By the time we finally reached the end, I actually did feel more relaxed. I guess fake it till you make it really works. We sat in meditation for a while and I didn’t even feel antsy.
When it was over, I had a real smile on my face. I felt good. Fluffed out and relaxed.
“My hips are so open,” Crystal said, and we all laughed. It was a total yoga joke. Well, it wasn’t a joke in that it was true. It felt great when you opened your hips. Really great. But the joke was that it was one of those things people always say after yoga.
We all grabbed our sweatshirts—sorry, wraps—and our water bottles and sat down for our weekly meeting.
First on the agenda was the smaller class sizes. We were all feeling the pinch in our paychecks.
Annette pulled her dark hair back over her shoulder. “The quiet hours seem to be working, but it’s far from silent during my class.”
“Unfortunately, Jake said he’s going to have to make some more noise. Contractors or something like that. He’s going to send me an email,” I told the girls.
“I was thinking I could teach a class with live drummers. Maybe at lunchtime. The drums would drown out the construction noise.” Crystal nibbled a piece of seaweed. Seaweed!
“I love that idea,” Jennifer chimed in.
Annette took some seaweed. Seriously? “Me too. I meant to ask, how’s your mom, Crystal?”
“Not great, but she’s in good spirits. The doctors say it will be another month or two before she’s back to herself again.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Crystal shrugged. “It’s not easy to make her rest. She really wants to come to all our Yoga Week workshops.”
Annette grabbed on to this topic like a lifeline. “Okay, ladies, I’ve made a list of promotional materials we need to create. Flyers, email blasts, Facebook ads, and monetary goals.”
Jennifer nodded along. “Don’t forget positive affirmations. We should make a vision board.”
My spine curled.
I’d never thought I’d be in this position—owning a business and flat broke and relying on vision boards.
I always pictured myself as this capable, mature, successful business owner. That, once I made the plunge, I would be on the road to success. Yet, I felt so unprepared.
Powerless.
Yoga-Week Kenobi, you are our only hope.
There was so much at stake. I could lose everything. I’d sunk all my money, all my credit, into this studio. If it failed, I didn’t have anything, including food or a place to sleep.
And I’d sworn to myself I’d never go back there.
I couldn’t even cover my bills. I didn’t know if the other girls were in the same position as me, and I was too proud to ask. It was my own choices that had gotten me here. I shouldn’t have invested everything I owned, including my emergency fund. I should have done my due diligence and known about the construction.
I pushed the thoughts aside. I knew that the anxiety churning in my belly would only drag me down. No solution ever came from that crazy-making worry. I had to focus, keep my head up, and fake it till I made it.
Fuck it. I’d make a vision board. What could it hurt?
We were going to host the best Yoga Week any studio in this town had ever seen. We were going to fucking win Yoga Week.
“I do think we need to put more effort into our Facebook page,” I said, determined to do something.
“Who’s even on Facebook anymore?” Annette asked.
“Uh, millions and millions of people.”
“Actually, that’s a really good point.” Jennifer pulled out her phone and started typing. “I’m pulling up our page now. We have close to two thousand likes.”
“How many likes do the other studios in town have?” Crystal asked.
Jennifer typed on her phone. “Some are over four thousand likes.”
I sat up. “And they probably post every day. Or close to every day. I think we need to put up more content and draw people in.”
Annette sighed. “Fine. How about we each do one post a week.”
“I can do more,” I said. I might as well do something useful with all the time I waste on the internet. “I’ll try to make it content you ladies would like.”
“As opposed to what?” Jennifer frowned. “Let’s just stay out of politics.”
“I was thinking something along the lines of ‘Healthy Green Smoothies that Don’t Taste Like Grass.’ Or ‘Top Ten Reasons to Do a Down Dog Today.’”
“Go for it. Sounds great.”
I felt marginally better. An inch more control over my future. “I have Crystal to thank for that smoothie recipe.”
Crystal playfully bowed her head like a queen acknowledging her junk food subject.
With that, we ended the meeting.
“Did you have your private with Jake today?” Crystal asked as we were rolling up our mats.
“Yup.”
Crystal giggled. “Um, girlfriend, were you wearing those pants?”
“Yeah?” I glanced down at my old yoga pants. Sure, they weren’t the latest and greatest, but I’d had them forever and they were as comfortable as a second skin. “What’s wrong with them?”
She took my shoulders and led me over to the mirror, then turned me around. “Bend over and look in the mirror.”
Heat flooded to my face. Oh no.
“Seriously?” I groaned. I did as she instructed and there it was, my green thong. “Oh my God.”
I stood up straight, and my pants looked normal, but when I bent at the waist, there it was. My thong.
I was dying inside.
I covered my face with my hands. “No wonder he was acting so strange. He was probably embarrassed for me and didn’t know how to tell me my pants are freaking see-through.”
“I’m sure embarrassed wasn’t exactly the emotion he was feeling,” Crystal purred.
