Page 61 of Flirting with 40

He bites back a smile and shifts so he can hold his hands up. “Accidents happen.”

“I was joking.”

“Partially,” he says through a laugh. “How about this? You put your suit on and Horrible Heather is saved from her mascara streak demise.”

“What’s in it for you?” I ask.

“For one, I’ll have something to concentrate on while trying not to lose my balance and fall off the paddleboard.” He lifts his eyebrows and lets his eyes roam down my body.

“And two?”

“And two, we’re trying to find Blakely again.” He points to the napkin on the nightstand and continues, “Not caring what people think is part of that.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You act like you’re surprised.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Blakely

I put the damn suit on.

Not because he told me to but because he was right. If I’m going to be wearing lacy boy panties, then I sure as hell should be able to wear my bathing suit.

It isn’t anything revealing, by any means, and I have to admit that I don’t feel as insecure as I thought I would.

My coworkers have imperfections just as I do. Now I need to work at seeing myself as just as beautiful as I see them.

“It’s all about balance and finding your chi,” Heather reiterates, continuing what sounds like lines she found in Namaste Magazine or whatever yogis read. “Inner peace exists if you look for it.”

If I thought Horrible Heather was self-righteous before, I was wrong. She’s reaching for new levels right now. Though, I shouldn’t have been shocked when she anointed herself as the instructor.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for yoga. I’ve taken classes before, I’ve become mindful, and I’ve released the negativity. But relaxing is not exactly something I want to do with my boss who was a catty bitch an hour ago.

Also? She’s suggesting we do poses that are far from beginner. She’s either setting us all up to fail so she looks awesome or is so wrapped up in herself she hasn’t thought otherwise.

As it is, four of the significant others skipped out on this bonding experience. I’m sure Slade was wishing he was one of them.

“Hold these poses as if they are prayers. Worship your body as if it’s a temple.”

Don’t look at Slade.

Don’t look at him.

I bite the inside of my cheek as I struggle not to laugh. Heather calls for another pose, and of course, I have no idea what she’s talking about, so when I look up to see what I’m supposed to do, her eyes are laser focused on me.

I bite down so hard it hurts.

“We should be focusing on our inner light and not laughing at our inner-selves in this moment.”

Jesus. Really?

“It’s obvious that some of us are struggling with finding the maturity it takes to do this activity.”

“Sorry,” Slade says as he almost loses his balance. “This isn’t the easiest thing to do for a guy who’s never done it before.”

“Would you like me to paddle over and try to help you pose?” she asks, turning on the charm. I get the glare, and he gets the offer. Figures.