“To the yoga studio.”
It triggers a memory from bonfire night when I met her. I was jacked up on painkillers and the doc had prescribed bed rest due to the recently sprained ankle, but I hobbled out of bed anyway and slipped from my room, like a teenager sneaking out to a frat party. Aside from having a perfectly round ass and silky smooth hair, Kayla is a vegan and teaches yoga.
“You’re the new yoga instructor.”
Which should have been obvious considering she’s carrying a bunch of yoga mats, but the proximity of her has vastly lowered my ability to notice anything else, apart from the details of her. She has a dusting of freckles on her nose, smells like a spice I can’t name, and her waist is the perfect size for my arm to fit snugly around it.
Suddenly I want to do that yoga class very much. Sign me the fuck up.
“I’m taking your class. It’s part of my rehabilitation program.”
“Great.” I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or if she means it. “But it won’t rehabilitate you from being an asshole.”
Sarcastic then. A grin spreads across my face. Kayla has a bite to her; this is going to be fun.
2
KAYLA
Sandalwood oil burners can’t mask the new paint smell in the yoga studio. I’ve had the windows open all day, and now the room is cooler than is optimal for a class; it doesn’t smell relaxing like I want it to, and it’s almost two o’clock and there’s no one here.
This is a disaster,the inner voice whispers, and instead of listening to it, I take a deep breath and center myself. I can’t control the paint smell, the air temperature, or whether anyone comes to the class, so why worry about it?
Because I want this class to be a success.
My inner voice nudges me, and I tell it to pipe down. I focus on my breathing, something I can control, and release the negative thoughts.
When Joel offered me the job, he told me it wouldn’t be the kind of clientele I was used to, and they might resist coming to class. The yoga studio in Charlotte, where I taught before, was always booked out. Mostly women and some men, but they all wanted to be there.
This is different. Savanna pushed for yoga to be incorporated into recovery plans for veterans, and it’s not just about the stretching. The deep breathing and meditation that come withit can help to steady fractured minds. When I saw the job, I jumped at the chance to help veterans. The pay is less than the city studio, and I’ve had to relocate, but I want to give something back to those who served. I want my life to be meaningful, and this is something I can do to help others.
But as I stare at the empty yoga studio, I wonder if I’ve made a huge mistake.
It’s just first-day nerves, I tell myself. They will come.
The wind rustles the trees outside, and I close my eyes and count as I breathe, trying to ground myself. My thoughts stray to this morning and the encounter with Jace. I’ve never met a more arrogant man. First, he bowls into me, and then he has the audacity to say it was me pushing him up against the wall.
His arm around my waist, the scent of the lavender analgesic cream that Savanna uses, the tickle of his breath on my cheek.
My breathing gets shallow and my body heats up, and I lose control of my hard-won equilibrium. There’s no denying my attraction to the cocky veteran, and it’s a dangerous kind of attraction, the kind that threatens everything I’ve worked so hard to control.
“Nice to see you again, sweetheart.”
My eyes fly open, and Jace stands before me as if I conjured him with my thoughts. He’s smirking down at me, and it makes his blue eyes sparkle. His hair is disheveled, and there’s stubble on his jaw, wild and uneven like he hasn’t looked in a mirror for days. I guess you don’t need to check a mirror when you look so damn handsome naturally.
“Choose any mat you like.” I ignore his smirk and my racing heart.
He takes a mat in the front row, and if he’s the only person in the class, this is going to be hard to get through.
Luckily, a woman arrives and two more men, and by the time two o’clock rolls around, I have a class of five people.
I’m about to start when Savanna sneaks in with a reassuring smile. I’ve only been in town for a week, and she’s made me feel welcome. I appreciate her support today.
I start the class with simple movements and leave out the breathwork for now. All the while, I’m aware of Jace in my periphery. His gaze is on me as I demonstrate the moves, and it makes me hot and flustered.
I move onto standing poses, and when they’re in the warrior, I move around the class, adjusting each person into the correct pose. When I get to Jace, his hips are facing to the side instead of to the front, which means he’s not getting the full benefit of the stretch.
“Do you mind if I touch you?”
