Make Up Break Up

by Lily Menon

  “Partner poses,” Annika repeated. “Is that what it sounds like? You use a partner to do a yoga pose?”

  “Precisely!” Seetha rubbed her hands together like some cartoon villainess. Annika smiled. Seetha was as evangelistic about yoga as some people were about their religion. “Elevate your practice to the next level. Get that stress elemental under control. What do you think?”

  “I love it.” Annika rolled out her yoga mat, eager to begin.

  The class began to fill, and, after waving to a few of the regulars, Annika sat in the middle of her mat and crossed her legs, placing each foot on the opposite thigh. She closed her eyes, placed her hands faceup on her knees, and began to practice her deep breathing.

  The imagery she used was always the same—pure, blue water, rippling in a burbling brook. Breathe in, breathe out. Listen to the brook. Annika found she could drown out practically every sound in the world with this meditation.

  “Hey, Annika.”

  Okay, she couldn’t drown out that sound. Annika’s eyes flew open and she found herself staring at those singularly startling green irises. “Hudson Craft?”

  He was standing there with a yoga mat dangling from his shoulder, his usual confidence marred slightly by a hint of hesitation that played across his face. He studied her with an intensity that froze her in place, an almost defensive edge to the way he held his jaw. But that made no sense. What did he have to be defensive about? This was her studio. He was the intruder.

  In the next instant, the intensity, defensiveness, and hesitation were all gone, as if she’d imagined them in the first place.

  “You know,” he said in his casual LA drawl, “you don’t have to say my full name every time.” He rolled out a yoga mat next to hers and began stretching his arms, his shirt lifting up to expose a patch of tan, flat stomach and a happy trail that disappeared into his shorts. Annika looked away hurriedly, before he could catch her staring and laugh at her. Ugh. Why was the dude always so self-satisfied? More important, how had she ever thought he was attractive?

  Sure, Hudson was conventionally—some might say Chris Hemsworth–level—handsome. He could play Thor in any remakes Hollywood might be considering. But Annika now automatically distrusted men that handsome. People with faces and bodies like that usually came with major issues. And Hudson came with a plethora, that was for damn sure.

  Annika blamed her previous weakness at the conference on the margaritas. Or on Vegas. It was one of life’s secret truths that almost all evil could be blamed on Vegas, margaritas, and gorgeous men.

  “How’s your eye, you big liar?” The words shot out before she could stop herself. “And where’s your bodyguard?”

  Hudson grinned, arching his back and reaching for his toes, the ridge of his rhomboid muscle visible through his shirt. Show-off. “I didn’t think you liked Blaire that much.”

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” She was irritated beyond reason that she couldn’t seem to ruffle his feathers like he ruffled hers, and she couldn’t tone down her annoyance. Hudson was interfering with all her signals, scrambling them until she couldn’t think straight. “It’s not enough that you move into my office building—you have to take over my yoga studio, too?”

  “Your yoga studio?” Hudson smirked. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Tree. Or can I call you Breathing?”

  Annika glowered at him, vaguely aware the class had filled with people.

  He held his hands up. “Look, it was a coincidence. Both the moving-into-your-office-building part and the yoga thing. I lost a bet with Ziggy and his terms were that I take a few yoga classes. This was the closest studio to work.”

  Annika scoffed. “What was the bet?”

  “I promised to work under eighty hours last week and didn’t quite make it.” Hudson quirked one side of his mouth. “I don’t think I’ve managed to work any less since I came up with the idea for Break Up. It’s important to me.” His eyes held hers, and an expression flitted across his face, gone before Annika could analyze it.

  He was a workaholic. Of course he was. “Working eighty hours a week pulverizing hearts is important to you. Nice. Do you have to down a bottle of NyQuil every night to get to sleep?”

  “I have absolutely no problems getting to sleep. I’m doing the world a service, though you may not see it that way.” Annika barked a laugh at this atrocious claim, but he continued anyway, ignoring her. “I didn’t move into the building knowing you were there. Maybe … we just have similar taste.”