Heat pulsed through me as I recalled the expression on his face. The way his eyes were sleepy and intense at the same time. I felt uncomfortable. Edgy. I didn’t know if I was embarrassed or turned on. Or both.
“I need new pants,” I sighed.
“But not a new thong.” Crystal laughed.
I pressed my hands over my eyes. Would I ever outlive thong-gate?
Chapter 14
Jake
Friday afternoon, we finished the demo of the upstairs space. In a few more months, it would become the new offices for Marshall Architecture.
I finally got something accomplished.
My first thought was of Hannah. Being in a good mood, and with the memory of her thong burned into my brain, I went downstairs and found her.
“I want to show you something,” I said as I stepped into Bloom. She was packing up to leave.
She turned toward me, her arms laden with bags. What was it with women and their endless bags? What did she even have in there?
“Oh. Hi.” A smile spread across her face. “I was going to come up and see you.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just wanted to say bye before I left,” she said, looking me up and down like she was hungry.
I grinned. I liked this girl. Had I mentioned that?
I craved her the same way I craved being outside.
I was going to convince her to go out with me. I had to get her out of my system. I was going to fuck her silly and get over this consuming lust.
“Come with me.” I took the bags from her arms and set them on the bench by the door. Then I touched her, just above her ass, just above that place her thong was. She’d changed her pants, unfortunately. But a guy could dream. “Upstairs.”
I guided her out of the studio, around the florist, then into the door leading upstairs.
The energy built on my skin. It was like a gathering lightning storm at high altitude. My hair lifted, and I knew what was coming would be powerful and beautiful and dangerous and I was ready for it.
“You opened up the doorway,” she said, looking a
t the gaping hole Mike Jr. had made earlier. On purpose this time.
“We’ll upgrade the whole exterior. I have the plans upstairs if you want to see them.”
Her eyes lit up. “I’d love to.”
Once upstairs, I put my hand on her back again as if to steer her around the construction zone, but I was just looking for any excuse to touch her. The space was quiet. The crew had packed up for the weekend.
“Here’s the mock-up I was talking about.” I pointed to a computer reproduction of the building that I’d printed out and hung on the wall. “We’re going to fully restore the exterior of the building. We’ve already repaired some of the brickwork and resealed the windows. The limestone is local and in good repair, which saved us a big chunk of cash. We want to keep as much of the original materials as possible. The we’ll bring it into the twenty-first century by replacing the aluminum doors with reclaimed wood and putting up bronzed metalwork as a design element.”
My blood kicked up even more as I talked about the building. I was in my domain here, with my plans and Hannah.
“And this”—I spread open my hands, indicating the entire upstairs—“is finally ready. We finished the demolition today. Most of the construction will be up here now. Check out the width of these planks. We’re going to put in walls but keep the front open and add a design feature for the entryway.”
She spun in a circle, taking it all in. “It’s gorgeous.”
“There’s so much character in this building. Brian and I looked for a new office space for over a year and always came back to this building, but it wasn’t for sale. It was built in 1891, when the Gold Rush was in its big swing and Colorado was put on the map. It started as a dry goods store. They sold furniture to the settlers in the Wild West. Then, at some point, it was turned into a ballroom. Look at these huge windows.”
“And this.” I walked to the corner and pointed to the floor. “This trim was hand painted sometime around the thirties. It’s still in great shape.”
“Wow.” She knelt down and inspected the floor. “You don’t have to rip it up to run plumbing I hope.”
“No, we worked around it.”
“Through the exterior walls?”
“Yeah.” I straightened, surprised. “And the ceiling. How do you know about plumbing?”
She stood up and shrugged. “I’ve lived in some rough places that needed fixing up, and no one was going to do it but me.”
“You didn’t retrofit the pipes?” I asked, incredulous.
“No,” she said, circling the room. “But I found them. And that was hard enough. Look at the plasterwork on the ceiling. Are you going to keep it?”
“Definitely. It needs some repairs, though.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets and smiled at her. She stopped in place and grinned back. Sunlight fell through the tall windows, illuminating the wild curls of her hair.
I felt that zing, like I was standing on top of a mountain, the horizon wide open before me. I felt alive.
“You really do love this building,” she said softly. “And the renovation project.”
“For sure.”
“So…” She tilted her head to the side and bit her lip but didn’t say more.
“So what?” I asked.
“Nothing. It’s not my business.”
“You can ask me anything.”
“Well…” She swung her hand wide, walking toward me. “I’m just wondering why you’re leaving. I mean, look at you.” She stopped in front of me and brushed her hand over my cheek. “You’re all lit up like a boy on Christmas.”
I liked her touch. Her questions, not so much. But, then, I’d given her the green light to ask them. “You sound like my cousin. He’s always trying to get me to stick around.”
She dropped her hand but didn’t step away. “Why don’t you?”
“It’s hard to explain.”
She raised her brows. Leaned in and bumped me with her shoulder. “Try me.”
You don’t want to know the truth.
“Things start to add up after a while. Like I can’t breathe. And it’s just time to go.”
She nodded, gazing at me intently. Like she was trying to see inside me.
