9 | Third Weekend Hot yoga

The texts started on Monday.

Not about the arrangement. Not about Charles or the next weekend or any of the things we were supposed to be coordinating. Just... talking.

Theo: A client just asked me if bonds are like stocks but calmer. I need you to know that I kept a straight face.

Me: That’s basically what they are though.

Theo: I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.

Tuesday, I sent him a photo of a golden retriever who’d fallen asleep in my lap during an exam.

Theo: That dog has the right idea.

Me: Rough day?

Theo: Spreadsheets. So many spreadsheets.

Me: Come cuddle a puppy. It fixes everything.

Theo: Don’t tempt me.

Since then, we’d just been… talking. Photos, short messages, stupid thoughts sent throughout the day—until I couldn’t even tell where the conversation started or ended.

And it felt… easy.

Too easy.

----

Saturday morning arrived with rain.

I stood at my window watching water streak down the glass, already regretting this plan.

The gym. Where Charles had shown up every Saturday for the past month like clockwork, always managing to be there at exactly the same time as me even though he never went with me when we were together.

My phone buzzed.

Theo: Outside. Ready?

I grabbed my bag, water bottle, change of clothes—and headed downstairs.

The car was running. Theo was in the driver’s seat wearing athletic gear I’d never seen him in before: gray joggers and a black compression shirt, his hair still slightly damp like he’d just showered.

I got in.

“Morning,” he said with a smile.

“Morning.” I looked him over.

He pulled away from the curb. The rain was steady but light, the kind that made everything look softer. “So what’s the plan? What are we walking into?”

“My Saturday class is yoga.”

“Yoga.”

“Problem?”

“No. I just want it noted that I’m agreeing to yoga. In public. For you.”

“Noted. And after that I’ll let you drag me to whatever testosterone-fueled thing you usually do.”

“CrossFit.”

“Oh god. Fine. But on one condition—we test if you can do a push-up with me on your back this time.”

He exhaled through his nose. “Don’t remind me.”

My gaze dipped before I could stop it—his forearms flexing on the wheel, the fabric of his shirt pulling tight across his shoulders when he shifted.

Heat flickered low in my stomach, sharp enough to make me shift in my seat.

I turned back to the window.

“What? You’re in much better shape now. I think you can actually do it.”

A beat.

“That’s a generous way of saying I don’t have spaghetti arms anymore.”

“Take the compliment, Theo.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

The gym was busy for a Saturday morning—a spinning class letting out, people clustered around the smoothie bar, the familiar smell of sweat and cleaning solution and overpriced protein powder.

I signed Theo in as my guest, and the girl at the desk looked him over with quick appreciation before looking back at me—different now.

“Enjoy your workout,” she said.

We headed toward the yoga studio. My usual Saturday class started in ten minutes.

Charles was by the weight rack, talking to someone but positioned so he had a clear view of the entrance—of me. His eyes tracked over to us and landed on Theo, and something crossed his face that I didn’t have a name for.

“He sees us,” Theo said quietly.

“Good.”

We kept walking.

The yoga studio was already filling up when we got there. I grabbed two mats from the stack and found spots near the back. Theo unrolled his with the careful precision of someone who’d done this before but wasn’t entirely comfortable with it.

People filtered in—the usual Saturday crowd, mostly women, a few guys who looked like they’d been dragged here by girlfriends, one older man who could bend himself into shapes that defied physics.

And then the instructor walked in.

She was tall and blonde, fit in that way that suggested yoga was only part of her routine, sports bra and tight leggings that left very little to the imagination.

“Good morning, everyone.” Her voice was smooth, practiced. “I see we have some new faces today.”

Her eyes landed on Theo. Lingered.

“Welcome,” she said, smiling. “I’m Jade.”

“Theo,” he said politely.

“Well, Theo.” She walked over and positioned herself right in front of our mats. “Don’t worry if you can’t keep up. I’ll make sure to give you some extra attention.”

Something hot coiled behind my ribs.

I looked over at Theo. He was already looking at me, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Is she serious? His expression said.

I bit back a smile.

The class started easy—basic stretches, sun salutations, nothing too complicated. But Jade kept circling back to our corner of the room.

“Let me help you with that,” she said, crouching beside Theo during downward dog, her hands going to his hips to adjust his position. “You want to really push back here. Feel the stretch through your whole body.”

Her hands stayed on him longer than necessary.

I stared straight ahead, breath uneven, trying to convince myself I didn’t care about the way her hands moved over him.

“Good,” she murmured. “Just like that.”

Theo caught my eye over his shoulder. There was something in his expression—amusement, maybe, or apology.

I looked away.