  Annika felt the frisson of memory between them. There were certain details from Vegas that were still sharp in her mind, like the fact that Hudson was a very, very good kisser. With exceptionally skillful hands. Annika swallowed and scooted a millimeter away from him. “I don’t think so,” she said. “We have absolutely nothing in common. Nothing.”

  Hudson opened his mouth to respond, but Seetha spoke from the front of the room, interrupting him. With a vaguely frustrated expression, he turned to face her. Good. Annika hoped he’d stay quiet for the rest of the hour.

  * * *

  It was a great workout. Annika was able to push Hudson’s presence out of her head about 75 percent of the time, even though he was right next to her, his long arms and legs twisting and flexing in her peripheral vision. He was actually pretty good for someone who was doing this on a whim. And for someone with those giant tree-trunk thighs. Of course he’s good at yoga, Annika thought, cutting him a withering glare when he wasn’t looking. Hudson Craft was one of those annoying people who were naturally good at everything.

  She blew out a breath and tried to refocus. Hudson was immaterial. Right now, only yoga mattered.

  “And now, as you move out of vajrasana, I’d like to introduce you all to something new.” Seetha’s voice washed over them as she walked between rows of people. “Please take this moment to partner up with the person next to you.”

  Seetha walked up to Annika and Hudson. “You two can work together for this, right?”

  “Uh—him?” Annika whispered, trying and failing to think of an excuse to wriggle out of it.

  Seetha’s dark eyes twinkled, as if she knew exactly what she was doing. “He’s new, Annika, and you’re such a seasoned yogi. You’ll be generous with your skills, won’t you?”

  Annika choked on her spit, which prompted a coughing fit. Taking advantage of her inability to form words, Hudson spoke up. “Oh, Annika’s very generous.”

  Seetha smiled, winked, and kept moving.

  Once she could breathe again, Annika glared at him. Around them, people were turning to their partners with smiles and murmurs of encouragement. Must be nice. “Why do you want to partner with me, anyway?”

  Hudson studied her for a long moment, his green eyes flickering with something she didn’t understand. “I don’t know.” Then, seeming to catch himself, he added, with a raised thick blond eyebrow, “That vein on your forehead’s about to assault me. Are you sure you’re a practiced yogi?”

  Annika groaned.

  “All right, now I’d like to teach you all a new partner pose,” Seetha said from the front of the class. “It behooves us all to remember that life is a partnership between us and all the other sacred creatures sharing our planet.

  “Today I want us to practice ardha matsyendrasana, aka the ‘half lord of the fishes’ pose, with our partners. Before we begin, I’d like the yogi on the right—as you’re facing the front of the room—to walk over to the mat of the yogi on your left. You’ll both be sitting cross-legged on the same mat for this exercise. Right-hand yogis, please sit behind your partner.”

  Annika got up stiffly, and without making eye contact, went and sat behind Hudson. He obliged by moving forward a few inches. Did he have to be so arrogantly tall? He towered over her so much, she couldn’t see Seetha. Instead, she studied his back, inhaling deeply to find her center again. Even though he had a fine sheen of sweat on him, he smelled really good, like a combination of light soap, deodorant, and his own scent. Without warni
ng, a memory of a time they’d been this close almost knocked Annika over.

  They’d started drinking at the bar, and then, out of nowhere, Annika had invited him to her hotel room, surprising even herself. Later, she would think about it and realize it had been an incremental sort of thing, her lust thermometer creeping up with each quiet observation—the alpha way he strode up the stairs to take the stage and give a presentation that held their peers in thrall. Once they’d begun to form a friendship over the week of the conference, she’d been captivated by the way he bowed his head, his big hand cupped around a pencil and his eyes sparking as he outlined the ideas rattling around in his mind. But all of that would be a post-analysis. In the moment, Annika had known only that she wanted—needed—to be with this man.

  They’d sat on the couch in her room, laughing and talking. Slowly, they’d gotten closer and closer, Hudson’s arm resting lightly over her shoulders, Annika’s hand on his knee. When she thought about the first time his tongue had brushed over her lips and coaxed her mouth open, tasting of sweet wine, she still got goose bumps. Goose bumps. As if she’d never been kissed before.

