Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
AUGUST
The end of April is giving us a lot of sunshine and bright skies. That's the magic of Dove Point. You can be in one of the worst seasons anywhere else and not get weather like this.
Sure, it's cold out, but it's not icicles hanging from your nostrils cold. It's a wrap-yourself-in-a-scarf, beanie, and puffy-jacket type of cold. Even being by the water, you would think there'd be constant wind that feels like ice cubes hitting your face.
Teenagers are still surfing like its summertime, and it brings me joy to see that the winter blues won't stop anyone from enjoying themselves.
I make it to the yoga studio for Riley's class ten minutes before it starts. I made sure to stretch for thirty minutes before I left the house. I wouldn't say I'm competitive per se, but I’d die happy if I got Riley to take me out to dinner.
Two employees sit behind a white marble counter before one looks up at me to greet me. “Hi, welcome in.”
“Hi, I’m here for Riley Lewis’ class.” I stand there awkwardly. How does this work? Do I take off my shoes now? Do I stretch some more out here?
“Okay, you can have a seat in the waiting area until she gets here or look around the shop. Let us know if you have any questions.”
On each side of the walls that surround us, T-shirts hang in rows at the top, some plain and others with sayings like 'Yoga. Coffee. Naps.’ Another says, ‘Yoga’ in large cursive and on the bottom in small, capitalized letters, ‘BECAUSE PUNCHING PEOPLE IS FROWNED UPON.’
That has Riley's name written all over it. On the bottom of the shirts are wooden shelves with neatly folded yoga pants and shorts. A wired bin props up rolled yoga mats in assorted colors next to a large wooden table filled with more yoga clothes, and a small basket filled with socks.
A minute later, the door creaks open, and Riley appears. Her short hair is pushed behind her ears, and she wears tight maroon yoga leggings, a simple white ribbed tank top that clings to her, and a fuzzy zip-up coat.
It's hard for me to look away when everything she's wearing looks painted on. The leggings show off her sculpted ass that is so tight and round that I want to take a bite out of it like a Honey Crisp apple.
Riley takes off her coat and hangs it on one of the hooks on the wall leading to the employee room to the right of the desk. She walks toward me and cocks her head, hands on her hips, shoes gone, showing off black ankle socks. "I'm surprised you're here."
I stand up, grab my pink yoga mat, and flash an excited grin. "I'm ready to do some bending."
“Oh, I’m gonna bend you nice and good.” The look in her eyes is something out of a horror movie. “This is gonna be fun!”
I'm bent down with my ass up in the air, dripping in sweat. Riley forgot to mention that this class is hot yoga, not regular yoga. I know she did this on purpose. She chose a class she knew would consist of being in a sauna, that will probably kill me.
I'm going to need to ring out this mat when I'm done with it. So much sweat has accumulated on it. My glasses continue to slide down my face while I try to push them up with my arm.
"Now twist your body to the side, keeping one hand on the mat, and raise your other arm up above you,” Riley says. “Make sure to breathe in through your core and slowly out of your mouth."
My entire body shakes when I try to keep my balance on one hand while lifting the other toward the ceiling. A drop of sweat drips off my eyebrow and into my eye. I lower my hand that's in the air to wipe it away, my other arm holding me up as I wiggle. My core tightens.
"How's it going?" Riley squats down, her skin glistens like a beautiful angel. Unlike mine.
I let a breath out from my mouth. "If I..." Breathe in, breathe out. "Talk..." My eyes—which I'm sure are giving away how I feel—meet hers. I grit my teeth, and my eyes squeeze shut. I open them back up, and she has a grin on her stunning face.
"Only forty minutes to go," she whispers.
My brows pinch together, and my eyes widen in horror. "What?" I cry out.
I'm going to die—this is how it ends—in hell while I stretch my body in ways that should be illegal. At this point, I don't care if she wins. I want to fall onto this mat, cry out for my mom, and tell her that Riley is bullying me.
Here I was, thinking I would be lying on my back or doing some stretching that would have me touching my toes, not bend like a fucking contortionist. I run and lift weights, so this should have come easily to me. Apparently, it's not when I need to balance two hundred pounds of muscle.
I follow Riley's directions and change pose after pose. Everyone around me has a stupid, peaceful expression, even a smile, and I want to ask them who hurt them. How do they enjoy such misery?
