As she focused on the low rush of the Kintyre shoreline, Carli concentrated on letting life’s stresses drift out to sea. Sure, they might sweep in again, but with each exhale off they went, each time washing back in more diluted than the last.
The sound of ragged, heavy breathing and a familiar male voice filtered into the space.
‘Hey, so sorry, I’m late.’
Carli opened her eyes to see Niall tumbling down the dunes. She’d assumed he wasn’t coming, that yoga wasn’t adrenaline-fuelled enough for him. But here he was, in navy sweatpants, no less, a snug thermal base layer and flip-flops, his hair tousled from sleep as if he’d just rolled out from under crumpled bedcovers. She’d have trouble rolling out of bed with that next to her.
Don’t.
‘No worries, Niall. Do you have a mat?’
‘I brought a towel. That works, right?’
‘Sure, that’s great. We’re doing some gentle breathing right now and using the waves to buffer our practice.’
‘Okey dokey.’ Niall sounded willing but blindly compliant rather than someone who had the faintest clue what she was talking about.
‘Close your eyes and concentrate on your breath: in for six, hold for four, out for six.’ Carli explained again, finding her way back to the rhythm she’d been in, like a mermaid going from shore to home, flipping her fin until she was fully at one with the waters once more.
When she opened her eyes to address the group, Niall was standing at the back of the group on his towel, staring out to sea, a vacant expression on his face. Lost, even. Had he been doing the breathing exercise at all? Her instinct was to go to him, but she had to suppress it. Be professional. Niall could join in or not. That was up to him.
Next, Carli led the group into a sun salutation sequence designed to promote warmth and relaxation. She tried her best to circulate round everyone, adjusting their poses if necessary. Celia, Gertie and Alan held their stance well and only needed a little support. Niall was more of a challenge. There was something blocking him. It was like the physical flexibility was there, but the willingnesswas not. He moved like an Action Man doll that had been sitting in an attic for forty years and needed oiled. Tense, stiff, difficult to work with. And when finally in a pose, he held it with a resistance that Carli could have seen if she’d been watching him from the lighthouse down the coast. The man needed a good massage.
And the rest.
After the sequence and as the group was sitting in lotus position, Carli approached Niall, knelt behind him, placed her hands on his shoulders and gently pressed down. Something she did often in her classes, although never to anyone she found as ridiculously attractive as Niall Butler. Never to anyone whose shoulders sent heat through her merely by being shoulders. There was such strength in them, powerful sinewy muscle beneath the skin, but also a rigidity that she wanted to rid him of.
‘Breathe, Niall.’ Carli crouched down and whispered to the back of his neck, trying not to notice how strong and tanned it was. ‘Breathe. Count in for six, hold for four, then out for six.’ She curved her arm round his front and rested her palm on his stomach, mustering all her make-believe skills to pretend this was any old client. My God, his abs were rock hard. The musculature of that six-pack rippled under her palm.
But he breathed like she instructed.
The man did as he was told.
And as he did, she breathed too. Inhaled him. Became synchronised to Niall Butler again.
‘In – two, three, four…’ Carli kept counting, steadying herself as much as anything.
Then Niall placed his hand over hers.
She stalled, heart hammering.
This was not in the teacher training manual.
‘I’ve got the counting,’ he said, as if the hand were to stop her talking. But he made no attempt to remove it.
It’s a job, it’s a job. Do your job.
Carli directed her focus back to the rise and fall of Niall’s abdomen, as if it might steady her. But something far more powerful took over and emboldened by the silent permission he’d granted, she shuffled a little closer to him. To the heat of him.
Did she imagine it, or did he spread his hand wider, firmer over her own?
Whether he had or had not, their closeness was enough to bring crashing back into Carli’s sentience exactly who this man was. Her first love. Her only true love. With his potent scent of salt and ocean air and a hint of citrus. And he was hot. So hot. To the eye, to the touch. Carli’s nipples tightened. Niall’s abs tensed again.Fuck. Did he sense her arousal? If she drifted lower, what would she find? All she could do was keep breathing, her palm under his, like they were curled into each other naked, heat rising between them. Except they were clothed on a beach with other people and she was very much awake and supposed to be running a group yoga session, not a tantric sex class for one.
After what could have been one minute or one hour, Niall lifted his hand, as if to free her. Carli lingered a little longer on his diaphragm. She was breaking every student–teacher boundary, and if anyone saw in her head she’d be fired on the spot, but letting go was hard. And Niall knew it, she could tell.
Telling herself to get a professional grip, Carli forced her fingers from the magnetic pull of his body and stood up.
‘That’s great, Niall. Keep it up.’ She rubbed her nipples to warm them back to normal before asking the group to open their eyes.