  Annika forced her mind away from the memory. She shifted on the yoga mat, her heart thundering, her bones liquid. Oh, god. Was she actually turned on right now? She closed her eyes and gave herself a pep talk. This is not the time to revive your sexual attraction for this man, who, might I remind you, Annika Dev, is your enemy. He thrives on helping people break up. He is poison.

  “You okay back there?”

  Annika opened her eyes to see Hudson peering curiously at her over his shoulder. “Fine,” she said primly, though her cheeks felt warm. Good thing it was nearly impossible to see her blushing, thanks to her extra helping of melanin.

  “All right,” Seetha said, in her calm voice. “Now that everyone is situated, I’d like all the right-hand yogis to turn around, so your back is against your partner’s.”

  Annika did so eagerly, grateful she wouldn’t have to stare at Hudson’s perfect physique or smell him anymore. They pressed their backs together. Annika had to remind herself to breathe, which was ridiculous. Hudson Craft was just a human. Just a mound of muscle and bone, like her. So, okay, he was more attractive a mound than most people she knew, but that shouldn’t matter. Yoga was about transcending the physical.

  As they sat there touching, Annika found herself pressing a cool hand to the back of her neck. His body heat was intense; it enveloped her until she, too, had a light sheen of sweat all over her. A memory flashed into her mind, unbidden: Hudson unbuttoning and then slipping off her shirt, his mouth at her neck.

  Goddammit. When would this exercise be over?

  “Now I want you to inhale and stretch both your arms over your head,” Seetha cooed, blissfully oblivious to the maelstrom in Annika’s body. “As you exhale, twist to your right. Bring your right hand to the inside of your partner’s left knee. Your left hand will rest on your right knee.”

  Annika’s breath caught in her throat. She thought she sensed hesitation from Hudson, too, but then they were doing as Seetha had asked. Hudson’s big, hot hand rested gently on the inside of her knee, his fingers putting just the right amount of pressure on her skin. The pose made them face away from each other, but Annika’s mouth had gone dry. His hand brought back more memories, how it had traveled up her skirt along her inner thigh—

  “Are you okay?” Hudson whispered, his head still turned away.

  “Yes. Will you stop asking me that?” Annika hissed back.

  “You’re trembling.”

  He was right. She was trembling a little, like she was a tuning fork he’d hit. Her hand on his inner knee was shaking, too. A moment later, Annika felt his free hand over hers, stilling it.

  Hudson turned his head so they were staring at each other over their shoulders. Annika couldn’t help it; her gaze traveled to his lips.

  “Okay, now lift your arms again, and turn to the opposite side this time.”

  Annika jumped as if Seetha had fired a Nerf gun at her. She wrenched her hand out from under Hudson’s. She could feel his back shaking as he laughed quietly to himself. Annika narrowed her eyes and brought her other hand down hard on his opposite knee.

  “Ow.”

  “You deserved that.”

  “What for? It’s not my fault you still fantasize about me every time you fall asleep.”

  Annika’s mouth fell open in outrage, even though she knew Hudson couldn’t see her. “I do not.”

  “No?” His hand on her inner knee, feather-light, moved just a fraction. “I seem to remember you had a thing for my hands—and all the many ways I used them.”

  Annika’s breaths came faster as she felt the pressure of his thumb on the back of her leg, his other fingers whispering along skin that felt like it was awaking from a deep sleep, fire dancing in her veins. Her own hand tightened, and she felt his muscled back stiffen against hers, like he was holding back some intense emotion. “Hudson—”

  He turned his head, his mouth at her ear, his breath moving her hair when he spoke. “Why?”

  Annika could barely breathe, let alone make sense of what he was saying. “Wh-what?”

  “And that brings us to the end of class,” Seetha said. “You are welcome to go into shavasana if you’d like to rest for five minutes. If you must leave, please leave quietly.”

  Annika scrambled to her feet like they, the entire studio, and the world at large were on fire. She grabbed her yoga mat without looking at Hudson and practically ran out of the room, waving quickly to Seetha.

