20. Lyla
Lyla
Sutton stands back in the living room, hands on her hips, admiring our work as I finish taking up the last cluster of brightly coloured balloons.
Beck seems like the exact opposite to the type of person who would enjoy balloons. They’re so whimsical, and utterly pointless. That’s why I insisted he have as many of them as possible.
Skye gasps as she walks in through the foyer. “My brother is going to hate this. It’s amazing.”
Sutton laughs maniacally.
“Is it weird that I kind of hope he likes it?” I ask, trying to keep my expression and tone neutral, not give myself away that underneath all the teasing, it would feel good to do something nice for Beck. There’s a part of me that hopes he has fun.
Sutton waves her arms around, gesturing at the decorations. “It’s only weird if you thought this was going to be a party Beck Hollis would enjoy.”
It’s like a Party Zone exploded in here, like when you microwave a pizza pocket for too long, except what came out of it was colourful balloons, party streamers, and a banner that says ‘another year cooler’.
In all fairness, Party Zone is where I bought all this stuff.
I made a stop on my way out of the city after my interview.
Skye laughs. “I think all the other guests will love it.”
The funny thing is, this party has been good for me, even if Beck hates it. It’s kept my mind off of the interview, and it’s stopped me from giving into the temptation of watching the video of me circulating on social media.
After my conversation with Beck the other night, I find myself caring a little bit less about how people perceive me. Somehow, his assurance that my “worst” qualities are his favourite ones, made me reevaluate some of the narratives I’ve believed about myself.
But I haven’t stopped caring at all, it seems, because the thought of Beck’s face lighting up as he walks through the door makes my stomach flip flop in an oddly giddy way.
I’m probably just getting my hopes up.
The doorbell rings, and Skye welcomes our first guests. Nash, and the three other ranch hands that Beck hasn’t fired yet. I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself, but I hear Sutton greet them–Leo, Chase, and Marcus apparently.
I told Sutton to extend the invite to whoever he thought Beck would like to have here. And, because I don’t want the party to be a total bust, and I know Beck at least a little, I made sure to keep the guest list small. Only the people he truly cares about.
The jury is still out as to whether or not that list includes me.
More guests trail in behind them, leaving a pile of nearly indistinguishable cowboy boots near the front door. Soon, the house is nearly full, with people milling about in the kitchen, the living room, and even spilling out onto the porch through the wide open sliding door.
“Great party, Lyla.” Nash approaches me and throws a casual arm over my shoulders, nursing a beer in his other hand.
At first glance, I wouldn’t have thought he bore any resemblance to Beck, but up close, I can see the Hollis men's genes. The strong square jaw, the straight nose, the rich brown eyes. The only difference I see in this moment is that Nash has sandy blonde hair, whereas Beck’s is dark.
I smile up at him. “Thanks.”
“Hey, I’m really sorry about bringing up the video the other day,” he says, removing his arm and turning to face me. “I thought you knew about it and you’ve never been bothered much by that kind of thing. I didn’t think it would affect you the way it did.”
“Did Beck hold you at gunpoint to make you say that?”
He lets out a low laugh. “No, no. Beck didn’t say anything. It was bothering me.”
“It’s okay, Nash. I appreciate the apology,” I say, and I mean it.
“So, quick question,” he says, changing the subject as he looks around at the tacky decor. “You were intending on throwing a party for my brother, right?”
I laugh, but it’s punctuated by the sound of my phone chiming in my back pocket.
Wade said he’d text when he and Beck were five minutes out.
He was on board with the plan from day one, and offered to come up with an errand to get Beck out of the house for the morning.
He said he needed to refill his prescription, that he’d forgotten and totally ran out of his heart medication.
WADE
were akmost ther
Now he’s texted me a string of nearly incomprehensible letters, and I’d be afraid he was having a stroke if I didn’t tell him to not let Beck see that he’s texting me. He’s probably typing this from his pocket.
I quickly spring into action, gathering everyone and telling them to hide and shutting the lights off. A second later, a key rattles in the front door.
I’m practically vibrating with a nauseating combination of nerves and excitement. But when Beck’s voice rumbles through the entry way, something calm washes over me, too.
Wade is doing a commendable job of keeping their conversation casual, apologizing about his medication mix-up.
Beck’s footsteps draw nearer to the kitchen, and as he rounds the corner, I flick the lights on, the flash of light and colour and people shouting “Surprise!”.
Shock overtakes his permanent scowl, and then there’s something else. There’s a hint of a smile and a glimmer in his eyes. Had I so much as blinked I might have missed it.
I stand back and enjoy the experience of watching Beck’s friends greet him with handshakes and that weird hug that only men do, one-armed and quick to separate. Nash already has a beer to put in his hand, and instead of a thank you, Beck responds with “who’s taking care of the chores?”
“We’re all done for the day,” Nash says with a proud grin. “Austin and I will head down to the barn again after the party.”
He nods, and then turns in my direction, his dark gaze landing on me. It used to be intimidating. I used to find it scrutinizing, critical, and cold. But now I’m certain I was wrong this whole time, maybe my entire life. Beck thinks and feels more deeply than anyone I know.
My heart thunders in my chest as he walks toward where I’m standing in the corner of the kitchen. He shoves a hand in his pocket and takes a sip of his beer. I can’t help but fixate on the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows.
“I didn’t take you for much of a wallflower,” he says.
I shrug. “I’m just enjoying the show.”
His eyebrow quirks up. “I assume this was all your doing.”
My mouth goes dry as I nod. Being at a loss for words is a state I am not used to, but for some reason my quick wit has left the building.
“Any more surprises coming my way?”
