What could I tell them? That my high-school crush came home and my feelings hadn’t changed? They’d laugh me out of their apartment. Even to my own ears I sounded inane, pathetic. No. The best way to solve this Ezra problem was to forget he ever existed and cut him out of my life completely.
But the two of them sat there waiting, and I felt I owed them at least a partial explanation for why I’d busted into their Sunday afternoon, even though I was always told I had a standing invite.
“Honestly? I had a bit of a personal issue, but I think I figured out how to deal with it. And I’m not so sure Amy is wrong. Lately I’ve felt like I’ve been slogging through the mud, so maybe twisting myself into a pretzel will help unblock me.”
“I know it will.” Glowing, Amy practically bounced off the couch with excitement. “Next week there’s a special yoga class that’s invite-only. All these famous yogis will be there, and my class instructor, Melody, invited me to come. Carmen can’t make it, so you can be my plus-one.”
Sweating and grunting without it culminating in sex didn’t seem like a fun activity, but I needed to do something, somehow, to jump-start my life. And Amy raved about her hot-yoga classes, claimed they rejuvenated and kept her limber. If nothing else, I could always call up Colin and try out some new positions. I was certain he’d be eager.
“Sure. Sounds good. Just tell me where and when.”
“You won’t regret it. I promise.”
I finished my beer, wondering why her words sounded like a prophecy of doom.
* * *
Four days later, I met Amy in front of Life in Balance, a regular yoga studio that also advertised the largest hot-yoga and hot-Pilates classes in New York City.
“Ready to sweat out your troubles?” Amy quipped as we mounted the stairs.
“Is that sort of like washing that man right out of my hair?”
We paused on the landing to catch our breaths. Damn, simply walking up the three flights to the studio was enough of a workout for me. A sign outside the door stated,Please take off your footwear before entering the studio. I toed off my sneakers and placed them under the bench while waiting for Amy to unlace her boots.
“Do you need to? Is there someone you haven’t told us about?”
Having been my friends for years, both Amy and Carmen were well aware of my prolonged single state and had, both with my agreement and without, attempted to change my status totakenwithout much success. There had been Randy from Queens who talked marriage and kids on the first date, Quinn from Hoboken who not only lived with his mother but brought her to dinner to meet me, and Thomas, a man in his fifties who only recently came out and wanted someone younger. Like in his twenties. After that, I decided maybe single was better after all. Colin and our occasional hookups were as much as I could, or wanted, to handle.
Until Ezra burst back into my life.
“No,” I said firmly. “There isn’t anyone in my life right now, except for Colin, and he and I don’t have an exclusive relationship. We see each other when we want, if we want.”
“He’s sweet,” Amy said with the tone usually reserved for petting a new puppy or asking about the health of an elderly great-aunt. “But not your future.”
“Right now my only future is getting sweaty.”
A smile beamed on Amy’s face. “Let’s do it, then.” She hopped off the bench like a sprite and winged her way into the surprisingly large and airy room. She introduced me to the yoga instructor and his wife, who led the class.
“Michel and Fontaine are two of the best instructors. When Melody told me about this special class, I was so excited.”
“Have you taken yoga for many years, Monroe?” Fontaine asked in a low, musical voice. She had that same lean, whip-tight body Amy possessed, but she had to be close to sixty.
“Um, no. I’ve only done it once or twice, but I’m looking to start up again. Hopefully, this will be the resurrection of my yoga practice.”
“We hope so as well. You can take your mats and find your place. We’ll be starting in about five minutes. I’ll be turning up the heat now, so you can remove any extra clothing you want to and grab a water bottle.” With a smile, Michel turned his attention to greet the group of people behind us.
Amy and I chose our mats, and I moved purposefully to the back of the room.
Amy snickered. “Hiding out?”
“You know it.” I rolled out the mat and sat cross-legged, facing the room. “I don’t need people watching me slip and slide and making an ass of myself.”
“You have a cute ass. I bet lots of guys would think so too.” She sat next to me and cracked open her water bottle.
“Shut up.” I ducked my head. “I’m not here to get laid.”
“Too bad,” someone said, and I leaned over to see a man on the other side of Amy. He had long dark hair, a short beard, and glittering gray eyes. Three gold hoops ran around the side of his ear, and several leather bracelets stacked up on both wrists. He flashed a nice set of white teeth in a grin. “Just saying.”
