Chapter 19
To Ellie’s surprise, barely three days passed before Estella asked to meet with her again.
Something about this jarred her, her thoughts spiralling and unsettling.
They’d talked for hours, that day on the rooftop, about Estella’s marriage to a mobster, but Estella kept derailing her with personal questions and answers that hadn’t quite rung true.
Ellie, it must be confessed, had had a fabulous — if slightly fraught — afternoon, averting her eyes from Estella’s gleaming body and pushing back every time Estella teased her.
It had made for an incredible character study, and Ellie could see the transformation in herself each time she tried out Estella’s languorous walk or her dangerous smirk in the mirror.
So what did this mean? Did Estella want to see her again? Or was she just trying to wrap things up between them, to get it over quickly? Why did one of those propositions make her pulse race, and the other sit like a stone in her abdomen?
When Estella sent through the details, Ellie felt that stone sink even further.
Estella had asked to meet at her yoga class.
This was no cute outing where they could be alone and talk; it was simply a casual convenience, Ellie being fit into Estella’s usual schedule, maybe getting to grab a smoothie afterwards for a quick chat.
She could feel it coming down the line with perfect clarity: Estella was ready to say goodbye to their little experiment.
She wished it didn’t wind her as much as it did.
It was just… she’d never met anyone quite like Estella.
Ellie was simply here to study that combination of raw sex appeal and glimmering danger that sparked in the air around Estella Grant.
It wasn’t drawing her in like a moth to a flame, really it wasn’t.
Goddamnit, she didn’t love what this nagging sensation low in her belly said about her — bad girls had always been one of her fatal flaws — but this wasn’t actually about her poor choice in hook-ups, it was work.
And oh, what fascinating work Estella Grant was!
Ellie was going to give the performance of her life, she could feel it.
So what if the research experience also came with slightly delicious shiver up her spine?
Ellie would keep that perfectly private and no one — let alone a mob boss — would be any the wiser.
It was with a hint of glumness then, that she dressed herself in her most flattering yoga attire - not that she thought Estella was looking, just, you know, when in Rome - and made her way across the city to an 8PM yoga class. Who the hell did yoga at that time of night, anyway?
She parked her car and looked around. Estella was nowhere to be seen, but then she was hardly the type to be loitering in a carpark after dark.
Ellie wandered through the door, up the stairs and into the yoga studio, sheepishly greeting Jasmine, the yoga instructor who had once praised her regular attendance until Ellie had ditched the class for a more up-close and personal version of stalking Estella Grant.
Estella wasn’t here either, so Ellie took up a position on a mat somewhere toward the middle of the room and waited.
The class was set up slightly differently than she remembered.
Less mats, which made sense as she thought about it.
Of course Estella Grant would pick the deluxe boutique classes.
The lighting was low, which was actually kind of wonderful.
It seemed like they’d be in for a quiet, relaxing wind-down class, which at least meant Ellie wouldn’t have to consider Estella watching her failing a series of vigorous position changes.
More students entered the class in dribs and drabs, mostly women and a handful of men, greeting each other with smiles and polite chatter, some engaged in elaborate stretches, others congregating around the edges discussing paleo ideas for school lunchboxes.
Finally, Jasmine took her place at the mat at the front and began by introducing a new instructor — a lithe young man with a beard — and everyone moved to their mats.
Ellie looked around with increasing impatience: still no Estella.
As she gazed about she realised that the class had assembled with two people per yoga mat.
“Welcome to tonight’s partner yoga class,” Jasmine said with a beatific smile, her gaze moving beneficently around the room at all her students.
Ellie’s spine stiffened. “It looks like we’re all an even number tonight, so welcome to everyone who’s brought a friend.
Oh,” she said, pausing on Ellie. “Are you waiting on someone tonight?”
Ellie opened her mouth, her face flushed pink at all the layers of awkwardness she was experiencing, just as a smooth voice rang out from the doorway.
