The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) Page 13
“I’ve gone to a class at the Y a few dozen times,” Lucy said, hearing the defensiveness in her voice.
Mary patted her on the shoulder. “If it hurts, don’t go there.”
“I won’t.”
They began with a long period of closed-eye meditation that had Lucy yawning uncontrollably. The only reason she’d said she was coming to the class was to get rid of Alex the night before, and now there they were.
She opened her eyes a crack and studied him. He had a nice profile, a strong chin, a healthy body. He had a nice sprinkling of brown hair on his arms and legs, and strong-looking hands and feet.
He was well-educated, ambitious, had a good job, wanted kids. If he’d had drug or gambling or mental problems, Fawn wouldn’t have set them up.
Perfect in so many ways.
The door opened, bringing in a gust of cold, damp air and a large, damp man. Wearing a fleece sweatshirt and jeans, Miles met her gaze from the doorway for a moment before he bent over to unlace his boots.
Lucy’s heart began to pound. She turned back to the front of the room and squeezed her eyes shut, but she could still see him in her imagination—the combed-back hair just out of the shower, the calm intelligence in his eyes, the hint of a smile on the lips she’d tasted just the day before.
She had to admit it. Her hormones were jonesing for the wrong guy. It was like her web browser kept sending her to the wrong link. No matter how many times she clicked “Alex,” her body redirected her to “Miles.”
She had to look at him again.
“Nice jeans,” Alex muttered, turning back to the front of the room.
“Should I change?” Miles asked Mary. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Well… why don’t you stay and we’ll see. Once you go, you might be reluctant to come back. Getting here is so often the biggest challenge.”
“Great.” Miles grabbed a mat and strode over to Lucy’s other side, ignoring Alex. “Morning.”
She felt her face flood with heat. Closing her eyes, she ducked her head and told her respiratory system to calm the hell down. “Morning.”
He unrolled the mat and fell down on top of it with a grunt. After manually arranging his legs into a cross-legged position, forcing his knees down with his big hands, he swore under his breath. “Sorry. Sore from a run. Don’t mind me.”
“Maybe you need a recovery day,” Alex said.
“I thought yoga might be the perfect thing to loosen me up.” Miles looked up at the teacher, excessive innocence in his gray eyes. “Is yoga good for flexibility?”
“Absolutely. Just give it time.” Mary beamed at him with evangelical good cheer. “Take it slow and you’ll find yoga is a path away from injury.”
“Sounds good to me,” Miles said. “Batter up.”
Lucy folded her lips between her teeth to hide another smile.
Alex exhaled loudly through his mouth, sucked in more air, let out another one.
“You can get started now,” Miles said. “I’m ready.”
“We already started,” Alex said tightly.
“Really? Awesome. I can do this.”
He sounded so sincere and looked so proud to sit cross-legged on the floor; Lucy caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled at him. He had such a friendly face, broad and open, nothing pinched or held back. When he smiled back at her, a dimple flashed in his left cheek and she gazed at it for a long moment.
Smiling, Mary settled herself in front of them. “Wonderful. Now, reach your hands forward and stretch to the top of your mat, keeping your sitz bones grounded—”
“Sit bone?” Miles bent forward, but just barely. His arms pointed rigidly ahead like a kid learning how to dive.
Alex stopped pretending to be self-contained. “Miles, if you think this is so funny, maybe you should leave.”
A quick frown passed over Mary’s face. “We’ve got a place for everyone here. Nobody should be worried about what his or her neighbor is doing.” She got up and went over to Miles, touched his shoulder. “That’s it. You just need a little support.” She padded off to the racks behind them and returned with two large cork blocks. She set them under Miles’s hands.
Alex snorted.
Mary shot him another displeased look.
Miles appeared to be making a genuine effort to fold himself forward, then from side to side as Mary instructed, and didn’t say another word. Nevertheless, Lucy could feel the tension building in the room like a kettle over the stove.
