“Oh, the storm,” Tripp said, like he understood exactly what I was saying without me even needing to say it.
“So, I have the morning free and I thought I'd come and check out the class, watch some yoga stuff, and see you in action,” I finished.
Tripp licked his lips and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I'll show you some action,” he smirked.
“I walked right into that one, didn't I?” I groaned. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, scared that they'd roll right out of my head if I kept doing it every time I saw him.
Tripp let out a joyful laugh and nodded. “Yes, you very much did. Listen, we're glad to have you here at our class, namaste, welcome. But there's no way to see me in action without joining in the action yourself.”
“I'm sorry?” I frowned.
“No spectators. Only participants,” Tripp pursed his lips and looked me over. “You're dressed for it, so grab a mat and get yourself set up.”
“Oh, I can't –” I stammered.
“Yes, you can,” he sang. “Anybody can. Even football coaches.”
“I'm not –” I stumbled, looking around the room as panic welled up inside me.
“Get a mat from the basket. Set up at the back if you're shy,” Tripp called as he walked away and headed back towards the front of the class. “If you need a break, just take a rest in child's pose.”
“What the hell is child's pose?” I grumbled to myself as I looked around for the mats.
I'd just found them and was pulling one out when a loud gong sounded and I almost jumped out of my skin. I dropped the mat and glanced around to apologize when I found that everyone was sitting upright in a meditation pose with their eyes closed. Tripp took a deep, audible breath and let out a shockingly deep groan.
“Ommmmmmm,” he sounded. The vibration rang right through me and I found myself relaxing. I put my mat on the floor and sat down with a heavy thud that was almost louder than the Om.
“Sorry,” I whispered to the girl next to me, but she either didn't hear me or was completely enraptured by the Om-ing, and didn't say a thing to me then or for the rest of the class.
Tripp took us through a “warm-up”. It took all of five minutes before my preconceived notions of yoga were proven to be completely wrong. It wasn't just stretching and breathing – it was a goddamn hardcore workout that pushed every muscle in my body.
“Hold in plank for ten breaths,” he said as he put himself into a push-up position.
At least I knew what plank was. I held it effortlessly for the first
“And let's rest in downward dog,” Tripp cooed. I craned my neck to watch him and I almost fell from my plank as he effortless moved his body into a pyramid shape. His hips shot up high in the air with his ass pushed out.
I hauled my own hips up and felt like my hamstrings were going to snap in half.
“If you can't come into a full downward dog shape,” Tripp said, and I assumed that he was talking to me in particular, “Bend your knees generously... Generously.”
I took the hint and bent my knees. My calf muscles burned. I bent my knees even more generously. My wrists shook. I didn't think I could hold the pose much longer, let along rest in it. Suddenly, two perfectly manicured feet came into vision in front of me, framing my hands with galaxy print Lycra gripping at their ankles. I stopped breathing. My heart was racing.
“Take a deep breath,” Tripp said softly. He leaned over me and took my hips in his hands.
“Seriously, breathe,” he whispered as he tugged up at my hips. I took a deep inhale and let out a ragged, broken exhale as his hand slid down my back, pressing my spine into a straighter line. I’d had no idea that it had been so rounded, and suddenly it felt much easier to hold the pose.
“Good,” he praised me, and I felt a rush of excitement as he gave me a pat on the back.
“Two more breaths,” he said to the class, and I lifted my head to watch his galaxy-printed ass as he walked away from me.
Forty-five minutes later, it was the end of class and I was lying on my back in the appropriately named corpse pose, feeling like I was literally dying. My heart was pounding, sweat was pouring off me onto the mat, and I was still struggling to catch my breath.
“Close your eyes and let everything go... Relax completely into the mat...” Tripp said, his voice taking on a meditative, hypnotic quality. I felt my shoulders let go of so much tension that I shuddered in relief.
“Watch your breath as it naturally moves in to your body... and out,” he crooned, and I fell into a deep, soothing state of relaxation. I heard his steps as he began moving through the group in the far distance of my awareness.
