Breathless (Yoga in the City Book 1)

by Leigh LaValle

  I put on some music, grabbed a bucket, and started yanking out weeds.

  Maybe I could just text Jake. Yank. Tell him thanks for a fun night. Yank.

  No. I shook my head at myself. I needed to focus on my life. Like the fact I was down to a few hundred dollars in my bank account. And the fact that being penniless and hungry and scared really sucked.

  Yank. Yank. Yank.

  But Jake could help me with all that.

  Hannah!

  I stood up. My back burned, but I deserved it for being such a fool. I attacked another section of the yard. If only I could pull out the idiotic parts of myself as easily as I could pull out the weeds.

  When the shit hit the fan, as it inevitably would, I had no one to fall back on but myself. I needed to remember that. I’d worked hard to build a nest egg for myself, but then I’d gone and sunk it all into a sinking studio. Bad move. But it was my move. My choice.

  I was in charge of my life.

  I’d fought my way out of a bad spot before. I could do it again.

  Besides, Jake had said he’d call me. We’d made a plan.

  But then I’d stayed over. Did that mean he’d call tomorrow night?

  Maybe he’d sent a text and I’d missed it.

  I rushed over to my phone and picked it up, not caring that my hands were covered in dirt.

  Nothing.

  My heart dropped.

  Okay, Hannah, get a grip. Sure, he’s hot. And sweet. And smart and funny and kind and all those good things. But you have boundaries, healthy boundaries. You can do this.

  I couldn’t do it.

  I stared at the phone like it was a cigarette and I’d just quit smoking.

  My blood pumped, my stomach rolled, and I had weird jitters.

  I took a deep breath. I didn’t know what bothered me more, wanting to call him so bad or the fact I could barely control myself.

  Maybe I could lock up my phone. Maybe there was an app for late-night phone calls, drunk dialing, crazy girlfriends, that kind of thing.

  My phone rang in my hand.

  I tossed it into the grass like a live snake.

  It rang again.

  I leapt across the yard. I better not have cracked the screen. I grabbed my phone.

  Jake.

  He was calling.

  I stared at the screen, unsure what to do.

  The phone rang again.

  I could do this.

  I swiped my finger across the screen and answered his phone call.

  “Hello?” I said it like a question, like I didn’t know who is there.

  “Hannah.” Oh, sigh. I loved it when he said my name. “You all right? You sound out of breath.”

  “Uh, yeah. I’m okay. What’s up?” Act normal. Like a normal adult acts. I shook out my shoulders, trying to get my cool on.

  “Well first, thanks for last night.” His voice was dark and sultry. “And this morning. And this afternoon.”

  Lust spiraled through me. “The pleasure was all mine.”

  He huffed a laugh. “It’s burger and beer night on Tuesdays at The Chairlift. Want to join me for some greasy food?”

  “I’d love to, but I have two classes Tuesday nights. How about tomorrow?” Shoot. I shouldn’t have said that. Not cool.

  “Well, I’m going to this film thing tomorrow…” His voice trailed off.

  “Sure, no problem. Another night.”

  “I mean, it’s just a slide show. No big deal. You could come.” He sounded hesitant. I bit my lip, not saying anything. “A bunch of it is about the Alaska Range. Some of the pictures are mine, taken a few years ago on in South America.”

  “Wow. I totally want to go!” I banged my fist into my forehead. “I mean, whatever.”

  “Okay. You should come. I’ll be at the office tomorrow, then the gym afterward. I can pick you up or I’ll meet you there.”

  “I’ll meet you there.” My voice was extra squeaky. I cleared my throat. “Great.”

  “Great.”

  “Great,” I said again. Because, crazy lady.

  “I’ll text you the info.”

  “It’s a plan.” I quickly hung up before I could say anything more.

  Monday, I waited for him outside the climbing store for the slide show. He showed up with wet hair and a big grin.

  “Hi, beautiful.” He put his hand on my waist and kissed me.

  “Hi.” He was wearing a light navy sweater and jeans and looked about as sexy as any Polo model ever had.

