make it to his front door. I shiver at the prospect of someone watching me from far away and slowly cover myself with a frown.
Ryker chuckles in front of me and brings a hand up, brushing a strand of sweat soaked hair from my face, and leans forward until his mouth is right next to my ear. “Don’t worry, teach, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
Just like that, my pussy drips with arousal and I have to rub my thighs together. I expect him to back up, but the heat radiating from his body still seeps into mine like heat from a flame and I’m drowning in the sensations from it. My head is growing fuzzy and I find myself inching closer to him, even though I shouldn’t be.
I can’t concentrate on anything, not even if I’m breathing the right way, and I run through all the possible questions I could ask him now that he’s feeling lighter.
Before I can think better of it, I voice the first one I come across, “Are you a family guy?”
As soon as he straightens and glares at me, I know I’ve asked the wrong question so soon into our work relationship. At least he’s not as close to me anymore, that could’ve gotten bad.
I’m expecting him to start snapping at me, but he takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Uh, no. I haven’t been close to my family since I joined the band.”
“Why’s that?”
This is interesting – and possibly a breakthrough.
“My parents wanted different things for me, that’s all. They don’t approve of the life I’m living, so they don’t come around.”
That has to suck, and likely where most of his anger resides.
How would I feel if my parents disowned me because I didn’t get into the career they had planned for me? I’d be angry and lack self-esteem – I’d think I wasn’t good enough for the career I chose.
“What did they—”
“Look,” he snaps, his anger coming right back. “Yoga was enough, I don’t need you diving into my life and forming an opinion.”
“Are you worried I’d cast judgment?” I ask. “That’s not who I am. It’s part of my job to understand everything going on in your life, that way I can make the proper plan for you to cope with the emotions.”
“I don’t need to cope with my emotions. I’m fine!”
I’m used to clients yelling when I start approaching the root of their problems, so I don’t react when he raises his voice and, as soon as I open my mouth to say something else, he throws a hand up to silence me.
“I can’t do this right now,” he mutters, then heads through the back door and slams it shut so hard that it echoes through the air around me.
This is a start, but we still have a lot of work to do and it’s seeming like we might need more than a few weeks to do it.