I couldn't tell how much time passed. I was sucked into the world of my inhales and exhales, and everything else seemed to fade away... Until I sensed someone kneeling down behind me. All of a sudden, Tripp's fingers slid into my hair and began massaging my scalp. I would have jumped if I hadn't been so relaxed. A shiver ran up my spine and a surge of arousal shot through me as his fingertips moved down to rub against my neck.
I heard a soft moan and it took me a moment to realize that it was coming from me. I immediately held my breath in embarrassment.
“Just let go,” he whispered.
I felt my wolf lying down in surrender.
I felt my whole body melting under his touch.
And just before he moved onto the next person in the class, I felt my cock twitch and get a little hard... As he moved on, I prayed that he hadn't noticed the bulge growing in my sweats, and thanked the Moon that everyone else would have their eyes shut long enough for me to calm down and go soft again.
Slowly but surely, people began to rise from corpse pose and quietly pack up their mats. I heard soft footsteps and whispered chatter as they made their way out of the yurt. The ambient noise filtered in through my deep relaxation, but I found it so hard to will my eyes to open. I wanted to lie there for the rest of the day.
“Namaste,” the last person whispered to Tripp. The bead curtain rumbled behind them as they left. I took a deep breath and sighed in contentment at the silence that enveloped the yurt.
“Hungry?” I heard Tripp ask somewhere off the distance.
I grunted, but suddenly my stomach let out a loud grumble. Tripp laughed and the sound of it sent a pleasant thrill through my body. I found myself almost smiling.
“I was going to shower here before I met you for lunch, but if you can handle my stink then we can grab something now,” he said.
“Mm, sure,” I mumbled.
I heard his bare feet slapping against the wooden floor as he walked closer. I took a deep breath and willed myself to open my eyes. As I looked up, I found myself met with an incredible view of Tripp's legs, his galaxy-clad crotch, and his smirking face looking down at me. He'd let out his hair and it fell down around his shoulders like a cascade of water. My breath caught in my throat, and I immediately had to sit upright to stop myself from choking. Tripp held out a hand and helped me to stand up.
“Take it easy,” he said, putting a hand on my chest to steady me as I wobbled on my feet.
“That was, uh... I wasn't expecting to feel so spent after that,” I said as I ran my fingers through my hair.
“You did a good job,” he said as he took his hand away and patted me on the shoulder. “C'mon, lover, you need to recharge after that.”
We walked out through Leti's and my stomach rumbled as soon as I smelled the fryer, but we were headed for New Leaf Cafe – it was a small and stupidly expensive place, but it had the best wholefood menu in all of Blackwater. By which I mean, the only wholefood menu. As we walked the few blocks from Tripp's studio, I caught a waft of his musk as he lifted his arms to put on a hoodie. My wolf hungrily sniffed at the air as it had with the incense, and I felt a surge of arousal. I clenched my teeth and pushed it aside. What the hell was going on with me?
By the time we’d walked to the cafe, I had my balance back – almost. Tripp seemed more calm too. Maybe the class had cen
tered him as much as it had me – or maybe he was just looking out for me and keeping his flirty banter to a minimum. Maybe he felt sorry that he'd put me through my paces.
“Two macro bowls, please,” he said to the waitstaff as soon as we walked in.
“Uh, I kind of wanted a burger,” I said.
“Trust me. You'll thank me later,” he said offhandedly, and led me over to a table by the window that looked out onto the street.
“So how did you enjoy observing my class?” he said with a smirk as he poured out a glass of water and handed it to me.
“It was... Relaxing,” I managed to say as I took a sip of water.
Tripp barked out a laugh. “Relaxing?! Honey, that was an advanced class full of out-of-town yogis and yoginis who wanted an infamous fast-paced Vinyasa from yours truly to get that Kundalini rising!”
“I don't understand half of the words you just said,” I said in a deadpan tone.