  He put his hand on my lower back. “Let’s go in and grab a seat.”

  The retail part of the store was empty, and Jake led me to an open space in the back near the shoe area. Chairs were set up facing a big screen. People, more specifically men, milled about, drinking beers and inspecting outdoor gear.

  I bumped Jake with my elbow. “Looks like your people.”

  He looked down at me. “Climbers?”

  “Beards and muscles.” I reached up and ran my fingers over his jaw. His scruff was getting longer, approaching a beard.

  He gave me a side-eyed smile.

  I glanced around again. “Where are the women?”

  “I don’t know. At yoga?”

  “Well, they’re missing out. I’ll have to make a public service announcement on Bloom’s Facebook page. There are some hot guys here.”

  “Hey,” he protested.

  I grinned, leaned up on tiptoe, and kissed his jaw. “What’s on the walls?”

  “Climbing memorabilia from over the years.”

  “It’s like a museum.” I stared at the wooden skis, coils of ropes, leather boots, a sweater, rucksacks, and pictures. Lots of pictures.

  “Jake! Great to see you, man.” A young-ish man with a blond ponytail headed our way, hand outstretched and a big smile on his face.

  “Stevie,” Jake shook his hand. “I saw you in Climbing Times. Nice article.”

  “Thanks. I was—”

  “What up, Jake.” Another guy joined the group. Like Jake, he was tall and muscled without being bulky. Dark brown hair and blue eyes, he was gorgeous.

  “Joey B.” Jake said the name like some kind of frat-boy-hip-hop thing. “Hey guys, meet Hannah.”

  “Hi.” I waved.

  “Hannah, lovely to meet you.” Stevie took my hand and bowed over it like some Arthurian knight.

  “Would either of you like a beer?” Joey B offered.

  Hell, yes. “Sure.” I smiled my thanks.

  I was so out of my element here. You could smell the testosterone coming off these guys. Only a few other ladies were present. Two women sat chatting with two guys, both jeans-and-flannel kind of girls. And one girl, who looked super ripped and strong, was drinking beer amid a group of men.

  Then there was me. In my miniskirt and purple top and sandals. I sprained my ankle just walking.

  What was Jake doing with me?

  Joey B handed me a beer. “Do you live here in Boulder, Hannah?”

  “Yeah. I’m a part owner of Bloom Yoga over on Main.”

  “Nice. A yoga teacher.” He gave Jake a little cheers with his beer on that one.

  Because I’m bendy?

  Men.

  Jake put his arm around my waist and leaned in so his breath stirred my hair. “Ignore these guys. They’re lost around beautiful women.”

  I flushed warm.

  “Let’s sit. Hey, McDonnal.” Jake nodded to another man. “Good to see you off the crutches.”

  “Yeah, that was a long stretch. But who am I talking to?” McDonnal waved toward Jake. “You had it worse than me, man. And you go back out there.”

  Jake shrugged. “A couple parts stubborn and a couple parts stupid.”

  I slipped into an empty chair and Jake sat beside me, his arm draped across the back of my seat. I could smell him. Flashes of memory burned across my brain. Skin on skin. Sharp breaths. Him on top of me. Inside me.

  “What are you thinking about?” he murmured.

  “Hmm?” My pa
nties were getting wet. I couldn’t look at him.

  From the corner of my eye, I watched a long, lazy smile steal across his face. He traced his thumb up my arm and along my shoulder to my neck. Shivers trickled down my spine.

  “There’ll be more later. I promise.”

  The lights went out and the slide show started. I half expected—okay, hoped—Jake would grope me in the dark, but he didn’t. His full attention was on the photos projected before us.

  A thirty-ish man with his arm in a cast narrated the slideshow. He jumped around the globe in his photos, talking about the climbing routes and the challenges to be found. And some funny stories of adventure.

  I wasn’t prepared for the beauty and the danger. Talk about being deep in the mountains. These guys were the definition of tough.

  The end of the show was the Alaska Range, where Jake was going in five weeks.

  My heart hammered as I watched the slides. Peak after peak, each more dramatic and difficult than the last. Would Jake be safe? Was his knee up for the challenge? What happened if he needed to be evacuated?

