Chapter Thirty-Nine
Miles
It was late morning by the time Julian finally convinced me to roll out the yoga mat in his living room.
And by “convinced,” I mean he gave me that look—the one where his eyes soften and tilt upward just slightly, the quiet smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Like I could ever say no to him. Impossible.
“You promised,” Julian said, perched cross-legged on his mat, annoyingly graceful for someone who’d just woken up. “You said you’d try yoga with me today.”
I groaned dramatically, dragging my mat beside his and flopping down like I’d been asked to carry furniture up five flights of stairs. “You realize I have the flexibility of a brick, right?”
Julian’s laugh was soft but real, and God, I never got tired of hearing it. “Don’t be such a baby. I’ll go easy on you.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” I muttered, but secretly, I loved this. Loved seeing him like this—alive, playful, not weighed down by fear. Every day since we walked away from Victor felt like a small piece of Julian stitching himself back together.
“Okay,” Julian said, sliding gracefully onto his hands and knees. “We’re starting with cat-cow. Super simple. Even for you.”
I shot him a mock glare. “Watch it, pretty boy. I might pull something and make you carry me for the rest of the week.”
His lips twitched. “Tempting offer, actually.”
I let out a quiet laugh and followed his lead. Hands on the mat, spine curling and arching, breathing slowly as he counted out soft instructions beside me.
It wasn’t bad. A little strange to move so slow and gentle, but not bad.
But then he had to ruin it. “Okay. Downward dog. Here, I’ll help you,” Julian said, pushing up to stand behind me.
I felt his warm hands on my hips—light but firm—as he adjusted my posture. Holy hell. His fingers pressed, guiding me as he murmured, “Bend here... straighten there... okay, now push your heels down...”
That’s when my hamstrings screamed in protest. “Jesus Christ—” I grunted, twisting halfway around. “Pretty sure my legs were never meant to stretch like this.”
Julian laughed behind me, breath soft against my ear. “You’re so dramatic.”
I could feel his smile without even seeing it. “I am dramatic. Because this is torture,” I groaned. “This is what I get for dating someone who’s secretly a yoga god.”
I caught the faint pink coloring Julian’s ears at the word dating. He was still getting used to that. Still quiet about the title. But it was real. And so was the way his chest rose easier these days. How his shoulders weren’t so tight. How he smiled—really smiled—without flinching.
“Okay, now sit down and spread your legs,” Julian said, grinning like this was all part of some secret evil plan.
I groaned as I lowered myself onto the mat. “I swear to God, if this is that middle-school gym-class torture move...”
“It’s called a straddle stretch,” Julian corrected gently, sitting opposite me and sliding into the position like it was nothing. His chest barely rose with effort. “And it’s good for your hips. Which you clearly neglect.”
I muttered but did as I was told, wincing as my inner thighs pulled like old rubber bands. “Good for my hips, bad for my dignity.”
Julian smirked, leaning forward into a perfect stretch. His palms flat against the mat, back straight, looking like one of those serene yoga poster models.
“Come on, Miles. You’re supposed to reach forward. Or at least pretend to try.”
I gritted my teeth and stretched forward, groaning as the pull in my hamstrings and lower back lit up like fire. “I am trying,” I grunted. “I’m just built like an old man. My body wasn’t made for this kind of abuse.”
Julian laughed—warm and light. God, that sound made everything worth it.
“Maybe next time we should do hot yoga. You’d loosen up faster.”
I shot him a glare from my half-bent position. “Next time? You’re lucky I’m still breathing this time.”
He scooted closer, hands on my knees, gently pressing them down to the floor. His fingertips were warm—steadying. “You’re doing better than I thought.”
“Don’t patronize me, pretty boy,” I huffed. My muscles burned like hell, but... truthfully... I didn’t really mind. Not with him smiling at me like that. “I’ll admit something though—”
Julian raised an eyebrow.
“I kinda like this,” I said through gritted teeth, trying to hold the stretch another second longer. “Even if I die halfway through. You making me suffer in slow motion? Weirdly enjoyable.”
Julian snorted. “I knew you had a thing for suffering.”
“Only if you’re the one making me suffer, sweetheart.”
His face flamed pink, but his grin stayed wide. He scooted back, motioning for me to lie on my back. “Last one. Reclining twist.”
I flopped backward onto the mat like I’d been shot. “Sweet relief.”
Julian knelt beside me, taking one of my knees and gently pulling it across my body. My spine popped with a quiet crack and I groaned—half in pain, half in bliss. His hands pressed gently on my thigh, adjusting my stretch.