He looked at me with pursed lips, and then gave it to me straight. “I'm calling bullshit. If you were relaxed through that, I'd call you enlightened. But for now, I just call you a liar.”
I let out a laugh and almost jumped at the sound.
“Well, yeah, okay!” I said, holding up my hands in defense. “It was challenging. But genuinely, I felt really relaxed...”
“At the end,” Tripp declared.
“Yeah, at the end.”
“Did you like the massage?” he purred.
“It was a nice touch,” I said, then cleared my throat as I felt a blush spill across my cheeks again. “But I would have jumped if I hadn't been so relaxed. You snuck up on me.”
A smug grin spread across his face. “Oh, good. I wanted to surprise you a little.”
The waiter approached. He was an old guy with graying hair, wearing a bright green apron with orange turmeric stains all over it. “Hey, so, here's the, uh... macro bowls?” he asked.
“Right here, thanks, Bob,” Tripp said.
I looked down at the bowl that Bob set in front of me. It was incredibly green. A lot of leaves. Not much else. Maybe some other vegetables. Legumes. An unidentified type of dressing. I leaned over and sniffed at it, then looked up as Tripp giggled at me.
“Trust me,” he said, as he handed me a fork.
I shrugged, and accepted it.
“Mm!” Tripp said as he took a big bite of baked sweet potato. “Good right?”
“Oh my god,” I mumbled through my first bite. “This is actually so good!”
I was genuinely blown away but how delicious it tasted. It was like every flavor mingled with the others in a way that I’d never experienced before. I stabbed more leaves with my fork, smeared them through the dressing, and shoved it into my mouth.
“They say that your taste buds are the first things to wake up when you do yoga,” Tripp said.
“What do you mean 'wake up'?” I asked as I shoved another forkful into my mouth. “And what do they put on this to make it taste so good?”
“It's like, yoga is designed to awaken what's already inside you. It might be anything. Maybe a love of dance. Maybe more inner peace. Maybe an appetite for cilantro tahini dressing,” he said with a smirk.
“Oh my god, are you kidding me?” I asked, almost dropping my fork. “I hate cilantro!”
Tripp laughed and clapped his hands. “This is what I'm saying! Yoga changes people.”
I chuckled and took another bite, completely disbelieving that I was eating cilantro.
“How'd it change you?” I asked offhandedly, just to keep the conversation rolling.
Tripp paused and set his fork down. I looked up from my bowl and found that he was staring out the window at the street. I wondered if he'd even heard me and was about to repeat my question when he said, “It gave me more confidence.”
“I can see that,” I said, trying to catch his eye.
“Hm,” he said, and shrugged.
Part of me wanted to ask more, but my taste buds were craving the macro bowl so badly that I couldn't stop myself from shoving another forkful into my face. Suddenly, my old suspicion rose up.
“You are joking, right?” I said as I glared at Tripp. “Is this a prank? Brainwashing me into thinking that I like cilantro when this is just, like, parsley or something?”
Tripp blew air out of his lips and rolled his eyes. “Please. That's kind of below my caliber of prank standards.”
“Oh, my apologies, I forgot that you were so highbrow. Like when you put itching powder in my jockstrap. That was very eloquent.”
Tripp laughed again, and the sound of it brought a smile out across my face.
“It was a favor! You needed to sit that game out,” he said. “You were injured!”
“Was I?” I asked, genuinely surprised. “I don't remember that.”
“Well, I do - and you were. And I can't believe you're still playing such a high-risk sport. How's your team looking for the new season?”
I raised my eyebrows, even more surprised. “You follow the football season?”“I'm not from another planet,” Tripp rolled his eyes and added salt to his bowl. “Are you ready for the Helena team's undisputedly awesome offense?”
I chuckled and sat back with my arms across my chest, “Yeah, actually... We are...”
“Hey, don't act so surprised! I don't just go to games to watch the players run around in tight pants!” he insisted.
I let out a laugh and Tripp's face lit up.
“You have a great laugh. You should do it more often,” he smiled.
