Chapter Thirty-Seven
Tera
“No.” I pout stubbornly as I clutch my mat like it’s a teddy bear to comfort me.
“Get out of the car, Tera.” Shade sounds so impatient that I feel a little bad. I know he needs to leave, but I’m terrified of going back into the gym.
“Come with me,” I shamelessly beg.
“I have to work. You have to exercise. It’s one hour twice a week. It’s not that traumatic. You can walk in there on your own, or I can drag you kicking and screaming. Choose.”
I sigh and give him sad puppy eyes, “Please come with me?”
When he opens his door, my eyes widen, and I rush to get out on my own before he can make it around the hood.
“See you in an hour,” he waves a hand and slides back into the car to leave.
“Jerk.” Some moral support he is.
I’m just in time to slide into class and claim my spot. I choose a darker corner this time so I can just disappear. It helps that it’s close to the back exit for when I run again. I should be ashamed for being a coward, but I’m justified. My panties were too wet last time for bravery.
Maybe it was just a one-time thing, and the real teacher called out sick that day. I start praying that some supermodel of a woman walks in and takes over. I don’t think it’s going to happen, though, because the ladies up front are buzzing again.
One hour. Just one hour twice a week. Of sensual torture.
I hate Shade so much right now. Blaze, too, now that I think about it.
Max called this morning, and I watched as it rang and rang. By the time I decided to pick up, it went to voicemail, and I didn’t have the courage to call him back. If I don’t talk to him, I can stay in the fantasy zone of us being together without any problems. Reality can take a mini vacation until it finally catches up with me.
I’m being selfish. It’s going to end up hurting him. I hate myself for not just ending it. Every time I think about it, the nausea and self-hatred well up until I’m sick. Avoiding him it is, for now.
I set up and sit to really start praying. I know there’s no one up there listening when the squeals start.
Oh no.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to block out the excited chatter and questions getting thrown out. Once it sounds like everyone is all ready to go, I open my eyes and stand, ready to get this over with.
This time, his shirt is black. I zero in on it like a heat-seeking missile, refusing to look at anything else. When he starts the warm-up in his husky voice, I do my best to ignore the tone and follow his instructions.
My movements feel jerky, and it makes me sad. How can I enjoy this when I’m so stressed about embarrassing myself? Maybe I should ask if there’s a different teacher I could sign up with.
With that saving thought in mind, my body finally begins to loosen, and the poses become easier, my smile coming back as my body warms. His voice can seduce me all it wants. I only have twenty more minutes with it. Then I can see the front desk and freedom.
By the time we get to the meditation pose, I’m free-floating again.
“Sukhasana.”
“What did he say?” I hear someone whisper distantly.
I sit with my legs crossed, one foot placed in front of the other, with my knees touching the mat. The pose makes me feel grounded and is one of my favorites. It’s easy to slip away, feeling like a pillar standing strong despite the looseness of my body.
There’s a lot of muttering and shifting in front of me as he explains the pose, but I don’t open my eyes, sinking into myself for peace. I let go of all the problems in my life and just be for a few minutes.
“Open your eyes.”
My eyes snap open at the command, and I breathe a sigh of relief that he isn’t in front of me again. He’s standing at the front of the class, looking at the ladies seated at his feet.
For a second, I’m disappointed that I don’t have his attention. Then I mentally slap myself out of it. I don’t want his attention.
Do I?
Ugh.
Everyone starts to get up, and I frown in confusion. Hello? He didn’t say Namaste. As they swarm him I’m left sitting like an idiot, waiting for the final word so I can get up. Did he forget? How can he know all the poses by name and forget Namaste? Is he just going to leave with me sitting here? Should I get up?
“Namaste.” His voice says clearly.
My shoulders relax. Maybe he saw the only idiot still in a meditation pose and remembered.
I don’t rush to roll my mat this time, feeling a lot better about the whole class. He isn’t perfect, he messed up. He’s just a normal person. There’s no reason for me to be intimidated by the way my body reacts to him. I’m just like everyone else in this class.
I slip my shoes on with a smile and leave to meet up with Shade.
Asher
Thursday comes, and I stick to my office with the door closed so no one can witness the battle I’m having with myself over a woman I’ve seen once and haven’t spoken to. I almost have myself convinced I’m back to normal when the ten-minute alarm for the first yoga class of the day goes off. I snatch it up and rush out the door like my ass is on fire.
I guess I have a new normal.
Fuckme.
When I walk into class, I look for her right away, sighing in relief when I find her sitting off to the side with her eyes closed.
She looks stressed. Now would not be a good time to approach her, especially with half the class clamoring for my attention. I want to know what’s wrong, but I actually have to introduce myself to her before I can interrogate her. It’s a ridiculous inner fight to come to that conclusion and make it stick.
I get everything started, and my frown begins to grow. She’s not into this at all today. Whatever is going on is keeping her from reaching that headspace she needs. What did Max do? Did the people who bullied her start back up again?
It’s only minutes later, while I’m stewing that her shoulders relax, and she starts smiling. A tension I didn’t even notice was building in my body releases suddenly. We’re in sync now. It feels so right. My mood lightens, and I continue the class. I’ve got it bad.
When it’s time for meditation, I can’t resist throwing out a test.
“Sukhasana.”
She doesn’t even hesitate, and I can’t stop my grin as I slide into the pose at the same time she does. The rest of the class flounders for a second before mimicking my position. I don’t make the rounds today. The temptation to stop in front of her again to see that tiny smile up close is almost overwhelming. I’m better off keeping my ass up here.
“Open your eyes.”
When I stand, the class stands with me and begins to swarm the platform. Frustration eats at me. I didn’t say they were done.
I push the feeling down because this isn’t the place for my particular set of rules. It isn’t fair for me to hold them to the standards I would set for a partner. I’m usually in a better state of calm when I run this class. It’s unusual that my kinks are showing now. I know just who to blame, too. Myself for lusting after a woman who has never spoken to me.
I rub a tired hand over my face as the questions start. When I drop my arm, I look around the group for her and grit my teeth when she isn’t there. Did she run again?
My breath catches in my throat when I look at her spot, not finding it empty at all like I thought. She’s still sitting in position, hands palms up on her knees, looking around in confusion. My heart gives one painful squeeze and then starts racing. I keep staring until I realize she’s getting upset, trying to figure out what she should do. Shit.
“Namaste,” I call over the chatter going on around me and bow. Her shoulders drop in relief, and she returns the gesture, mouthing the words to herself. The rest of the class returns the salutation as well. I stare as she rolls up her mat calmly and slides into her shoes.
Come on. Come to me.
She walks out with her little smile, perfectly relaxed and leaving me so wound up I want to chase her down. Because that wouldn’t terrify her at all. I rub my face again, hiding my grimace.