Chapter 24
“There was supposed to be pastry.” Alex slid into a wobbly warrior pose, letting out a groan as she sank into the stretch. “I thought you all held planning sessions at Meredith’s.”
“Yoga calms the mind and clears space for plans.” Meredith eased deeper into the lunge; her pale arms reaching gracefully out to either side.
She’d braided her long red hair into a single plait that stretched down her back.
She looked like she belonged on the cover of Yoga Monthly, even with the tabby cat winding his way around her legs.
“Whatever you say, Yoda.” Alexa straightened and stepped back into mountain, startling the calico who’d worked up the nerve to approach her yoga mat.
“We’re getting food after, right?” asked Charlotte, looking slightly alarmed.
I shared Charlotte’s feelings, if not Alex’s temporary aversion to yoga.
Especially not the cat kind. I couldn’t imagine downward dog with baby goats, but the cat yoga class was a treat.
Growing up, my mother would have sooner gone out with chipped nails than allow an animal in our space.
Despite the urge to have someone living to come home to, I couldn’t see myself as a pet owner.
I worked too much for a dog, and I couldn’t reconcile the potential risk of claw marks on my furniture with having a cat.
Kitty cuddles and yoga made a decent compromise.
I’d slept surprisingly well considering it hadn’t been the bed I’d really wanted to be in and woke up thinking about Jake and our date. Or obsessing about it depending on how you wanted to look at it. I could use a little mind clearing this morning, with eggs Benedict after.
“I booked a reservation for us at that place on Decatur,” I said, moving into downward dog. “A client recommended it. They’re supposed to have an exceptional brunch.” I made psss psss psss noises at a big orange tom cat who sauntered over to bump his head against my forehead.
“I’ve heard of that place. That sounds great,” said Kindra.
Of the five of us, she seemed to be most into the spirit of early morning cat yoga.
She’d abandoned the active poses and settled into full lotus, stroking the tortoise shell who’d nestled itself in her lap. I could hear the purring from my mat.
“But they have real food, right? That they cook?” Alex, stretched out in downward dog, turned her head and blew her dark hair out of her face to pin me with an upside-down gaze.
“I only made you go to the raw food place one time.” I dropped to my knees, and the orange cat wove back and forth between my forearms while I twisted my head to avoid getting a face full of tail.
“And it was good. Admit it.” I’d been on a clean food kick at the time, but I still thought about the green juice with star fruit and kiwi.
Maybe I could figure out how to recreate it and get some use out of my mostly neglected kitchen.
“It was grass in a glass.” Alex sank into cow pose, and the cat who’d been playing with her hair seized the opportunity to jump on her back, making biscuits on her butt before curling into a ball.
She glanced over her shoulder at the new passenger before sinking slowly into child’s pose. Yoga might be good for clearing the mind but cat yoga—while adorable—was a bit of a free-for-all.
“They cook the food.” I gave up and followed her into child’s pose, snuggling the kitty to me with one arm before it decided it wanted to sit on my head or something equally objectionable. It immediately began purring and bumping its head against my cheek. Which might make me a cat yoga convert.
For the first time in the whole class, the room was quiet.
I glanced around just long enough to see my friends and the rest of the participants cuddled in various positions with an assortment of felines.
Some in the child pose like the teacher instructed but many, like Kindra, simply holding purring cats.
My kitty snuggled in my arms and started a rumbling purr that had me reconsidering the whole no-pets rule.
After class, I sent Jake a text while I waited in the yoga studio lobby for my friends. I had to get out of there before I did something crazy, like roll my new furry friend up in my yoga mat to smuggle home.
ME
I just did yoga with a cat. Did you have any pets growing up?
JAKE
Yes, a dog.
JAKE
Do you mean you and the cat did yoga together or was it like goat yoga where the animals just run all over the place?
ME
Like goat yoga but no hooves which I think must be much better. What kind of dog? What was his name?
JAKE
A mutt with some kind of terrier. He came from the pound. We named him Turing.
The name sounded familiar. I thought for a moment, trying to place it, before giving up and googling it.
ME
Like the computer science guy?
JAKE
Exactly like that but without the opposable thumbs.
“Business or personal?” asked Kindra.
I’d been so caught up in my conversation with Jake, I hadn’t heard her approach.