I suddenly felt that damn blush creeping across my face again. I cleared my throat and put my attention back on my bowl.
“How'd you, uh, get into yoga?” I asked.
“My grandpa got me into it, actually,” he said. “His doctor said that it could help him with his muscle and joint pain, so he started practicing at home. He dragged me into it – I mean, I did it with him just to entertain him, but it's not like I hated it...”
I chuckled and nodded. “My Nona gets me to paint with her sometimes. Not what I'd choose to do with my own time, but it's nice to do something different.”
“Right? Well, it turned out that I loved it – after a while, at least. And when my grandpa died, I just kept going. I started trying new positions and posting them online when I felt like they were good enough to share. And then suddenly the whole social media famous thing just kind of happened.”
I swallowed my food and gave Tripp my condolences. “I'm sorry to hear that you lost your grandfather.”
“Thank you. It was a few years ago, but it's still a sore point...” he said as he smiled sweetly.
I nodded. The idea of Nona passing away was too much for me to even consider, so I pushed it way out of my mind and stayed quiet. Tripp was more than happy to fill the silence, and for once I felt relieved to hear his chatter.
“My grandfather always encouraged me to just enjoy life, you know? He wanted everyone to be happy... I know I can be a bit much sometimes, but bringing other people joy is what makes me really happy. That’s part of the pranks… It was stupid but in high school, pranking people was the only way I could make people laugh.”
I glanced at him and felt something moving inside me. It was like gears in my chest were breaking free from rust or something that had them kept them stuck in place for years. All of a sudden, I could see the vulnerability behind all of those stupid pranks he'd ever pulled on me, and I felt a rush of compassion for him.
6
Tripp
As we sat in the New Leaf Cafe, I realized that I had begun to really relax around Decker. I wasn't so focused on making him laugh, or getting him to like me, or proving myself to him in some way. My posture was a little more slouched than usual, and I found that I was actually relaxing my core for once. The change felt nice. Cozy. Real. We were getting to know each other, and I wasn't constantly plotting my next move. I hadn't even planned to reveal so much about myself as I had in that one conversation. But for some reason, it felt safe to
open up to Decker. It was a strange turn of events that I hadn’t expected.
“You were a real tyrant in high school,” Decker said, which wasn’t the first time he’d called me out on it — but this time, I caught a hint of softness in his voice. It caught me off-guard so I giggled loudly as I tossed my head back.
“Yeah, I pulled probably some of my best pranks of all time back then. A lot of them directed at you. You've always been a special target of mine, though. So of course you warranted special attention,” I winked.
Decker shook his head with a warm smile and assured me, “Oh, I remember. Don't go thinking I've forgotten the G-string that you somehow engineered to come flying out of my locker into the middle of the hallway right when everyone was rushing to get to the cafeteria for lunch. It's burned into my memory.”
I let out a loud, “Ha!” before I actually remembered the prank. “Oh my god, there were so many good ones that I actually did forget that prank. Lavender lace is a very flattering color for you, though.” I stammered as I broke into laughter again. Decker was laughing too. I sighed. “The hall monitor who picked it up probably kept it,” and we both broke down giggling all over again.
“Too bad,” Decker lamented.
“Why's that?”
“Well, you just said it was a good color for me.”
“You think you could get some use out of it?”
“Yeah, maybe,” he smirked, and then his face turned serious again. “That wasn't the worst prank, though.”
“No?” I asked, excited to hear him retell another tale from my comedic glory days.
“No. The worst one was the candy bar,” he said sternly.
“Candy bar...?” I prompted him, furrowing my brow and stroking my chin in feigned ignorance.
“Like you've forgotten. The candy bar! It was unquestionably the worst one!” he insisted defiantly.
“First of all, I think you mean best, not worst,” I corrected. “Second of all, my highlight reel is extremely long and impressive, which you should know. I'm going to need you to guide me a little more toward this specific candy bar-related prank.”
Claimed By My Pretend Boyfriend: Blackwater Pack Book Six Page 4