He looks around at others as he lowers himself to his knees. When his butt hits the mat and he attempts to mimic the cross-legged position that most of his neighbors are in, it’simmediately obvious that it’s not going to work. All of those thick muscles are in serious need of a good stretch.
CHAPTER 2
MILES
Ifucking hate yoga.
This is my first time doing it, and I already know I fucking hate it. So far, class has consisted of hunching over in an uncomfortably cramped position, with foam blocks wedged under my knees as if I’m a car getting my tire changed. Oh, and breathing. Lots of breathing. How does this qualify as exercise?
But I’ve been told I need to be more flexible. And even though my critics are referring to my personality and not my body, I decided to give yoga a try.
I may be rigid, but I’m all about personal improvement. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, yada yada yada.
I’m far from convinced that yoga’s going to be helpful in any way, but I can’t regret coming to this instructor’s class. The girl is hot, and those skin-tight pants make it impossible to stop checking out her ass.
But her big, beautiful brown eyes are also pretty appealing, and the tanned skin beneath her tight crop top makes me wonderhow she would taste if I were to run my tongue over that particular area.
“Exhale…” She draws the word out in what most people would take as a soothing tone. Myself, I’m imagining making her moan in that same sexy voice and then hearing her cry out my name.
Fuck.It’s been too long since I’ve been with a woman. I should have rubbed one out in the shower this morning, because yoga’s not working out the pent-up energy like actual exercise does.
“Good.” The instructor effortlessly and gracefully rises from her seated position. “When you’re ready, come to standing at the top of your mat.”
After yanking the blocks out of my way, I kneel and then stand, eyeing my immediate neighbor to verify the directions.
“Inhale. Fingers stretching to the sky. Exhale. Fold forward. Touch your toes if you can. Good. Take a few breaths here. Let everything go.”
I do as instructed, but my toes are a distant dream. As out of reach as the clouds in the sky. Another glance to the side confirms my lack of flexibility. The woman next to me has her fingers wrapped around her toes, her body folded in half like a piece of paper. Show-off.
“Soften your knees. It’s okay if you don’t touch your toes. Just feel that good stretch in your hamstrings.” The instructor’s voice is closer now, and a moment later, her legs pass by my line of vision as she moves around the room.
Her words were apparently directed at me, and I lean further forward, trying again, unsuccessfully, to make contact.
“Just breathe. Relax your shoulders. Let your head hang freely.”
Once I give up the goal of reaching my toes, I notice that the stretch does feel good. I probably don’t devote enough time to stretching after my workouts.
“One more breath. A big exhale, then inhale, halfway up.”
The woman next to me rises into a position that’s basically where I’ve been stuck for the last minute.
“Exhale. Step or jump back into plank position.”
Great! This one I can do and do well. The instructor continues talking, detailing the proper alignment of various body parts, and I’m confident I nailed this one.
“Lower into Chaturanga. Inhale. Upward-facing dog.”
I take a quick look to my right to copy from my neighbor, because the hot teacher is no longer making sense.
“Exhale. Roll over your toes. Downward-facing dog. Good. Let’s settle in here for a bit.”
We’d been sitting still breathing for so long at the beginning of class, and now we’re making abrupt shifts into positions my body has never been in before. I have heard of a downward dog, though, and I again mimic my neighbor to make sure I’m doing it right.
The instructor wanders by, detailing more instructions for fine tuning the pose. She stops when she’s beside me. Her toenails, the part of her I can see the best in this position, are painted a glossy pale pink that reminds me of the inside of a shell I found on the beach yesterday.
“Do you have any past injuries, problem areas, or things that limit your range of movement?” she asks, her voice low now, just for me.
What kind of casual insult is that?