  Why had she let him get to her like that? Incorrigible, awful tease. It didn’t help that she hadn’t slept with anyone since their night in Vegas. She pushed open the glass doors, rounded the corner, and leaned against the brick wall in the alley, panting lightly as she tried to collect her thoughts.

  What had she done to deserve this rush of bad luck? She’d always tried to be such a good person. Now her archnemesis had not only moved into her office building, he was taking the same freaking yoga class as her. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Hudson knew the effect he had on women—he had to know—and he was just using that to disarm her. He had a guilty conscience because of the awful work he was doing with his app, and maybe he thought sleeping with her could somehow assuage that.

  Ha. Hudson was kidding himself. Annika wanted nothing to do with him. Nothing. Zero. Zilch.

  * * *

  Everything looked better with a cinnamon dolce latte. As Annika walked through the cool parking garage the next morning, toting her coffee and yoga gear, she was sure her reaction to Hudson had just been a reaction to work stress. In the light of day, it was even a little amusing. How had she let someone like him get to her? It was so obvious Hudson was trying to sleep with her as some kind of coup or a way to make himself feel better about his terrible life choices.

  Annika lined up for the elevator and took a thoughtful sip of her coffee. She was wearing her red sheath dress today, the one that made her feel confident and poised—and it was working. She’d come to the realization that Hudson should be considered a speed bump in her life and nothing more. He wasn’t worth the brain space she’d been dedicating to him. The elevator came and she stepped on, feeling more buoyant than she’d felt in a long time.

  On her floor, there were noises coming from the Break Up office, but she kept her eyes pointed forward. They didn’t exist. They were irrelevant. What mattered was Make Up, the movement she was trying to grow, what she wanted to see more of in this world. Annika took a deep, centering breath, and pushed open the glass door.

  June stood by the whiteboard, dressed in a purple puffed-sleeve shirt and gold skirt, her back to Annika. She was busy writing EPIC Pitch Contest at the top-right of the whiteboard, obviously gearing up for another brainstorming session. Hearing Annika arrive, she turned, beaming, a dry-erase marker held jubilantly aloft. Her chandelier earrings danced. “Guess what?”

  “Um…” Annika went to put her yoga gear into
the closet. “Mr. McManor decided to take pity on us? We’re debt-free? Hudson Craft fell out of his window? Gwyneth Paltrow’s cousin got chicken pox?”

  June mock-pouted, her hands on her hips. “Now mine is going to feel like a letdown.”

  Annika laughed. “I give up. What?”

  “Colin McGuire, our newest beta tester, set up an appointment for tomorrow.” June grinned. There were few things in life that made Annika happier than new beta testers, which meant new data points for OLLI to chomp on and grow.

  “Nice. What time?”

  “First thing,” June replied. “I know that’s when you work best.”

  Annika took a gulp of sweet coffee. “The more people we can get in here, the faster we can do this. It’s gonna be fantastic.”

  “One might even say … epic.” June raised an eyebrow. Annika laughed.

  “Okay, point taken. Let’s get to brainstorming our pitch. So, the contest is coming up in six weeks. That’s hardly any time at all. We need to come up with something pithy, something entertaining and full of heart. I’ve read the investors are really into the heart-wrenching, gut-punching stories, especially Lionel Wakefield.”

  “Yep.” June wrote down wrench their hearts, punch their guts. “He was in last month’s Wired, did you see? ‘The Bleeding-Heart Billionaire,’ that’s what they’re calling him. EPIC got a shout-out, too, something about how it’s the contest to keep an eye on to see what the next big thing in tech is going to be. It’s going to be huge.”

  “Yeah, I saw that. That’s why we need to absolutely kill it.”

  June nodded. “Definitely. If we get our secret feature up and running in time, it’ll be especially effective.”

  Annika frowned. “Secret fe—oh, you mean the future projection?”

  “Shh.” June held the marker up to her lips and gestured to the door. “There are spies everywhere.” In another corner of the board, June wrote, Super-secret feature ++Make Up. “Okay. Do we know who the competition is yet?”

  Annika walked to her desk and set her coffee down. “I heard through the grapevine that Patterns, Glow Up, and Heart Tech are all pitching, too.”