By the time we got to balance poses, I was wound tight. Jade had found reasons to touch him four more times—adjusting his stance, correcting his form, putting her hands on his arms and his back and his shoulders like she was doing him a favor.

And Theo, to his credit, looked increasingly uncomfortable with every adjustment.

But it didn’t help.

“Tree pose,” Jade called out. “Find your center.”

I lifted my leg and found my balance. Jade walked past me without a glance and stopped beside Theo, her hand going to his waist.

“Here,” she said. “Let me stabilize you.”

I wobbled. Caught myself.

Class ended twenty minutes later. People started rolling up their mats, chatting, heading for the showers, and Jade lingered near the front demonstrating some advanced pose to a small group of dedicated students.

I looked over at Theo. He was standing there with his mat half-rolled, looking slightly lost in a way that gave me an idea.

Terrible, impulsive, perfect idea.

I walked over.

“Hey,” I said, pitching my voice light and helpful. “Do you need help rolling that up?”

“I think I can manage—”

I stepped closer and put my hands over his on the mat, leaning in—closer than necessary.

“Here,” I said, mimicking Jade’s breathy tone. “You want to really push down here. Feel the compression through your whole body.”

Theo went still.

“Tessa—”

“And make sure your alignment is right.” I moved my hands to his shoulders, exactly the way Jade had during warrior pose. “You want everything to be… perfectly positioned.”

His jaw tightened hard enough to show. “That’s not funny.”

“Really?” I smiled up at him. “Because you seemed to be having a great time during class. All that personal attention.”

“I was being polite.”

“And I’m helpful.”

My hands slid down his arms. Slowly.

His muscles tensed under my fingers.

“Tessa.” His voice had dropped lower. “Stop.”

“Why?” I stepped closer, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to look at him. “I’m just trying to help with your form. Like Jade was.”

“That’s not what you’re doing.”

“No?” My hands went to his waist and settled there, light and teasing. “Then what am I doing?”

His hands came up and caught my wrists, his grip firm but careful.

“You’re playing a game you don’t want to finish.”

Something hot unfurled in my chest. I looked up at him through my lashes. “What if I do?” I said softly.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Don’t I?”

The air between us changed. Thickened.

Theo’s eyes were dark, his chest rising and falling faster than it should be, his hands still wrapped around my wrists—holding me but not pushing me away.

“Tessa.” His voice was rough, strained, a warning. “I’m serious. You need to stop.”

I tilted my head and leaned in slightly.

His breath caught.

“But you didn’t mind with her. I’m not doing anything more than she was,” I whispered.

His jaw clenched. His eyes dropped to my mouth.

I swayed forward. Just an inch. Just enough to feel his breath.

“Tess?”

I jumped back.

Charles was standing in the doorway, staring at us—at the way Theo’s hands were wrapped around my wrists, at how close we’d been standing, at the tension still crackling between us like static electricity.

My face flooded with heat.

And then I saw it.

The unmistakable bulge in Theo’s joggers.

Oh god.

I looked away quickly. Too quickly.

Charles’s gaze moved between us and took in the way Theo was standing—tense, controlled, like he was barely holding himself together.

“Jesus,” Charles said quietly, his expression shifting. “You two really aren’t faking this, are you?”

Neither of us answered.

Charles laughed—short, bitter. “Fuck. I actually thought—” He stopped. Shook his head. “Whatever. Enjoy your workout.”

He turned and walked out.

For a long moment, neither Theo nor I moved. The yoga studio felt too bright, too quiet.

Theo let go of my wrists and stepped back, putting careful distance between us.

“We should go,” he said. His voice was rough.

“Yeah.”

We gathered our things in silence, walked to the car through the rain, and got in. Theo started the engine but didn’t pull out of the parking spot. We sat there with the rain drumming on the roof, neither of us looking at each other.

“That worked,” I said finally.

“Yeah.”

“He definitely thinks we’re real now.”

“Yeah.”

I risked a glance at him. His hands were tight on the steering wheel, knuckles pale.

“Theo—”

“Don’t.” He closed his eyes. “Just—don’t.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. I was just messing around and I didn’t think—”

“Tessa.” He turned to look at me, his eyes still dark, still hungry. “You need to understand something. I—” He gestured vaguely between us. “I’m just a man, and—”

My breath caught.

“What?”

“I’m trying very hard to keep this clean. To stick to the deal we made.” He stopped. Exhaled. “When you touch me like that—when you look at me like that, it makes it really fucking difficult to remember that this is supposed to be fake.”

The words hung between us while the rain pounded the windshield.

“Okay,” I said quietly.

He pulled out of the parking spot and drove home in silence, and I sat in the passenger seat watching the rain blur the city into shapes I didn’t recognize.

????

Do you think Tessa went too far—or was Theo’s reaction exactly what we needed to see?

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