This is what I've resorted to. I wanted to get close to her again, get to where we once were. I would have done anything, but this may be pushing my limits.
Nope. No, do not think like that. You've been doing well so far, so you're going to push through the last ten minutes of this class, and Riley will compliment your ass.
"Alright, everyone, we are going to go into a forearm stand.” Riley’s voice is calm and enduring.
I sit up on my knees, lifting my shirt to wipe off the sweat and tears that cover my face and soak my shirt.
When I peer around to see what this forearm stand is, I laugh to myself and look up at the ceiling in disbelief.
Everyone places their forearms on their mats while lifting the lower part of their bodies into the air.
"Not happening," I mutter to myself, shaking my head.
I stand up on shaky legs, grabbing my mat to roll it up. Riley stops walking through the rows of people and looks at me. She catches up to me when I reach the door. I can feel the cold through the sliver of the door when I open it, and I feel my soul come back into my body.
"August," Riley whispers behind me. "Where are you going?"
I turn to her and try to not fall on my knees. Her eyes are soft and warm, comforting and concerned.
"You win the bet. This is much harder than I thought. I also didn't know I would be stepping into the pits of hell and melt into a puddle." I point to my glasses. "I also couldn't see majority of the time with all the sweat and steam on the lens."
"I thought I told you it was going to be hot yoga today?” She taps her finger on her lips.
"You absolutely did not tell me that." I hold up a finger. "You would have been responsible for my death."
She covers her mouth and shakes her head. Her shoulders bob once, and a little snort comes out from her nose. "I promise I wasn't trying to kill you."
"Then why is this so funny to you?"
Her eyes lift to the top of my head and then back down. "Your hair."
My hand reaches for it.
"You look like Ace Ventura when he had the tutu on." Her lips curl in her mouth, holding in another laugh.
I narrow my gaze at her.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." She places her hand on my arm apologetically.
A shiver runs down my spine, almost electric, when she touches me. Willingly, might I add. The warmth of her touch disappears, and she takes one step back before clearing her throat.
“Well, I guess I won.”
“Yeah, you did.” My voice is barely a whisper while my mind plays on a loop of her hand on me. Such a simple act from her drives me crazy. “How are you gonna cash in your winnings?”
She taps on his chin, thinking. “I’m not sure yet. You’ll have to get back to me on that.”
“At least make it interesting.”
“What do you suggest?”
I shrug, forcing myself to act nonchalant. “I could take you out to an expensive restaurant."
“Expensive?” She huffs out a laugh. “Expensive to you is the hot dog place next to The Salty Dog.”
When I look behind Riley, I notice everyone still balancing on their arms and heads. I shake my head and look at her.
“And I’d buy every hot dog they have if it makes you happy.”
She presses her lips into a line before rolling them. “Fine. We’ll go get hot dogs. Now, if you don’t mind, I can’t have these people upside down for much longer.”
“They’re the ones that like to torture themselves.”
“Get out of here.” She gives me a playful shove out the door, but I get the last word.
“I’ll text you about our date.”
Riley turns around with her mouth gaping and eyes wide. Before she can change her mind or say it’s not a date, I run to the lobby.
While I attempt to work on the budget for the shop, I can’t stop thinking about the look on Riley’s face when I mentioned the word ‘date’ the other day at yoga. I know I could have stayed for whatever sassy remark she was going to make, but that wouldn’t be any fun.
Beau decided to join me because he's ‘bored,’ but I know it's because the guys are taking shifts to make sure I'm alright. I should be grateful to have friends like this, but when they make me feel like I need to be babysat, it gets annoying.
After yoga, I went back to the store to work, and James was with me. He helped organize everything into neat piles and labeled them from most important to least important. The system worked until it didn’t when I switched to the least important documents. Then I started switching between the two.
"Brought some lunch," Beau says.
I've been here since the ass crack of dawn and haven't eaten anything. The only thing I have in my stomach is three cups of coffee and an ulcer. It’s Monday, and the store is closed, which I’m thankful for, so I thought I’d get some peace and quiet.
I was wrong.
"There's a double bacon cheeseburger in there for you.” Beau drops the greasy bag on my desk before he sits on the couch across from me and goes to town on his double patty cheeseburger.
"Did you get me the greasiest item on the menu?" I ask.
Beau takes a bite of his burger; a bit of ketchup sticks to the corner of his mouth. "I got you a lettuce wrap instead of a bun," he says through a mouthful.