“There. Not so bad, right?”
I sighed, letting my head loll toward him. “I might survive this after all.”
Julian smirked and leaned down, brushing a kiss across my temple. “You will. Barely.”
His weight settled beside me as he mirrored the pose, both of us lying there, breathing soft in the quiet room.
My thoughts drifted—
God, I could get used to this. Him smiling. Him teasing. Him safe. Whole. This felt normal. Real. Like something we’d do forever.
“Maybe you’re not completely hopeless,” Julian murmured.
I cracked one eye open. “Careful, pretty boy. If you keep building me up like this, I might just become the new yoga god in this relationship.”
His quiet laugh filled the space between us like sunlight.
And for a few heartbeats longer... all the ugliness of Victor, the past, the pain... melted away. He was healing. And he didn’t even realize how much.
I straightened, standing on the mat as Julian grinned up at me. “See? You survived,” he teased.
“Barely.” I reached for him, pulling him gently by the hand until he stumbled against my chest. “Yoga with you should come with a warning label.”
Julian hummed, resting his head against me for a moment. “What would it say?”
I kissed the top of his hair. “Danger: Will cause heart-stopping distraction. Handle with care.”
His soft laugh warmed my chest.
And in that quiet, holding him close, I couldn’t help the swell of pride in my heart. God, I am proud of him. So fucking proud. Of how far he’d come. Of the way he’s putting himself back together, piece by stubborn piece.
Victor was behind him now.
And this—us, together, in the gentle light of morning—this was real.
“Ready to get pampered, pretty boy?” I murmured against his hair. “Spa day’s waiting.”
He smiled up at me, cheeks pink. “Ready.”
But somewhere in the back of my mind... a flicker of unease stirred. I brushed it away. For now.
Today was for him. Today was for peace.
The car rumbled to a stop just as the sun dipped lower, casting golden light over the steam rising gently from the natural pools ahead.
Julian’s eyes lit up—half excitement, half disbelief.
“I can’t believe we’re finally here,” he said, voice low and breathless, like this was some secret dream come true. “I’ve been wanting to come here forever.”
I smiled, watching him fiddle with the door handle like it was a treasure chest waiting to be unlocked.
“Guess I’m finally spoiling you right,” I teased, pushing the door open and grabbing his hand before he could disappear into the wilds of his own mind. “You’re welcome.”
He shot me a grin, playful but real. “Oh, I’m very grateful. Don’t let it go to your head, though.”
“Too late,” I said, tugging him out of the car and into the crisp evening air. The scent of pine and mineral water hit us immediately. “You’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
Julian rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away, just squeezed my hand back. “You’re such a suck-up.”
I shrugged with a smirk. “Hey, someone’s gotta keep you on your toes.”
We walked side by side toward the entrance, feet crunching on the gravel path. The steam curled and danced ahead, promising warmth and quiet escape. “So,” Julian said, glancing over at me with a mischievous sparkle, “who’s gonna embarrass themselves first in the hot tub? You? Or me?”
I laughed. “Please. I’m the picture of grace and control. You’re the one who nearly crushed me in yoga.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Julian said, mock pouting. “You almost cried.”
“I didn’t cry. I gutted through it.”
He narrowed his eyes, stepping closer, voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Sure you did, pretty boy.”
I pretended to shudder. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“And I’m lucky you’re mine.”
The lobby was rustic and warm, with the faint smell of cedar and lavender. We signed in quickly, still holding hands, still stealing those little smiles that made everything feel easier.
As we changed into our swimsuits, Julian’s laughter echoed in the locker room—a sound that filled me with something close to hope.
When we finally stepped outside, the first thing I saw was the vast natural hot springs, nestled between rocks and trees, steam curling up like smoke from a campfire.
I pulled Julian close, breathing him in. “Ready?”
He smiled and nodded, and together we slipped into the warm water—leaving all the noise of the world behind.
The water was perfect—just the right kind of heat that melted into your muscles and made you sigh out everything ugly from the week. I let myself sink in slow, shoulders dipping beneath the surface as I groaned in relief.
“God, this is heaven,” I muttered, stretching my legs out as far as they could go against the smooth rock beneath the water.
I glanced up toward Julian, who was still hovering at the edge like he was debating his life choices.
“Come on, pretty boy,” I called, resting my arms on the stone edge with a grin. “What are you waiting for? The water’s fine. I promise it won’t bite... but I might if you keep teasing me.”