I unrolled my yoga mat and started a series of poses that I'd learned a couple years ago when the local gym held classes. The teacher had since moved on, but I found that I was a lot less stressed and it eased the minor aches and pains I experienced from being on my feet for so long each day so I tried to practice at least twice a week.
I was just finishing up when Sierra stuck her head out of the back door. "I'm gonna lie down for a couple of hours now. Don't forget to wake me up in a few hours."
I settled on the mat with my legs crossed. "How about I tell Mom that you were up late for work and that you'll come with me next time?"
"You'd do that for me?" she asked.
"Of course."
"You are a goddess. A gift! Okay, I'm going to bed before I fall asleep standing up. I'll be sure to be at the shop by two."
"I can—"
"Zip it. You're taking today off. No arguments." She pointed her finger at me with a stern expression on her face. It would have been a lot more effective if she didn't nearly fall over when she shook it at me.
"Yes'm," I agreed. "Now, go to bed."
Sierra gave me a thumbs-up and disappeared back inside.
I stretched out on my back and closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing.
As soon as I relaxed, my brain immediately veered toward Brody. Last night had been a lot of fun. It was all of my high school daydreams come true. He still teased me, but it was fun and light-hearted rather than painful. He also insisted on opening the car door for me, paying for the movie and snacks, and he actually touched me several times. Mostly by putting a hand on the small of my back when we were walking somewhere or on my arm when he wanted my attention.
Yeah, I knew exactly how I sounded. Like my fifteen-year-old self. I probably should have been ashamed, but I was in too good of a mood.
And I would get to see him again today.
I kept my eyes closed and smiled. Maybe this wasn't the fairytale relationship I'd daydreamed about as a teenage girl, but it was still nice. Even when Brody got on my last nerve or hurt my feelings, I would watch him laugh and joke with my brother and the rest of my family and wish he treated me that way.
Now, I had what I wanted. In a different way.
I inhaled, slow and deep, and held my breath for just a moment.
Then I exhaled.
* * *
Three hours later,I stood in front of my closet with my hands on my hips. While my brain understood that Brody was a friend and nothing more, my vanity insisted that I still look hot for Sunday lunch with my family.
I glanced down at my bra and panties, both utilitarian cotton and flesh-toned, and rolled my eyes. I'd managed to talk myself out of the push-up bra Sierra bought me for Christmas one year. The one advertised to add an extra cup size to any woman's bust.
Same for the halter top I'd bought on a whim one summer because said push-up bra made my modest B-cup look more like a D when I wore it.
I needed help. My eyes darted over to the clock on my nightstand and I sighed. I couldn't bring myself to wake Sierra up for advice when she still had a few more hours before she had to wake up and go to the shop.
I was on my own.
Feeling utterly ridiculous, I ignored the tortured moans of my vanity and grabbed a light blue t-shirt that I favored when I wanted to be comfortable and cool and a pair of cut-offs that made my butt look fantastic. They were also soft and broken in so I could pretend that was the reason I picked them.
I scowled at my reflection in the mirror. Why was I agonizing over my outfit? I hadn't been this bad since I was thirteen and I knew that Brody was coming over to spend the night with J.J.
Enough!
I slipped my feet into a pair of plain black flip flops with a three-inch thick sole and brushed my hair back into a ponytail. I went with the light make-up I usually wore in the summer, which consisted of loose translucent powder, a little blush, mascara, and a generous sweep of peach-flavored lip balm.
I looked exactly like I did nearly every Sunday during the summer. Mom had been aware of my painful crush on Brody when I was a teenager and I didn't want her to think that it was rearing its head once again. Even if it was true.
I emerged from my bedroom and nearly screamed when the guest room door flew open and Sierra stomped out, looking half-asleep and more than a little homicidal. Her hair was also smooshed against one side of her head and standing around three inches high on the other side of her scalp.