“Personal,” I said, still smiling to myself. It had always been personal with Jake but getting to know you conversations were a new experience. One I wanted more of.
“It’s good to see you smiling like that over something personal.” She put a hand on my arm, and I leaned into her. “Do you want to talk about him?”
“He’s my friends-with-benefits guy.” It felt wrong describing Jake like that now. “It’s just turned into so much more.”
“What’s turned into more?” Charlotte pinned me with her attorney gaze, while Alex and Meredith flanked her.
“Nothing that can’t wait until I’ve got a plate with hollandaise-covered eggs in front of me,” I said, putting off the inevitable.
“That’s fair,” said Alex, swinging her rolled yoga mat over her shoulder. “Lead on.”
We made the short walk to the restaurant my client recommended and took a seat at one of the tables in the garden.
Charlotte waited until the server brought our drinks and took our order before leaning her elbows on the table. She rested her chin on her hands in a move that made it clear I held her full focus. “Tell us about the more.”
I inhaled, suddenly nervous and not just because Charlotte’s focus could make a powerful CEO confess a litany of sins. Inviting Jake to the party meant he’d be meeting my friends. For me that was a much bigger deal than meeting biological family.
“It’s my friends-with-benefits guy.”
“The sex toys were a hit, and you want more,” Alex said at a volume sure to carry to the neighboring tables. “I knew you’d love them. What was it—the beads or the clamps?”
“Jesus. Keep it down.” I felt my face flush. “I don’t think the people inside the restaurant heard you.”
“Sorry,” she said, sounding anything but. “I got excited. Did you get excited?” She took a sip of her café au lait and waggled her eyebrows at me.
“Not exactly. We haven’t had a chance to try them out yet.” I looked around the table at my friends’ expectant faces and decided I was done being a coward. “I took the toys to his house and when he invited me inside, I threw up on his feet.”
“You are kidding me.” Charlotte looked equal parts horrified and amused.
“This is a whole new level.” Kindra nodded to herself as if I’d unlocked a video game quest or something.
“It’s not a level I intend on repeating. Ever.”
“What did he do?” asked Meredith.
“He took care of me.” I felt the weight of the words as I said them. After a lifetime of taking care of myself, Jake took care of me. Even my mother had been rubbish at that.
“Oh, honey.” Kindra’s warm brown-eyed gaze met mine. “That’s fantastic.”
“That’s just human,” said Charlotte. “Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing if the tables were turned.”
I thought for a moment and realized I wasn’t sure I would. I hadn’t even invited Jake to my home. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
“I don’t know.” I didn’t love what that said about me. “Of course, I’d make sure he was okay and that he made it home safely, but I don’t know if I’d have nursed him at my place for three days.”
I told them everything over eggs Benedict and lots of coffee.
The way Jake cleaned up after me. The way he’d bought out the sports drink aisle and got his doctor friend to make sure I’d be okay.
The way he helped me shower, got me dressed, put me to bed, and then stayed with me, watching movies.
I told them the way the sex changed between us and playing girlfriend and how much I’d wanted to spend the night at his place.
“Wow,” said Meredith when I’d finally run out of words.
Alex leaned back in her chair, grinning at me, while Kindra sipped her coffee, watching me over the rim of her cup as if I’d passed some kind of secret intimacy test.
“He saw you without your makeup?” Charlotte set her cup on the saucer and leaned toward me. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you without your makeup. Not that you wear too much. I don’t mean that. You’re just always put together.”
“I’ve known you for years,” said Meredith. “And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look less than perfect.”
“I have,” said Alex. “But it was at a spa and behind closed doors. You still looked pretty perfect. All glowy.”
Kindra was the only one who didn’t pile on, and I tried hard not to feel attacked.
It had been drilled into me for as long as I could remember that my worth was tied to how I looked.
Not just the normal pretty girl thing: my worth as a woman, opportunities available to me, everything.
My mother lived it every damn day, and she made sure I knew it too.
Jake had seen me at my worst, and he still wanted me.
“When do we get to meet this man?” asked Kindra, bringing the conversation back to the place I’d meant to end up.
“I invited him to Charlotte’s party.” I held my breath, waiting to see how my friends responded.
“Yes,” said Meredith, doing a little chair dance.
“What’s he like—aside from the admittedly awesome bits while you were sick?” asked Charlotte.