“Actually yes,” I say, trying to suppress my excitement for the real event to begin. I slide my hand down his forearm and take his hand in mine. The contact makes my skin buzz. A tingling warmth spreads quickly from where we connect down to the base of my core. It makes my insides feel molten.
I lead him over to the sliding door, all of Beck’s friends and family watching to see his reaction. When we get outside he takes in the scene before him. Twenty-something yoga mats are spread out evenly across the lawn, with small, fluffy creatures bounding happily in the grass between them.
“We’re doing Bunny Yoga!” I exclaim, gesturing to the yard in a ta-da motion. I look back at Beck, whose expression has gone flat.
“What in the world is bunny yoga?” he grumbles.
I beam up at him. “Exactly what it looks like. We’re doing yoga with bunnies.”
“I am not doing yoga. And I sure as hell am not doing it with bunnies.”
Skye and Sutton are already playing on the lawn with the rabbits, and hearing Beck’s resistance to the idea, Skye comes over to where we’re standing.
“Come on Beck, how could you say no to her?” She holds up a bunny to his face. It’s all white except for a pale tan spot around one eye and over its bunchy tail. Its nose twitches as if assessing Beck by his smell.
“How do you know if that thing is a boy or a girl? There’s so much… fluff,” Beck says.
Skye shrugs with a smile. “I don’t know, it’s just her aura.”
He huffs, but then looks closer at the bunny, at the long ears folded flat against its head.
“Are you into this? Blink twice if you’re here against your will,” he says to the bunny, and her ears perk up. His expression softens at the small animal. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”
“You’ll need to get changed into something more comfortable,” I point out, looking down at the stiff jeans and the snug fitting t-shirt. I wouldn’t mind if he kept the t-shirt. It hugs his biceps in a way that makes me want to sink my teeth into them.
“This is comfortable,” he argues.
I gesture around at the other party guests, clad in the casual athleisure wear I asked them to bring. “Something you can move in.”
“I can move in these. I ride in these.”
“Okay. Well then let’s do it.”
I invite all the guests to find a mat on the lawn, and because I didn’t have enough money to hire a yoga instructor for today, I position myself on the mat facing the group.
Everyone follows my instructions to find a comfortable position on the mat, and start by taking some cleansing breaths.
“Inhale peace and calm, exhale worry,” I say, leading them through three breaths before moving on to the rest.
I put together an easy enough flow for everyone to follow, no crazy balancing poses, and nothing that requires a Cirque du Soleil level of flexibility.
That’s why, by the fifth cue I give, I’m already trying to stifle my laughter as Beck struggles getting himself into a downward facing dog.
His feet are slipping, legs crunched up as if they’ve never been straight before, and his face is turning red from the inversion.
The bunny from earlier hops over, settling in the spot directly under Beck’s face, the ears brushing against his nose. He mutters something under his breath, so I wander over to help him.
I let the rest of the group hold the pose for a moment longer, while I scoop the bunny up and move it back onto the grass where it munches happily.
“If you space your hands further apart and spread your fingers wider, it’ll help give you more stability,” I say, keeping my voice low so only he can hear. I’m sure Beck is not the type of man who enjoys being corrected in front of all of his friends.
Despite all of his stubbornness, he does as he’s told, so I give him another cue, this time with my hands. I use a feather light touch on his hips to show him how I want him to move them up and back.
“Good,” I murmur. “Remember to breathe.”
His body is solid and firm in my hands, but I feel him let out a long, measured exhale as he lifts his hips up. The hem of his shirt falls slightly, giving me a glimpse of his abs. From what I can see at this angle, they’re well-defined from all the physical labour he does every day.
I snap my eyes away from the rigid lines and hard edges of his body, and remove my hands from his waist.
As I finish up the yoga flow, I try to think about anything but Beck. I have everyone do lion’s breath, opening their mouths wide and sticking out their tongues for a very unsexy exhale. I think about bunnies. Cute, innocent, sweet little bunnies.
Still, my mind betrays me, my eyes wander, and they always land back on him.
My body is on fire by the time we finish with the bunny yoga, and it wasn’t from the exercise.
I spent most of my time wandering around through the yard, helping to correct postures.
To my surprise, Wade had the most flexibility of anyone, and when I asked him about it, he credited his physiotherapist at the cardiac clinic, adding a suggestive wink that I made a mental note to ask him about later.
Halfway through the session, clouds start forming overhead, and a light breeze picks up, cooling everyone down.
The flush creeping up from my chest has more to do with the surly cowboy who, while stiff and somewhat uncoordinated, threw himself into the yoga with everything he had.
Beck doesn’t do anything half-assed, I’ll credit him that.
So he tried, he really did. And by the end of it, I swear I could visibly see the tension leaving his body, I could feel his energy softening, relaxing.
I thank the woman who came from the rescue and I help her put some of the bunnies in their cages.
She informs everyone before leaving that any of the bunnies today are available to take home, and Nash took two–a brown one with black-tipped ears, and a small cream coloured dwarf bunny that he told me he couldn’t resist.
Once all the bunnies are loaded up, save the ones Nash now holds in his arms, and the yoga mats rolled and put away, we head back inside the house and with perfect timing, too. Heavy raindrops have started falling, and people quickly retreat under the covered porch or inside the house.
Nash brings his new pets inside and sets them down on the floor in the living room. Everyone helps themselves to the food and snacks spread out on the dining room table, milling about and chatting, most of them still talking about how much they enjoyed the yoga.
The party is a hit overall, and inside, I’m elated. Every so often, my eyes are drawn to wherever Beck is standing across the room. Currently, he’s standing in the living room talking to my brother.
He’s worn a wide range of emotions on his face today, everything from annoyance, to horrified, to humiliated.
But in this moment, he also looks happy.
And the smile on his face makes my elation turn into pure joy.