by Rhys Everly
Spend time meditating.
Fix things with the family.
That was all of it. I couldn’t let anything else get in my way and risk either my big break or my sobriety. Both were too important to lose.
I sprang out of bed and opened my balcony doors to let the cool breeze in before the temperature rose for the day. It was only eight in the morning, so if I went for breakfast now, I might avoid Dawson.
Or he might have had the same idea and go up early, which meant we’d have to face each other.
My foot tapped on the floor without me realizing, and before I got too worked up, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, counted to ten, and let it all go.
When I opened my eyes again, the solution was right in front of me. I’d have breakfast somewhere else. It was actually the perfect opportunity to explore all the new places in Cedarwood Beach on my own.
Yes, that’s what I was going to do.
And with that thought, I jumped in the shower and got back into my morning routine, burying Dawson to the back of my mind. As I got ready to leave the room, I picked up the festival brochure and walked out the front door and joined the other early risers out and about on the main street.
By the time I was done with breakfast at a new cafe called Coffee Tops that was full of hot baristas that had latte art down to a T, I’d already decided what my next activity was going to be.
There was a yoga class starting in half an hour, and considering I was now addicted to them and wouldn’t be going to Beth’s classes for at least the next two weeks, it was a no-brainer.
The class was being held at the back of the Orangery, a traditional brunch cafe which had been ran by Mrs. Pinkerton back in the day and had a back garden decorated with fairy lights and old china nailed on the walls.
I made my way to the Orangery, and when I got there, I almost changed my mind. There was a big line of elderly ladies and a couple of gents waiting inside to go through the narrow corridor to the back, and the last person in that line was none other than my own grandma.
“Yaya,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
Yaya turned, and her face lit up when she saw me. I’d never seen her in yoga pants before, but there was a first time for everything. Besides, I was glad to see her in shape at her age. If only I can look as fit and athletic when I’m seventy-four, then I’d die a happy man.
“I’m doing the yoga class. What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Same,” I said. “I didn’t know you’re into yoga. That’s so cool, Yaya.”
“Of course. I’ve been into for the past ten years,” she said, and someone else joined the line behind me.
Yaya looked at the person and then at the front of the line and raised her voice.
“For heaven’s sake people, move along.”
“Yaya!” I reprimanded her, but it was impossible not to laugh.
Grandma was a natural and very experienced cat herder at home, and she couldn’t help herself in public, either. As soon as she spoke, the line started to move, and we soon found ourselves in the back garden which hadn’t changed at all since I was last in town. If anything, it’d probably become even tackier.
Everyone stood in front of a yoga mat, and I picked one at the back. I didn’t want to steal anyone’s limelight with my experience, especially if I didn’t know the instructor. As my grandma went to chat with some other women, I grabbed a spot for her next to me and put on an earphone with some soothing music playing and sat down on the mat to do some leg stretches.
I got so lost in my own world, content and happy that I’d found a little spot of heaven to be at peace in, that I didn’t notice when everyone else stood up and started working on the first exercise.
I rushed to get up and looked around for Yaya, but I didn’t see her anywhere.
“You’re doing it wrong, Tina. It’s the other way,” someone said, and I looked at the front.
I found my grandma. And it turned out she was teaching the damned thing.
“Yaya, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Hush now, sweetie. If you can’t keep up, just copy everyone else,” she said.
She got into the next position, which looked wrong, but I didn’t have time to challenge it as another person walked in and took my entire attention.
Dawson Eldred.
What on earth was he doing here? Was he stalking me? He must be stalking me. There’s no way he’d come in this exact class out of the dozens of events and classes taking place in town. Dawson looked around the garden, and I followed his gaze myself. The entire place was full.
Except, of course, for the spot next to me.
My fucking luck. Of course, it would be. Dawson realized it, too, and headed toward me. And then he saw me. He bit his lip in a cute, almost kissable way and ruffled his hair as he stood on the mat next to me. I did my best not to acknowledge him, but it was impossible not to sneak glances his way.
I didn't appreciate the games fate was playing with me.
Focusing on my grandma was the only logical thing I could do, and that was exactly what I did. Everyone was now standing with their legs stretched apart and their arms pointing up to the sky doing the warrior pose. Dawson kept shuffling his feet and waving his hands in an effort to keep his balance.
It wasn’t that hard. Why was he making it harder than it was?
Yaya assumed the next pose, which she called the flagpole pose, but which I knew as Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana, and she balanced on one foot, bringing the other one up to her side and holding her toes with her fingers. When did grandma get so flexible?
As I brought my own leg up, something jabbed my arm, and I turned my head to find out what it was. Dawson's foot, followed by the rest of his body, landed on me, bringing both of us to the ground.
"Are you stupid?" I whisper-shouted.
Yaya continued to hold her pose as did everyone else who was attending the class, so I dusted the grass off myself and got up.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it," Dawson replied as he got up too.
"Whatever," I muttered under my breath and returned my concentration to my grandma, who introduced a new position. The Drag Queen's Split Prayer.
