Chapter 6
Casey
I can’t believe Austin guilted me into coming to this yoga class.
He called me rude, and Jane said I was being chauvinistic when I called yoga a girl’s workout.
But aren’t Austin and I the only men in this class?
It’s not like it’s a real workout, it’s just stretching.
But to make my sister-in-law happy, I agreed to go with Austin.
Besides, stretching my arm might be a good thing.
Last night with Anthony, I didn’t feel any pain but mentally I kept favoring it.
Michael, my physiotherapist, recommended light exercises to keep the muscle loose, so here I am.
But so far, it’s just been about breathing and listening to our bodies. Blah, blah, blah.
I was just about to close my eyes and take a nap when Sage pulled herself onto her hands and knees and stuck her ass up in the air.
Well, shit.
Her round cheeks form a perfect peach in those tight yoga pants. I imagine myself kneeling behind her, and my body responds immediately inside my loose gray shorts.
Fuck.
Quickly, I squash the thought away, avoiding any embarrassment.
I shouldn’t have laughed when I saw Austin in his tights.
Those would have come in handy right now.
Thankfully, we’re sitting at the back of the room and there’s no one behind me getting a free show of my balls.
I didn’t think I would do much in this class, but everyone keeps looking back at me and I don’t want to come across as the creep watching everyone instead of doing the work.
“From here, bring your right leg between your arms, and lift your body into a lunge for Warrior One. Good. Now lift your arms and stare up at the ceiling, keeping your arms in line with your shoulders.”
The move causes my arm to tingle, so I drop it. Unfortunately, Sage notices, steps out of her pose and walks over to me.
Placing her small hands on my elbows, she raises them up halfway. “You can keep the pose here if you’re feeling any discomfort.”
“I’m fine,” I say, and push my arms up to where everyone else is posing. She gives me a hard look and walks back to her mat.
“Good. Now, let’s take this to Warrior Two, looking straight ahead, beyond your fingertips. Hold it here for three breaths.”
Again, Sage steps out of her pose and walks back to me. What could I possibly be doing wrong now? My arms are up, aren’t they?
She places her bare foot next to mine and her pink polish twinkles in the sunlight.
Her foot is slender, and the tendons move as she brushes her heel to the inside of my foot.
“Move this back an inch or so to keep it in line with the front leg,” she whispers next to my lips.
It’s not intentional, and neither is the chill racing up my spine.
When I don’t move, she places her hands on my hips and pulls them back an inch. My foot follows. “There,” she whispers. “That’s very good.”
I wipe a bead of sweat before it trickles down my forehead.
Why is it so hot in this room?
Austin looks back at me and smiles. I ignore him and focus on the next pose. For this one, Sage drops her hand next to her front foot and raises her other arm straight to the ceiling. “This is a triangle pose, and it opens the chest up beautifully.”
I keep my eyes trained to the ceiling instead of checking to see what the pose does to her chest. I’m not a Neanderthal, after all. Man, it feels like I haven’t had a woman in months instead of days. But Sage’s lips and voice have me in knots.
Her gaze lands on my hips and I adjust my position to resemble hers as best as I can. She smiles when my movement pleases her and all I can think about is pleasing her again.
And again.
I close my eyes and listen to my breath. Focusing on my breathing helps narrow my monologue to my body instead of hers. It feels strange at first. I want to open my eyes and check if anyone is watching me.
A quick peek confirms that they are as Mrs. Green quickly looks away. She’s only ten years older than me, but in this town we always refer to our elders by their last names.
Her husband fixes cars and tractors. I took my first car to him for an oil change. I remember seeing Mrs. Green there. She was newly married then. She only had eyes for her husband. Looks like those eyes prefer more variety now.
Or maybe like everyone else she just likes the fact that I play baseball in the big leagues.
I’ve had women tell me they just want to sleep with me because of what I do. At least they’re honest about it.
Thinking of Mrs. Green has cooled the temperature in the room, and I follow Sage’s instructions to the letter.
Her fluid movements remind me of a dancer, but there’s something more earthy to her than showy.
Maybe it’s her big curly hair, or peach leotard.
But I imagine her in a field of wildflowers instead of a club.
