Arilyn sighed and took out the casserole. Grabbing some plates, she began slicing pieces for each of them. “Maybe.”
Kate laughed. “Wow, he really did get to you. Normally you’d tell us to mind our own business and you’d never involve yourself with just sex.”
“She’s opening up to new opportunities,” Kennedy said. “Which is a perfect introduction to the real reason we’re here.”
Arilyn gave out the plates and forks, then dug in for a bite. “Now I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. We just brought you an outfit to wear on Friday night.”
Suspicion laced her voice. “I already have an outfit.”
Kennedy shuddered. “I know. It’s unacceptable. Boring. You’re gorgeous and need to play up your assets. No yoga pants allowed.”
“I’m not wearing leather or fur, and you can’t make me.”
“Fake leather,” Kennedy pointed out. “And you need to show some leg. You never wear skirts.”
Gen giggled. “She’s right, A. If there’s going to be exotic dancers, you need to expose some skin. You’re gonna love what Ken picked out.”
Arilyn groaned. “I am so not ready for this.”
Kate sighed. “Neither am I.”
Kennedy smiled. “This bachelorette party is gonna be epic.”
They all shared a glance. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Arilyn said.
Then they all burst into laughter.
Ten
HANDS REACHING HIGH, palms together, and sweep down to the ground. Touch the floor. Deep breath in and right foot back. Lift the heel if you can. Inhale and release left. Hold. Fully exhale aaaand push back to plank pose. Hold for a breath. Lower down, chin touches mat, push back to Downward Dog. Hold. Breathe. Lower back down aaaand right foot all the way to your palms. Walk it forward if you have to. Inhale and left foot steps in. Rise back up, full breath in and out. Beautiful. Let’s do it again.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She was hot as sin and the spawn of the devil. An enchantress of death. Because if he had to do this fucking Salutation to the Moon or whatever the hell it was one more time, he was gonna die of a heart attack.
Dying of smoking was so much more pleasant.
He shot a sidelong glare at his prison mates. Luther embraced the punishment, pushing through the routine with a tiny smile on his face. Seemed he was reading up on yoga and meditation practices and was consistently adding educational side notes to Arilyn’s lecture. She seemed to love it, too.
Eli was more manlike, but he liked to mess up to get her hands on him. At least, Arilyn didn’t seem interested. Her touch was strictly impersonal, and her chats with him after class were brief. He knew, because he waited for her after class. Insisted on walking her to the car, citing her past broken windshield as the reason. Just in case she had a stalker who liked to vandalize. Maybe a previous anger management client.
She laughed it off, but Stone knew she liked their chats/fights. In those few moments together, they covered a lot of territory.
They didn’t agree on much. Politics, hobbies, likes, and dislikes were a mess. She disliked TV and he lived for it. She read self-help, and he preferred horror novels. He hated dogs, and she helped them. He had a sweet tooth, and she preferred fruit for her fix. He was unorganized and loud. She was ruthlessly neat and soft-spoken.
A real mess.
He still wanted her in his bed, though. But if she kept up the physical torture, he might not make it.
Stone did another round, and she blessedly called to sit back on their mats. Trying not to huff and puff, he took in her glowing face, bright eyes, and blinding aura. At least, he thought it was an aura. He’d been daydreaming when she discussed anger as blurring a person’s aura and fogging their vision, but it was as if a glow followed her, confirming her goodness. In her yoga pants, bare feet, and tiny tank, her muscles and lithe limbs made his mouth water. She was comfortable in her skin, which tempted him as a lover. How rare to meet a woman who seemingly had no body issues. Who wore no makeup, who used no trappings to hide. It was like she’d come to terms with what she had, her limitations and strengths, and accepted them with an open heart.
Ah, crap, now he was starting to think like her. He needed to get a grip.
“Grab some water and let’s come into a circle.”
He hated circle time. Trying not to mope, he took a long swig of water and sat on the godforsaken mat. Why, oh why did she hate real seating? What was this thing about being on the floor all the time? He’d learn better in a chair.
She shot him a mischievous grin when he carefully stretched out his legs and tried not to wince. “You okay, Stone?”
He shot her a warning glare. “Just peachy.”
Minx. If she gave him the chance, he’d tire her in other ways.
“I’d like to do some sharing before we break for the day.”
Oh, goody. His favorite. Sharing.
Eli and Luther sat cross-legged, ready to open themselves up and bleed in the name of healing. Stone tried not to gag.
“Have you been writing in the journals I gave out?” she asked. Back ramrod straight, ankles crossed on opposite knees, thumbs and index fingers touching in circles, she radiated everything beautiful about yoga and peace and harmony. But all he could think of was her beaded nipples against her tank, the heat between her thighs, and the way her hair wrapped around her body in a sensual cloak. He grunted and shifted his position, trying to get his erection down.
Luther nodded. “I write in the morning, as you suggested. I read this book once called The Artist’s Way, and one of the tasks was to keep morning pages. By dumping out all our random thoughts and fears for the day, we’re able to get out of our own way.”