She almost made me laugh. I was starting to question her actual qualifications as there was no such pose, but also, since when did Yaya know what drag queens were and how they split? I did follow her instructions, however, and found the pose familiar.
I sat down on the mat and stretched my legs. When I realized I was sitting face-to-face with Dawson, I had to take a deep breath and remind myself that yoga was my escape.
It became hard to ignore him, though, when we both had to lean forward on our elbows and stretch out because I found my nose buried in Dawson's blond hair that smelled of the guesthouse’s peach shampoo and Dawson's hands resting next to mine.
"Are you doing this on purpose?" I said, and Dawson lifted his head only inches away from my face.
Despite my frustration, I didn’t fail to notice how fruity his hair smelled and how smooth his face was up close.
"Listen, Leo, I'm sorry—" he started to say, but I didn't want to hear any more excuses from him.
I stood up and turned the other way, holding the pose a little bit longer and attempting to get some of the tranquility yoga usually gave me.
Yaya asked us to stand up and stretch out our limbs in a pose she called the Fun Ball. I choked up the urge to laugh. Again. Perhaps that was why she’d given all the poses quirky names. To make it more fun for those not experienced with yoga. And from the looks of it, Dawson wasn't experienced with it at all.
I’d have thought living in New York and having previously lived in LA, the hubs of Eastern appropriation, Dawson would be a pro.
Judging from his fingers touching mine as we both assumed the pose, he was anything but.
This was bullshit. I didn't know if Dawson was doing it on purpose or if he was really that hopeless, and at this point, I didn't care. I just wanted him to sto
p constantly getting in my way.
It took a lot of strength to sit through the entire thing and put up with Dawson's clumsiness and constant intrusions, and when Yaya finally sat down and decided to finish the class with a breathing meditation, I was thankful and also proud of myself for sticking through to the end.
She asked everyone to close their eyes and listen to her voice as she guided us.
I breathed in positivity and breathed out all the negativity. I took in all the wonderful energy of mother nature, and I let out the anger and frustration.
There was a giggle next to me, and I opened one eye. Dawson was choking up trying to do the exercise.
Immature. I shook my head and went back to my breathing, trying to keep Dawson out of my mind. Yet the man next to me was becoming so irritating that I had to breathe in and exhale louder just so that I didn’t have to listen to him.
Soon, I regretted it, because I was out of breath and could still hear the idiot sitting next to me. I opened my eyes and coughed. And Dawson's laughter became louder.
What was he? Twelve?
I knew I could keep going, but this was exhausting me when it was supposed to be relaxing me. So, I got up and walked away, fighting the urge push Dawson to the ground on the way out.
I’d rather read a book or spend some more quality time with my niece instead of coming up with ways to get away with murder.
Once again, I promised myself I wouldn't let Dawson get under my skin. I just hoped, this time, I could keep that promise.
Seven
Dawson
There was some shuffling next to me, and I looked up just in time to watch Leo stomping off like a madman, walking away from the yoga class and out through the narrow corridor of the tiny cafe. I gave up on the meditation and sat down on the yoga mat, watching the instructor take deep breaths and completely unaware of what had happened in the back row.
Not that I was any good at it. Considering I got the giggles two minutes in, there was no point in trying any longer. I wasn't entirely sure what it was, but I couldn't concentrate enough to accomplish anything during the class.
Well, that was a lie, and I was stupid not to admit it to myself. I knew very well why I couldn't concentrate, and it had Leo written all over it.
What had I done?
I was thirty-eight, for crying out loud, not a stupid kid. Yet, I’d acted like one. Not at first, of course. But after accidentally hitting Leo and seeing how much it frustrated him, how much my proximity did things to him that were the complete opposite of what he was doing to me, I lost control of myself and tried to piss him off even more.
But maybe I’d taken it too far. I always lost control of myself around Leo. It’d been like that back in college after we met and fell in love. And even though I’d been in the closet then, too, I still hadn’t been able to resist him. It was as if my body had a physical reaction being next to him that made me lose myself.
“You’re in meadow. You breathe in, and you’re in peace. You breathe out, and all the worry goes up in dust,” the instructor said, and as great as she’d made my first experience with yoga, especially with the funny pose names, I just couldn’t do it anymore.
It was impossible not to worry where my life was concerned and even harder to get any peace if Leo was upset with me.
For the third time in two days, I found myself in need of apologizing to the same guy, and since the count wasn’t going down any time soon, I’d have to start acting on that need.
I got up and left the garden just as my stomach protested. I’d skipped breakfast so that I didn’t bump into Leo, but now, I was regretting it.
It was almost time for lunch, and the longer I walked to get back to the B&B, the hungrier I got.
I passed by a restaurant with deep blue decor and fishnets up on the walls and ceiling. A big sign over the door informed me this was the Oyster Club, and some of their tables were already taken. I let myself in and was seated in a booth with a mostly undisturbed sea view.