I held her gaze. If she wanted to see me, let her look. She could see how much I wanted her. She could read in my expression all the dirty thoughts I’d had about her in bed last night. And the shower that morning. And every breath today since I’d seen that green thong.
Her cheeks reddened, and her gaze dipped down to my mouth.
A swift grin spread across my face.
I couldn’t wait to get her naked in my bed. Or her bed. Or the floor.
Naked anywhere.
Hell, she didn’t even have to be naked.
My stomach growled. “I just realized I haven’t eaten all day,” I said, rubbing my belly. “I’m going to grab dinner downstairs. Want to join me?”
She glanced away, took a breath, then returned her gaze to mine with a smile. A confident smile that sent that energy pulsing right through me. “Yeah, sure. I can always eat.”
I smiled back, locked up, and we went down to Mountain Buzz Café. They had a limited food selection, but it all tasted good. We both ordered and found a quiet booth in the back.
“Thanks for joining me for dinner. It beats going home to an empty house.” I slipped into the booth beside her rather than across from her.
“No plans for a Friday night?” She didn’t slide away. My strategy was working.
“Nope. This girl I’ve been asking out keeps saying no.” I bumped her with my shoulder. “Actually, I have a big training schedule for the weekend. I need to be up before the dawn. We leave at three a.m.”
She tuned toward me, her brows raised. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll climb Pyramid Peak by way of Keyhole Route and sleep at the summit.”
“Sounds hard. I hope you’re not going alone.”
I shook my head. “My buddy from work is coming. What about you?”
“If my weekend resembles last weekend, I’m just going to sit around and eat junk food.”
I rested my leg against hers under the table, and she didn’t pull away. “I can’t believe that’s all you do. Junk food? Really?”
“Compared to how people eat here, yeah. But I have a gardening project I’m working on. And I have to make that work flyer I keep putting off.”
A server came by with our food. Starving, I dug into my dinner.
“How’s the pulled chicken?” Hannah asked.
“Good,” I mumbled, my mouth stuffed. I pushed my plate toward her. “Try it.”
She dipped her fork into my dinner and took a hefty bite. Her eyes lit up when the spicy meat met her tongue.
“Wow.” She licked her lips. “Delicious. Have some of my pot pie.”
We sat in companionable silence, sharing our dinners and enjoying the mellow live music coming from the front of the café.
It was a strangely relaxed and domestic moment.
I should have felt freaked out, but I didn’t.
Once we had eaten everything on the table but the condiments, I took her hand in mine.
She kept her attention focused on the musicians but didn’t draw away. And that electricity built between us again, just from the friction of energy between our palms. Mine was rough and calloused, and hers was soft. So soft.
I would discover her softest places. Taste them. Map them on her body.
Blood pumped through my ears. The need roared up inside me.
I was a hungry lion.
Something starving and raw raged through me.
And Hannah was the cure.
I brushed a curl of hair behind her shoulder. “Am I allowed to say something nice?”
She turned toward me, her lips tilted up at the corners. “Of course.”
“I think you’re interesting.”
“Interesting?” Her brows winged up and her eyes sparkled. “Well, I can’t say I was expecting that.”
&
nbsp; “What were you expecting?”
“Oh.” She shrugged playfully instead of answering.
“No, really?” I pressed.
“I don’t know, something about my ass, I guess.”
Thong, thong, thong… “Guys compliment your ass a lot?”
She shook her head with a laugh. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
“I can’t blame them. You do have a very fine ass.”
“I just mean that’s the kind of stuff guys say. That girls are hot or they have a good rack or whatever.”
“Who even says rack anymore?”
“I don’t know.” Heat spread across her face, and she pressed her hands over her cheeks, as if to hide them.
Gently, I lowered her hands from her face, one by one. Then I cupped her chin and rubbed my thumb over her warm cheek. “You think about that date?”
“Um, yes.” She bit her lip.
“Still need persuading? Because I’m happy to persuade you.”
I slipped my other hand onto her thigh, my gaze holding hers captive. She inhaled sharply.
“Persuading is not necessary.” Her voice was thin and thready.
I ran my thumb over her jaw. Then I leaned in and kissed her on the lips. With my thumb, I pulled her jaw open and swept my tongue into her mouth. She tasted tangy and sweet and delicious. Her hands found my shoulders, and she kissed me back, her tongue darting around mine in an ancient game.
I inhaled, gathered my strength, and pulled back. Ending the kiss.
I could press for more. But right then, I just wanted to leave her panting.
Breathless.
Wanting me.
“As you wish.” I ran my hand down her arm, then let her go. Her eyes were glazed over, her lips pink. I slipped out of the booth before I kissed her again and threw some cash on the table for a tip. “I’m not going to ask you out again.”
She looked up, and something dimmed in her eyes. Disappointment, maybe. “No?”
“No.” I dropped my voice, locked my gaze on hers. “You are going to come to me. When you are hot and wanting, you will come. And I’m going to make you beg.”
Breathless (Yoga in the City Book 1) Page 13