  I’d be thinking of him the whole time he was out there. Worrying.

  But I was also inspired by him, being out there, doing his thing, pushing his limits. His own limits. I was happy for him. And more than a little impressed.

  The lights flipped back on, and Jake sat back, blinking. “Can I borrow those slides, Chris?”

  “Sure, man. You going up there?”

  “Yeah. In six weeks.”

  “No way.”

  Joey B clapped Jake on the shoulder. “Hope you make it back, bro.”

  My head whipped around. Joey B was kidding, right? I couldn’t tell. Jake didn’t answer, just sent him a look and helped me to my feet.

  “Nice to meet you guys,” I said to the others as Jake tugged my hand to go. I wondered if I would ever see them again.

  Jake leaned down and nudged my ear. “Let’s get you out of those clothes, shall we?” Then he hurried me out the door.

  We went back to my place. Our clothes were off before we even left the front hall. I led him upstairs to my bed and showed him just how inspired and impressed I was by him.

  He bent me over the bed and took me from behind, not wanting to wait. I came with the sheets clutched in my hands, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

  We both collapsed on my bed.

  Jake took up most of the mattress, his long limbs sprawled out. I forgot sometimes just how tall and broad he was.

  I fluffed up a pillow and sat up with my back against the headboard. I wanted to look at him. Explore him.

  The man was gorgeous. Sensuous muscle and tanned skin against white sheets. I slid my palm down the length of his back. His skin was smooth and warm, lit by the soft glow of moonlight falling through the windows.

  Scars crisscrossed his body, not just on his legs. I traced them with my fingers. One scar on his left side under his ribs, another on his right arm. His fingers were covered with faint white lines. I leaned down kissed the scar by his lip.

  His body was like a map of his life. Which scars were from war? Which were from the mountains? There was so much I still didn’t know about him. But I wanted to know. I wanted all his secrets. I wanted all of him.

  I wanted him to be mine.

  I only had six more weeks with this man, and I wasn’t going to waste a moment.

  “How did you get this scar by your lip?” I murmured, kissing him again.

  “Dog bit me when I was a kid.”

  “And this one?” I kissed a small scar above his eyebrow.

  “A rock bit me.”

  “Aren’t you ever afraid out there? In the big mountains?”

  “All the time.”

  “Really?”

  He rolled to his side and looked at me. “It’s more like hyperawareness than fear. It makes me sharp. Alive.”

  “Facing death to feel alive.”

  “Not facing death.” He rolled on his back and put his hands behind his head. I traced the thick muscle of his shoulders and arms. He was a sight to behold. Some ancient warrior.

  “It’s impossible to explain.” His voice was tight. “It’s like trying to explain swimming. I can tell you all about the water, about how it’s cold and rolls against your skin. What it feels like to be weightless. But none of that means anything until you actually go swimming yourself.”

  I licked his bicep. “Just try me.”

  The right side of his mouth drew back in a smile. “Want to climb on up here?”

  “Later.” I scooted to the side, wanting him to keep talking.

  He looked up at the ceiling. “Everything is different in the mountains. The wind and the air…you can hear the mountains breathe. And they have moods. They change. They strip everything down to basic elements.”

  “Sounds extraordinary.”

  “It is.” He glanced over at me. “I’m lucky. I’ve found a great team. Most of the guys are guides, and our trips are their time off. There’s no money exchanged. No Sherpas. Although we have lost a few members.”

  I froze. “What happened?” I imagined their dead bodies up on some random mountain peak.

  “Marriage. Fatherhood. Injuries.”

  “One and the same.” I rolled my eyes. “So, um, what do your girlfriends do when you’re away?”

  “I don’t keep someone waiting at home. When I’m gone, I’m gone.”

  “Oh. I…I see.” But I didn’t see. Or I didn’t want to.

  He dropped his hand to my knee, ran it up the length of my bare thigh. Our gazes met, held. “I have a strict policy of not dating anyone when I go on a long trip. I need to be free to concentrate. I can’t think about someone worrying or whatever.”

