My tears had stopped at that point. I was mad at myself for thinking he was a decent person, but even madder at him for being a complete wanker, which I told him, giving him a dressing down that meant I ended up being suspended from the club. Genny had found out what happened, hunted me down and offered me a job with Athletic. She was fierce and fearless, taking on a role in what was still a man’s world and not letting anyone tell her what she should be. Along with Neva, who was the bravest person I knew for telling self-centred men what they should eat, we had made up a triumvirate who quietly ruled the backrooms of the stadium.
But I refused to have a crush on Nate Morris.
I pulled off my hoodie and untied my hair that had been loosely pulled into a low ponytail, stuffing it into a quick bun. Even though I wouldn’t be going through the asanas, I’d still sweat profusely in the humidity of the studio, and nothing felt worse than hair dripping down my back. I’d get a chance to practice later on, when Heidi taught a class in the same studio.
I turned around mid bun-tying and saw Nate stride through the door. He gave me a quick smile, heading straight to the benches where he started to strip off his coat, hoodie, T-shirt and then his sweats, leaving him in shorts and nothing else.
I focused on my breath, dropping my gaze to my toes and staring at the chip in the nail polish on one of them. By the time I looked back up, Nate was walking into the studio.
We ended up with fifteen people in the room, which was big enough for twenty people to practice. I pulled my shoulders back and headed to the mat at the front where I’d lead the class from, my water already set out there.
Genny and Neva had been chatting, stopping their conversation when I got to my spot. Other people went from lying down to sitting up, some looking slightly nervous, other seemingly in their element.
“Good morning.” I made my voice calming but bright, managing a smile although a few nerves had hit me. “Welcome to your hot practice this morning. We have a few people for whom this is their first class. Raise your hand so I can see where you are.”
Seven people put their hands up. Nate was on the second row, to the right of me. He didn’t raise his hand as he’d done at least two hot yoga classes before, but I knew those had been a year or more ago, so he was just as likely to react to the heat as the newbies.
“Thank you. You’ve completed the biggest challenge already by just coming here this morning. The next biggest challenge is to stay in the room for the duration.” I went through the instructions; no water until after the warm-up series, and then just sips; sit down whenever needed, or lie down facing the back of the room. We did each posture twice, apart from the twist at the end, although as I told the class, it was absolutely fine to sit out postures, or just join in with one attempt at each.
This, however, was a room full of competitive sport people, which meant there was almost no chance of any of them sitting down at any time, although Jesse and Jude were already dripping with sweat.
I assumed Nate was as well, only I was purposely not looking over at him.
“We begin with a breathing exercise which will prepare us for our practice, opening up the lungs and helping us to take in as much oxygen as possible– ” The language was scripted to a point, although like in the classes I attended, there were modifications to make it more accessible and enjoyable for those practicing. By the end of the first round of pranayama breathing, my nerves had disappeared, as long as I didn’t look towards our first team’s first choice goalkeeper.
Within those abs lay the madness.
Ninety minutes later and my class were lying on their backs in Savasana. Jude had died halfway through, drowning in a pool of his own sweat. One of the coaches had spent all of the spine strengthening series asleep, and Kim from the women’s team had almost passed out. Everyone else had survived, although Jesse’s balance – or lack of it – was concerning. He’d fallen over while in tree pose and knocked straight into Jude. I had a feeling he wasn’t going to be living that down any time soon.
“Well done, everyone. Have a great Sunday.” I made my way to the door first, needing to get out of there before I found myself staring at Nate’s chest. I’d managed to avoid looking at him for almost the entire class, checking his form only when I was sure that something needed correcting, or I knew he was going to try to overextend himself in the name of competition. His shoulders were so tight he hadn’t been able to even cross his arms over when trying eagle pose in the warm up, which told me he’d really been skipping stretching.
I could save my advice for the next time he visited my treatment room, or pass that nugget of an observation onto The Count to administer a bollocking via text, which would be safest.
“Good class.” Nate’s voice seeped into the air from behind. “Told me exactly how much I needed to stretch.”
I stopped as I got to the end of the corridor from the studio into the small changing room. There were bigger changing rooms across the main corridor, which had showers and baths, too.
“You do. Try to get to a couple of these a week and it will really help. The Count can update your programme too.” I pulled my robe from one of the pegs and pulled it on, hoping that Nate did the same, ending any chance of a conversation with making myself busy.
“Are you still okay to squeeze me in this morning. My shoulder– ”
When I looked at him, he was trying to move his shoulder in circles, the movement stiff and uncomfortable.
It was Sunday. I worked Sundays. This was part of my job, especially because The Count was drowning in nappies and dribble from his new-born son.
“Of course.” I gave him what I thought was a beaming smile. “But after you’ve showered. And I have too.” Because no one wanted a sweaty massage, unless the sweat was being earned through different means.
“Thank you. I know we don’t have a game until Saturday, but I’d rather get on top of this before it becomes anything more.” His expression was genuinely grateful. “The Count gave me some exercises to do, but I’ve lost the sheet.” He frowned, which told me he probably didn’t do the exercises that had been prescribed.
I raised my brows and gave him a look that should’ve come from a headmistress. “I will tell him when he’s back that you’ve not been following orders.”
Nate’s smile was wry. “I’d rather you didn’t. He has ways of making us pay.”
I knew that those ways often included ice baths and cupping, neither of which were hugely pleasant. Cupping was used to stimulate blood supply, basically by using a cup to suck your skin, like a love-bite, in some ways, but not as pleasurable to receive.
The quietness in the changing area was smashed with the sound of Jesse and Jude coming through, Jude moaning loudly about never having been so hot.
I watched Neva and Genny following them, both somehow managing to look fresh and both looking at Jude with concern.