A little while later, when Sage tells us to lie flat on our backs and close our eyes, I drift into a semi-unconsciousness, listening to the soothing tone of her voice.
“Imagine yourself in a place that brings you joy and peace. Picture your body floating, without any weight holding you down, and now imagine the air beneath your back.”
Oddly, I do imagine it, just like she tells me to. I feel light and free as though I’m levitating. I inhale deeply and exhale loudly.
“Now picture yourself landing softly onto a bed of fresh grass,” she whispers, and her voice is like a beacon of light guiding my body to where she wants it to go. “Slowly, I want you to move your fingers and your toes, bringing awareness back to your body.”
The movement feels strange. As though I’ve awoken from a full night’s sleep.
“When you’re ready, open your eyes.”
The lines in the ceiling are the first thing I notice, and I blink.
Austin groans beside me and it’s jarring for a moment; I thought it was just me and Sage in this room. “That was amazing,” he says as he rolls onto his side and sits up. “What did you think?”
“It was different. But good.”
“That’s it?”
What did he want me to say? That it changed my life? “Yeah. That’s it.”
Sage walks over to us and flips her hair. “So, how do you feel?”
Her eyes appear lighter, the sun making them look even brighter. For some reason, I don’t want to disappoint her. “It was great. Really good.”
“How’s your arm?”
“It’s fine.”
“I can show you some exercises to help improve mobility.”
I don’t tell her that Michael has already given me ten exercises that I work on weekly because I like the way her mouth curls up in a smile when she suggests it.
“That would be great.”
“Um, I’m free this afternoon if you are.”
“Austin and I are going to the hospital after this. But I’m free after that. Your place or mine?”
“I thought you were staying with Austin and Jane.”
“I am. Let’s make it yours then.”
She shakes her head. “I’ll text you the address. What’s your number?” She pulls out her phone.
“I like how sly you did that. Getting my number and a date at the same time.”
“This isn’t a date,” she says but a small smile refutes her statement.
“Right. You are just going to show me ways to move that will help me feel better. Not a date. But sounds like the makings of a good date to me.”
She shakes her head again and pushes her hair off her shoulder. “I’ll see you around five.”
“See you then.”
I watch her walk back to her mat where she bends over and rolls it up. Austin nudges me with his shoulder. “I always knew that you and Sage would hit it off.”
“I haven’t hit anything yet, but I plan to, brother. Real soon if I’m lucky.”
“Whoa.” Austin punches my arm, and I wince. “That’s not what I meant. And you better not break her heart, or you’ll have to deal with me, little brother.”
I massage the spot that he hit and ponder my predicament. Sage Summers is hot. And she makes my body feel things I only feel when a woman touches me, and she does it with only her voice. I don’t want to break her heart. I only want to taste her lips. And maybe a bit more if she’ll let me.
Sage
The house is a mess. I gather three fluffy blankets from the couch and shove them into the hallway closet.
There’s a pack of dried blueberries lying on the coffee table with a half-empty glass of water beside it.
I grab them and put them in the kitchen.
Tidying up is a lot more exhausting than a full day of yoga because my brain doesn’t care if my place is neat and tidy.
I like how my house looks after I clean it, but I usually get distracted by the million other things I want to do instead of cleaning.
But now that it's done, I look around my place and smile. There, that does look nice.
Checking my phone, I realize I only have ten minutes before Casey is supposed to arrive.
Despite his annoying habits, his flirtations earlier made me feel a certain kind of way, I’m not necessarily proud to admit.
I’m here to help him, though, not date him. Yes, he irritates me, but I wish it was enough to not make my body react to him. I can’t help it. I’ve fantasized about him for years, and the way he takes care of his father makes me wonder if there is more to his character.
I pick up my anatomy notes and some of the research I’ve been working on for muscle strains. There’s a lot here that I want to go over with Casey, but I promise myself not to pry. Afterall, I’m not his therapist.
My hand flies to my chest at the sound of the doorbell. He’s early. I was hoping to take a few minutes to meditate before he arrived.
Patting my hair down and twisting it around my fingers, I square my shoulders and open the door. “Hi,” I say, a little too breathless. Darn it.