  “What about when you come back? Do you ever date them again?”

  “Doesn’t work.”

  “No?” I held my breath. I was treading on dangerous territory here.

  He sighed. “I change. They change. Resentment builds up. They ask me not to go away again.”

  “Makes sense.” I pushed the words out. They sounded almost normal. My chest was empty. “What’s the longest relationship you’ve ever been in?”

  “Two years.”

  “What happened?

  He looked up at the ceiling again. “I went away to war.”

  “Oh.”

  I didn’t know what to say, and he was silent. So I curled up at his side. I took his right hand and massaged his thick wrist and forearm. They would be sore from his training.

  He groaned. “That feels good.”

  I wanted to ask him more about his expeditions.

  What was he looking for out there?

  Would he ever find it?

  He turned his head and kissed my shoulder. Then gave me his left arm to massage.

  I wanted to tell him I’d wait for him. That I would never ask him to stop going. But, I didn’t know how long I could live that life. I wanted a man who would be around, not one who disappeared for months at a time. So I didn’t say anything at all.

  I didn’t think he was warning me, exactly, but I did take it that way.

  Don’t come between the man and his mountain.

  Point taken.

  Chapter 26

  Jake

  Hannah had been complaining about the noise at Bloom Yoga. Wednesday, I went to a noon class to see about the disturbance level for myself. The room was packed when I got there, and it seemed she’d been exaggerating the financial toll of the renovation.

  There were hand drums set up in the front of the room. I didn’t see Hannah, but I did see several dudes in the crowd.

  Crystal came out from a back room with two guys in tow. At least I think they were guys. One was wearing zebra-print tights and the other a glitter shirt.

  The guys sat down behind the drums.

  The shrill sound of a drill cut through the room, then quieted, then cut through again. One of my contractors was working on the entryway today. The noise was a disturbance,
I had to agree.

  Crystal glanced back at the drummers, and they started a slow beat. The music covered the sound of my crew.

  “Welcome to noon dance party yoga, where fun is the medicine.” Crystal spread her arms, smiling brightly.

  Hannah slipped in from the side and put her mat down. I caught her eye and winked. Last I’d seen her, she’d been naked and sleeping off another night of awesome sex.

  “Yoga is all about rhythm,” Crystal called out. “Let the drums take you through your sun salutations and inform your breath.”

  We started moving through all sorts of poses. I’d only been to Hannah’s beginner class, and I was in way over my head, even with all our private lessons. The lady next to me looked like she was part dancer, part circus performer. But I followed along the best I could. Crystal was working our butts off and I was tired but pumped up.

  “Another round,” she called out over the drums.

  A young girl behind me dropped an f-bomb, then swore her way through two more sun salutations. I pressed my lips together to keep in my laugh. To each their own—but man, she was worse than my crew.

  After the tree pose, Crystal called out, “Let it go now,” and around me, the class turned into a free-form dance party. Profanity Lady jerked her body like she was kickboxing. I backed up. Cirque de Soleil Lady, doing a snakelike dance, was probably going to get taken out with a roundhouse.

  I turned around to look at Hannah, wondering if she saw what was going on around me. She grinned and wiggled her brows and did some shaking thing with her hips.

  The drums were relentless. Zebra-pants dude was going crazy with it, tattooing out an infectious beat. Even I started moving. No one in the room cared what I was doing, but my crew would laugh their asses off. I double-checked the windows—all clear—and shook out my shoulders.

  I glanced back at Hannah again. Her eyes were closed, and she was rolling her hips and waving her arms. A sex goddess dancing before a fire.

  I was so going to fuck her after class.

  The beat kicked up another notch, and Profanity Lady did a spin kick and dropped more f-bombs and no one cared. She was doing her thing, and that was the point. A guy across the room was jumping as high as he could like a dog trying to see over a fence.

  I spit out a laugh. And another. Until laughter spurted out of me. At the crazy room, at myself, at fucking life. Crystal walked around and sprayed stuff in the air that smelled like flowers and had glitter in it. There was fucking glitter on me. I laughed harder.