The next postures had them on their hands and knees, and that was no problem. They all arched their backs and hunched themselves over and breathed as Mary told them, Alex with obvious enthusiasm, exhaling his air out with a hunh that was so loud Lucy glanced at Miles to see what he would do. He caught her eye and winked.
Hunh! Alex went again, and Lucy had to bite her lip and stare at her hands pressing into the mat to stop herself from laughing out loud.
Hunh!
The laugh burst out of her. Alex swung his head sideways to look at her in dismay.
“Sorry,” she said, swallowing air and staring at the floor again.
She kept it together for another few minutes, even during the Modified Plank, and then Child’s Pose—for which Miles required the addition of another pair of blocks under his forehead.
But then came Downward Facing Dog.
Miles watched Alex, Lucy, and Mary position themselves, then tried to lift his own butt in the air. He didn’t come close to looking like an upside-down V; his knees were bent, his head was lifted, and his chest was parallel to the floor.
“Woof,” he said. “Does this work for you?”
Mary stood up from her own pose, went over to him, tried stack the blocks higher so he could straighten his legs. “It’s not what works for me, it’s what works for you.”
He grunted, dropping his knees to the floor. “Maybe I’m more of a caterpillar. Is there a caterpillar pose?”
She touched his broad back and smiled. “We’ll do Cobra in a minute.”
Should the instructor be touching one of her students so much? It’s not like she could imbue his body with flexibility through the power of her skinny little fingers. And why did she keep smiling at him?
Lucy’s thoughts continued along these lines throughout Triangle Pose and all the Warriors. It was like Mary chose poses she knew Miles wouldn’t be able to do so she’d have to stroke his big, strong, inflexible muscles. And then get him hot and sweaty so he had to take off the bulky sweatshirt, exposing the thin, skimpy T-shirt he wore underneath.
His jeans strained against his thighs, his back stretched the jersey of the T-shirt, his strong arms lifted over his head. He looked like Atlas himself.
Lucy lost her balance and fell to her hands and knees.
“Listen to your body,” Mary said.
The instructor might have been surprised to know what Lucy’s body was saying; it had nothing to do with yoga. Lucy got back to her feet and tried to balance with her legs three feet apart. Just don’t look at him.
They folded over and got down into Plank Pose, which was a little more than Lucy’s arms were up to. She slumped down to her knees and then flopped onto her belly.
In spite of Miles’s jokes about being a caterpillar, he wasn’t having any trouble with holding himself off the ground in the Plank’s pushup position. His broad shoulders flexed with muscle and his legs stretched out behind him, firm and immobile.
From her bellyflop position on the floor, Lucy watched Mary with narrowed eyes to see if she would find an excuse to go touch him again. “Readjust” him.
Hunh!
Lucy looked over at Alex, caught him looking at her, and smiled politely.
“Try Child’s Pose if you need a rest,” he said.
“I’m fine right here.” She closed her eyes and put her cheek on the mat, forced to listen to Mary’s footsteps pass by her and hover next to Miles again. Hussy Pose.
Okay, you’ve officially lost it, Lucy.
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br /> She joined in with the rest of the positions as well as she could, grateful when they moved onto their backs for leg stretches and twists, and she could stare at the ceiling instead of at Miles’s body. And later, when they went limp, closed their eyes, drifted off into a state of total relaxation.
Yeah, right.
As soon as Mary told them to wiggle their fingers, Lucy got to her feet and rolled up her mat. Miles was still sprawled out on his back next to her, a peaceful calm on his face, and she felt a powerful urge to adjust him.
He opened his eyes, those smiling gray eyes, and made a face. “I think I’m stuck.”
Before Mary could rush over to help, Lucy bent over and held out her hand. “Here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You got superpowers I don’t know about?”
“Try me.”
He grinned and her stomach did a chaturanga. “I will.” He lifted one hand, put it in hers, and pulled. She tumbled forward and landed on top of him, her face in the crook of his shoulder and her butt in the air. “Whoops,” he said.