“Just me,” Estella said, and the entire room seemed to turn slightly electric, swivelling to watch as the head of the Grant criminal enterprise sauntered prettily into the studio, stepping neatly between the yoga mats, all the way across the room to take her place at Ellie’s side.
Ellie felt her slight flush escalate, overtaking her entire body as every single set of eyes in the room stared openly at them.
Estella simply flashed her a blazing smile, then turned her head back to Jasmine, nodding as though she was graciously allowing the instructor to now commence their class.
Partner yoga? Ellie felt her stomach squeeze with anxious butterflies.
Estella had neglected to mention that minor detail.
Oh my god, she’d have to touch her. It wasn’t like Estella would be remotely horrible to touch, but Ellie couldn’t even begin to consider why the idea terrified her so much, not right now, seconds before it was going to happen.
What if it made her palms sweat or her hands shake, or her skin blush at an inopportune moment?
She briefly considered claiming a sudden sickness and bolting from the room.
“Alright, everyone, we’re going to get started this evening, by turning to face our partners and attuning to their breath,” announced Jasmine.
Everyone in the room began to shuffle, getting to their feet.
Ellie tried hard to squash down her alarm and looked quickly to Estella who raised her eyebrows at her.
“You wanted to get to know me better,” Estella reminded her with amusement.
She stood still though, letting Ellie come to her.
Ellie rolled her eyes, trying to feign nonchalance rather than sharp bright confusion.
She copied the example that Jasmine and her buff partner, Charles, were providing — standing toe-to-toe and face-to-face, their arms relaxed at their sides — and stepped in close to Estella.
Oh jesus. Charles was head and shoulders taller than Jasmine, her face almost planted in his burly chest. Estella and Ellie were exactly the same height.
Bright blue eyes were inches from hers as they practically breathed into each other’s mouths.
Estella’s eyes were dancing slightly too much, which meant Ellie was probably the colour of a ripe tomato.
She was instantly relieved when Jasmine instructed them to close their eyes.
“Get as close as you can to your partner, without touching them. Listen for their inhale and feel their exhalation in the air around you. Slow your breathing together until you are breathing in unison. Feel yourselves aligning, becoming fully in sync, breathing as one.”
Ellie had thought she’d made pretty good progress on balance during her short foray into Estella-hunting yoga, but somehow, standing still with her eyes closed was enough to give her the wobbles.
“Sorry,” she whispered, as she swayed on her feet, yet again, her fingers brushing Estella’s.
She was irrationally afraid that somehow their mouths would collide, which: don’t think about that, Ellie!
“Relax,” murmured Estella, and Ellie felt the exhalation of the word hit her right above her top lip. She felt a little shaky. When she inhaled she could smell the scent of Estella, warm and spicy, like the woman was a human cinnamon cookie. For fuck’s sake.
When Jasmine was satisfied they’d breathed each other in sufficiently, she had them sit cross-legged on the yoga mats, back-to-back, every inch of Estella pressing into every inch of Ellie.
Ellie was furiously relieved that they weren’t facing each other anymore, with the heat of Estella’s body burning into hers.
Estella felt firm and warm, so warm that Ellie tried with everything she had not to think of all those lithe muscles pressing into her.
Following Jasmine’s lead, Ellie raised her arms up tall and draped herself back over Estella, who curved her body down, hands encircling Ellie’s wrists to pull her into the stretch.
It was then, while Ellie was arched tight across her, Estella holding her wrists prisoner that Estella chose to murmur smugly, “You like that, don’t you? ”
Ellie spluttered a nervous giggle, far too loud in the quiet room.
“Shut up,” she hissed and she felt Estella’s silent laughter beneath her.
The tease had broken some of the unspoken tension between them, which was the only thing that made the next move possible.
It was Ellie’s turn to lean forward, pulling Estella to arch back over her curved spine, with both of their arms reaching out wide and wrapped around the other, entwined together.
It was supposed to help Estella stretch, a fact Ellie tried extremely hard to focus on, rather than the perfect silkiness of Estella’s soft skin against her own.