The waiter placed the menu in front of me, filled up my water, and left me to decide on lunch.
There was a blue circle around one dish, and in block capital letters said that this was their special.
It was called the pearl stew and included mussels, potatoes, and king prawns in a lemon and white wine sauce. The description made my mouth water, so once the waiter was back, I placed my order, along with a beer from the local brewery.
This trip was proving more of a challenge than I’d have thought, and that wasn’t an entirely bad thing. Seeing Leo again was definitely unexpected, but it was good after all these years. It gave me a chance to try and make up for the past and my mistakes. And the present ones too.
I had promised Summer to join them on their butterfly tour, so maybe that would be the perfect chance to do it. He wouldn’t dare snap at me in front of his niece, so he’d have less ammunition to use against me.
The sea, the view, and my own thoughts distracted me long enough to not notice when the waiter sat someone else at the booth next to mine. Only they did notice me. And they weren’t happy.
“You gotta be kidding me. Are you following me or something?” Leo exclaimed when the waiter left.
I let out a sigh. Just when things were starting to be peaceful. Why was Leo always so angry? I know what I’d done was unacceptable, but it was years ago. We’d both moved on and found success. Why couldn’t he let it go? Or did he simply hate me that much?
“Technically, I was here first. So your statement is wrong,” I said.
“Whatever, dude. Whatever,” Leo said and turned his head around to his own booth.
I reluctantly turned to my front, too, and tried to get him out of my mind, but now it was harder than ever before. Despite my best efforts, all I could hear was his tapping nails on the table, all I could smell was the mix of deodorant and sweat from his workout, and all I felt on the back of my neck was that tingling sensation you got when someone was close to you.
My dick hardened in my pants, and I bit my lip before I could swear at the damned thing. Of all the times to awaken, this wasn’t the best. But I guess better now that I was seated waiting for food than during yoga. That would have been humiliating.
“What can I get for you?” the waiter asked behind me, and I leaned back to listen to the details I didn’t need, but which I was too weak to not try and hear.
“I’ll have the pearl stew and a large Coke, please,” Leo said, and his voice was intoxicating, a melody in my ears.
Without meaning to, I brushed the tip of my cock through my pants, and that made it jolt.
Fuck. I shouldn’t have done that. I’d never ever done that. Not in public for sure. The danger of getting my shots snapped by paparazzi had always kept me on my best behavior. I couldn’t even imagine the shame if anyone got me in the tabloids touching myself in public.
“Right away,” the waiter said, and his shoes tapped away from the table.
I put both my hands firmly on the table and consciously warded off everything that made me want to turn around and kiss the hell out of the guy that had stolen my heart once.
The shoes approached again.
“Here’s your Cola. I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid we’ve run out of the pearl stew. We won’t have another batch ready for at least an hour. Is there anything else I can get for you?”
Leo huffed and snapped the menu from the waiter before he changed his order to something else. Just then, a waitress arrived at my table and put down my dish.
“Here’s your pearl stew. Would you like any fixings?” she asked.
I shook my head, and she left my table. The dish was served in a casserole on a wooden platter with some bread on the side and smelled divine.
Maybe I could apologize now. I could offer him my stew and let that be the figurative olive branch between us. As much as I salivated by the smell and sight alone, I grabbed the platter and turned around.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Leo sai
d, his face right on mine.
“What are—”
“You’ve gotta take everything for yourself. First my career, then my table, my yoga class, and now my stew. Why don’t you take my family, too, and get it over with already?” he said, raising his voice.
Fuck. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were screaming bloody murder. I didn’t want him to be so upset. Why was he getting so worked up over a meal?
But of course, it wasn’t about the meal. It was about that time years ago. My broken promise. Leaving him behind. Never stopping to explain. That’s what it was all about. And it was as fresh for him now as it was back then. It was equal parts justified and sad. Yes, I had betrayed him. I’d abandoned him in more ways than one, but it was also so long ago. So fucking long. I was a different man now. I was a man. And so was he.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really didn’t. I—” I started to say, but it all came out a jumble of words even I couldn’t comprehend.
“This is my town, Dawson. My town. Stop acting like you own everything. You’re not all that,” Leo said, stood up, and stormed out of the restaurant.
The waiter looked at me and then at the door. I had no idea how much of it he’d heard, but I could tell he also wanted to run after Leo.
“Add his check to mine,” I told him, and he nodded.
I sat back against the seat and looked at the pearl stew. It wasn’t appetizing anymore. But I had to eat. Get some strength for what I was about to do later.
My work was cut out for me, and I had far more apologizing to do than I originally thought. And I had no fucking clue where to start. How did I make up for the fact that I’d stolen Leo’s moment and ran with it like a motherfucker? How did I start apologizing, especially when I hadn’t quite forgiven myself yet?
Eight
Leo
I couldn’t believe that asshole and his behavior. Poisoning everything he touched, everywhere he went. Was it stupid I’d snapped over a freaking stew? Hell yes. Did I regret it? Hell no.