“Déjà vu,” she muttered. She could feel his heart pounding under her cheek, smell him.
“Ah, French. The language of love,” he said softly in her ear.
Her free hand in the middle of his huge chest, she pushed herself up to kneel next to him, unable to look away from his face. His sensuous mouth was curved up in a smile, but his eyes were serious and dark.
Alex appeared on his other side. “How the mighty have fallen.” He grabbed Miles’s opposite shoulder and rolled him over onto his side, facing away from Lucy. “Yoga’s not for everyone.”
The hem of Miles’s sweatshirt had risen up, exposing the base of his spine and the hint of two dimples above the waistband of his jeans.
The blood rushed out of Lucy’s head. She stumbled onto her feet and carried the mat over to the rack, her mouth dry.
Holy Moses.
“Are you all right?” Mary asked her.
Nope. “A little lightheaded.”
“That’s normal. Go slow. Drink lots of water. Remember your breath.”
“Right.” Lucy inhaled deeply. “Thank you.”
She couldn’t look at him or it would be obvious. Exaggerating her weariness, Lucy put her hand to her head and caught Alex’s eye. “I’m going back to my cabin to, uh, hold on to this feeling for a while. See you later.” With a vague wave, she fled out of the building into the chilly morning and began to run.
Chapter 12
MILES LEFT THE YOGA STUDIO before Alex could say anything that would lead to violence.
One thing: he was glad he’d worn jeans instead of the shrink-wrapped number Alex had on because he’d been fighting a hard-on for twenty minutes.
Damn, the feel of her when she landed on top of him…
Where did she go? He stepped out onto the path and looked around, but she was gone. Not eager to continue what they’d started. Afraid.
At least she was beginning to realize how wrong Alex would be for her. The more time she spent with him, the better.
No, the more time she spent with Miles, the better.
He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and set off into the woods before Alex would catch up with him for another little chat.
Where would she have run off to? She probably sensed he was going to hunt her down, which would eliminate her cabin as a hiding spot. The lodge was getting crowded; every day, more and more guests arrived, lingering there, especially in the morning for a quick cup of coffee.
He yawned, feeling a tightness behind his eyeballs. He could use a shot of caffeine himself. Maybe she’d be desperate for java, too.
As soon as he stepped inside the lodge he knew he’d guessed correctly. Her black hood was pulled up over her distinctive hair, but he recognized her dark, pear-shaped silhouette entering the gift shop past the sitting area.
His body responded optimistically. He tried to relax, but he’d spent the last hour stealing glimpses of her round ass and perky breasts bouncing around right next to him on the floor and it was impossible to pretend he wasn’t halfway to heaven.
He caught up to her by the refrigerated case across from the cash register. The store was only about ten square feet, with the usual sweatshirts and hats and postcards displayed on the walls and a few shelves of toiletries and snacks in the middle. The staffer at the cash register was ringing up all the purchases but explaining to Fawn’s mother that no payments were necessary.
“For God’s sake, I wish they’d put up a sign or something,” Geri said to Lucy, putting her wallet back into her purse. She had a bottle of water and a small box of condoms, which she quickly shoved into her purse after the wallet. “I could’ve stashed them away without making such a scene.”
Lucy laughed. “I think it’s cute you met somebody.”
Miles wondered what kind of guy would send his woman out to buy condoms at eight in the morning.
“Cute? Have I gotten so old that it’s cute I have sex?” Shaking her head, Geri went over to the shelves, helped herself to a box of crackers and a bottle of wine, and went back to the register. “Wait until you meet him. ‘Cute’ isn’t the word.”
Lucy still hadn’t noticed Miles standing in the doorway behind her. “When does he get here?” She sounded amused.
“Not sure. He has to get time off work.”
“One box enough?” Lucy asked.
Geri swung around, looking like she had a retort on her lips, but froze when she noticed Miles. Lucy hesitated, then turned slowly and saw him.
