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“Wow,” she says, with only the faintest tremor in her voice, “I didn’t know you were bringing your entire family today.”

I beam at her, pride and something uncomfortably close to worship swelling in my chest. “They decided they wanted to check out your classes.”

Hudson is the first to approach. “Yoga has made such a change in this idiot, I decided I couldn’t live another moment without giving it a shot.” He holds out his hand to Star. “I’m Hudson, the good-looking brother.”

Star laughs as she shakes his hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Cole steps up, flashing his million-dollar smile and a practiced, “Hey, I’m Cole. The fun one.”

Star laughs, and it’s genuine—light and pretty and not a hint of nerves. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Maggie drags Silas over. “This is my twin brother, Silas,” she tells Star.

“The real good-looking brother,” Silas adds, smirking, and shakes Star’s hand.

Next is Todd, who towers over everyone but walks like he’s afraid of breaking something. He shakes her hand like he’s holding a baby bird. “Todd Sharp. Pleasure to meet you,” he says, and his voice is calm, which is new. I’m used to hearing him scream expletives at offensive linemen, not mumble around pretty women.

Flint is last, boots and all. He tips an imaginary hat and says, “Ma’am,” then gives her a dead-serious stare. “I can’t believe you would give this ugly asshole the time of day.”

Star giggles as I make plans to kick Flint’s ass. “What can I say? He grew on me.”

“Like a fungus,” Silas mutters, then whispers under his breath to Flint, “I can’t believe my dumbass brother managed to tame this free-spirited goddess. What’s next in this insane world? Cats and dogs living in harmony?”

“I know,” Flint agrees. “Craziness is in the air.” I flip both of the fuckers off behind my back.

A few other women walk in and appear a little shocked to find the entire Carrington clan preparing for the class.

Once everyone’s settled, Star claps her hands for attention. “All right, everyone. If this is your first yoga class, just focus on breathing and don’t take it too seriously. If you’re a regular,”—she winks at me—“let’s welcome our new friends.”

We head to our mats, spaced out in two neat rows. I end up right in front, between Cole and Flint, with Todd, Silas, and Hudson in the back row, probably so they can blend into the background.

We start slow, with some deep breathing and “easy” stretches. I slide right into position, letting the muscle memory of weeks of private sessions take over. But when I glance to the side, Cole’s already grunting and rolling his shoulders. On my other side, Flint is sitting cross-legged, arms folded, looking like he’d rather be just about anywhere else right now.

I glance back at Hudson, who’s trying his best not to make a fool out of himself. Todd, meanwhile, is gamely following along, but his massive body just isn’t cooperating.

Star starts a flow, and the family falls apart instantly. While she’s giving clear instructions, they’re failing miserably at following her directions.

She moves among us, correcting postures with gentle, encouraging touches. I watch her like a hawk, making sure no one gets more than the strictly necessary amount of physical contact. When she rests her hand on Cole’s lower back, he smirks and winks at me. I mouth, “I will kill you,” but he just grins wider.

Halfway through, Star cues us into Warrior Two. I go deep into the bend, stretching my arms out perfectly parallel, and catch her watching me in the mirror. There’s a spark in her eyes, a silent “well done” that makes my chest puff out just a little more.

Cole is wobbling, his front knee barely bent, but he’s trying to look smooth. Hudson’s warrior pose is military-level rigid, which is technically correct but looks hilarious in the context of yoga. Todd’s trembling, sweat already pouring down his forehead. Flint looks like he’s signaling airplanes. I almost lose my balance from laughing.

Star smothers a smile, then moves to adjust Todd, easing his stance with a soft, “You’re doing great.” Todd blushes so hard. The room is thick with effort and the sound of masculine pride being slowly dismantled.

We run through the sequence two more times. By the end, Cole’s shirt is plastered to his back, Hudson is actually breathing hard, and Todd’s about to pass out. Flint just sprawls on his mat, arms behind his head, boots crossed, like he’s taking a break at a rodeo.

I’ve never been prouder of my ability to touch my toes.

Star brings us down for the cool down, and as we settle onto our backs, the room goes silent except for the hiss of the A/C and the occasional wheeze from my brothers. She dims the lights and tells us to “Let go of tension and relax completely.” For the first time all morning, I feel myself start to unclench. The nerves, the pressure, the knowledge that in two minutes I’m going to ask the most important question of my life—all of it blurs out to nothing as I watch Star walk quietly between the mats, her bare feet whispering over the wood floor.

After a minute, she asks everyone to sit up slowly. “Keep your eyes closed and your mind clear.” I do, but my heart’s pounding so loud it’s the only thing I hear.

“Class is over,” she says, “but you’re welcome to linger on your mats if you need a little extra zen.”

Perfect cue.

This is it.