16. Downward Dog
16
DOWNWARD DOG
SUMMER
I was perfectly balanced—my mind was clear, my breath steady, and my body aligned in tadasana, the mountain pose…until he walked into my yoga class.
What the ever-loving fuck?
I wobbled, nearly tipped over, caught myself, and glared at him.
“Focus,” Meadow laughingly called from where she was on her yoga mat. A few others in my class tittered at that.
Focus? Focus ? How was I supposed to do that when six feet two inches of broad-shouldered, shaggy-haired distraction had just strolled into my class with dimples?
That’s when I heard someone say, “ I’d lose my pose any time for him .”
“Hey, Sunshine.” He grinned at me.
He was in joggers and a tank top. Seriously ?
“What are you doing here?” I hissed.
“Meadow invited me.”
I glared at Meadow as some of my students snickered. Basil calmly walked up to Meadow and rolled out his yoga mat.
“Please continue, I’ll catch up.” He casually stretched his arms above his head, his tank top riding up just enough to distract me further. “Just here to get in touch with my spiritual side.”
And then…he had the nerve to flash me his dimpled, innocent-as-sin smile.
Son of a bitch!
“Alright, back to mountain pose. Root through all four corners of your feet,” I instructed, walking through the rows of students. “Engage your thighs, draw your belly in, and roll your shoulders back.”
Basil stood stock-still, looking far too smug for someone who had no idea what he was doing.
I narrowed my eyes. Oh, he thinks this is easy, does he?
I stepped up behind him, placing a hand lightly between his shoulder blades. “Stand taller,” I murmured, and pressed against him.
His breath hitched.
Oh, well, isn’t that interesting?
I fought a smirk. “And tuck your pelvis slightly. You’re standing like a guy who spends too much time at a desk.”
“Stop it, this is a yoga class, not soft porn,” Meadow whispered loudly enough for several students to hear. Laughter rang through the studio.
“Cut it out, Meadow.”
My best friend chuckled.
Basil glanced at me but did as he was told, adjusting his posture. I stepped back and gave into the urge to admire how ridiculously good he looked.
Focus, Summer!
I cleared my throat. “And now, we breathe.”
If only it were that simple because my breath was caught somewhere between my legs.
“How long have you been doing yoga?” Sharon, who was next to Basil, asked.
She looked him up and down like he was a piece of meat, and I didn’t blame her. I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t fault her because he looked fine .
“Since now.” He shot me a grin before turning back to Sharon. “I heard the instructor is amazing. Life-changing, really.”
Sharon sniggered.
Someone whispered. “Is he the boyfriend?”
“Oh my God, if he was my boyfriend, I’d climb him like a tree.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake! Was Basil vying to be a major player in the spank banks of all these women?
No, honey, just yours, my naughty subconscious said as she licked her lips.
“We’re moving into downward dog,” I instructed, stepping to the front of the room. “Hands shoulder-width apart, feet hip-width apart…press through your palms and lift your hips toward the ceiling.”
The class adjusted, shifting smoothly into the pose.
Except for one person, who was doing something that wasn’t yoga, at all.
Basil’s arms were locked, his legs barely bent, and instead of forming the signature inverted V-shape, he looked like a confused plank.
I pressed my lips together. “Basil, what are you doing?”
He lifted his head slightly, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “Downward dog?” he mused hesitantly.
Meadow burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Basil, that is not downward dog. That’s like…collapsing table.”
I walked over, placing my hands on my hips. “Bend your knees slightly if your hamstrings are too tight. And spread your fingers—don’t just rest on your wrists unless you want them to hate you forever.”
Basil exhaled sharply but did as I said. His form improved.
“Okay, better,” I quipped. “Now, press your heels toward the mat—no, don’t force them down—lengthen through your spine.”
Basil groaned. “Summer, I think my spine is already as long as it gets.”
That made me smile. “And yet, you’re still not stretching enough. Hips higher.”
Basil let out a long, suffering breath but lifted his hips. And?—
“Jesus.” He winced. “My hamstrings just filed a complaint.”
“Relax, big guy,” I teased. “Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth.”
He did, though it sounded a little like he was wheezing.
I crouched beside him, watching as his muscles gradually stopped resisting the pose. His breath evened out, and his shoulders relaxed.
“See? Not so bad.”
From under his arms, his muffled voice responded, “Says the person who’s not currently dying.”
I stepped back enjoying the hell out of him. “Just wait until we get to pigeon pose.”
His head lifted slightly and looked suspiciously at me. “That sounds like a trap.”
I let out a soft laugh. “Oh, it is.”
After class, when everyone left, he stayed while I cleaned up. “You’re not flexible,” I admonished him.
His blue-blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “You used to not think that.”
All that touching and looking and…now I had memories.
Once, I had dragged Basil—albeit, reluctantly—to a yoga class, not one I was teaching but taking. It had taken all of ten minutes before he started whispering jokes, making me laugh so hard I’d lost balance in tree pose and nearly taken out an old lady behind me.
Afterward, he’d pinned me against the studio wall and murmured in my ear, “If yoga always makes you that giggly, we should do this more often.”
I had then dragged him home and used up every ounce of his flexibility in much better ways.
Seriously, Summer, you got to focus!
I am focused…on getting it on with Basil.
He walked and winced. “I think I pulled something.”
“Good,” I retorted sweetly. “That means it’s working.”
His eyes locked onto mine, something warm flickering in them. “I missed this.”
Air stalled in my throat. Yes, we were all sexed up, but the warmth in his eyes was more than lust. He was, like me, remembering how happy we’d been together. How playful we were. How much we enjoyed each other. How we laughed so hard that our stomachs hurt.
And damn him, damn him to hell , because my stupid heart clenched, hard because I wanted to laugh with him again.
Meadow came into the studio and looked at both of us like she’d caught us with our hands in each other’s pants.
I wish!
“You can’t have sex in the studio,” she announced.
“Fuck off, Meadow,” I shot back.
She laughed like a loon. “You’re both so cute.”
Basil wiped sweat from his brow. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight so we can talk about how I can improve my…ah… poses ?”
I opened my mouth to shut that down, but Meadow gasped dramatically and spun toward me. “Oh my God, do it.”
“Meadow—”
“Do it. Do it. Do it,” she chanted.
“Yeah, Sunshine, do it ,” Basil suggested salaciously.
I threw my hands up in the air. “ Fine .”
Meadow screamed in victory.
Basil grinned like he’d just won the lottery.
And while I feigned irritation, my heart did a thousand cartwheels.