“Morning, yogi,” he said, then nodded his head to Geri. “Mother of the bride.”
“Aren’t you a vision,” Geri said. “I was just telling Lucy here how cute it is to have sex.”
Lucy gasped.
“Now we’re even.” Geri thanked the cashier for the items she’d bagged up and smiled at Miles on her way out.
Lucy turned her back to him and thunked her bottle of water and apple on the counter.
He grabbed the closest thing to him—a crystal window decoration—and joined her at the register. “Nice lady.”
“Very.”
“Fawn’s parents been divorced a long time?”
“Since fifth grade. Right before we met.”
“I didn’t realize you’d known each other so long. That explains a lot.”
She frowned at him, clutching her purchase to her chest. “What does it explain?”
“How a supermodel and an analyzing processor would be best friends.”
“Process analyst.”
He grinned. “Right.” He handed his crystal thingie to the cashier and hoped she didn’t take too long wrapping it up.
But Lucy was already out the door. “Sorry, never mind,” he told the cashier, abandoning it there to run after Lucy.
“Sorry to rush off, Miles, but I’ve got an appointment in a few minutes.”
He strode after her through the lodge and out the door. “What kind of appointment?”
“Massage. Then a facial. I’ll probably just sleep the rest of the day.”
“Aren’t the massages in the buildings back there? Near yoga?”
She stopped and looked through the trees behind him, shook her head. “Yes, of course. Silly of me.” Without meeting his eyes, she scurried past him in the opposite direction.
“You know, I’ve never had a facial,” he said. “Does it hurt?”
She dug her hands into her pockets. “Only when you pay for it.”
“Do you do it to yourself, or is there help?”
She ducked her head under the hood and kept walking, but he thought she might be laughing a little.
“Can I come?” he asked.
After a pause, she stopped and glanced up at him. Her cheeks were pink, her green eyes bright but wary. “Why?”
“I have a face, don’t I?”
She bit her lip, studying him. “You do.”
He took a step closer. Not for the first time in his life, he wished he weren’t so
damn tall. Trying not to look obvious, he bent his knees a little. “Think they’ll know what to do with it?”
“Y—” She cleared her throat. “Yes, I imagine they will.”
One of her coppery curls had escaped her hood and was poking her in the eye. Slowly, not breathing, he lifted his hand and brushed it aside with the tip of his index finger. Her skin was buttery soft. Warm.
“I don’t want to be late,” she said, but didn’t move.
He kept his hand near her cheek, feeling huge and clumsy, and looked for something in her expression that would give him permission to touch her some more.
But she stepped back and turned away, and Miles felt the opportunity evaporate like the haze overhead. Nevertheless he said, “Would you like to have lunch with me?” and waited a long moment before she slowed her steps and glanced back.
“I can’t.”
“Dinner?”
She smiled but shook her head. “I should probably eat with Alex. To make up for last night.”
“A hike this afternoon, then.”
“Miles—”
“You’ve got to do something. Might as well be with me. I’m sure you like Alex a lot, really I’m sure you do, but you probably don’t want to spend the entire day with him.” Her mouth dropped open to protest, so he hurried on. “Until after you’re married. Then you won’t be able to spend a minute apart, of course. You wouldn’t want to.”
“Just because—” She crossed her arms over her chest, lips in a flat line. “That’s not the kind of relationship I was looking for anyway.”
Maybe it should be. “How about three this afternoon?”
They stared at each other a couple of seconds too long. He felt his body respond with excessive hope, especially when she said, “Have to do something, I guess. All right.”
He smiled. “I’ll come by your cabin.”
“I can meet you at the West Side trailhead. It’s on the map.”
“I’ll come by your cabin at three.”
“It’s out of your way. We can just meet there,” she said.
“I’ll be at your cabin.”
She rolled her eyes but was fighting a smile. “Yes, Camp Leader.”