“Now breathe deep,” the yoga instructor intoned, his voice deep and soothing.
Kimberly snuck a peek out the corner of her eye. Neat dark brown hair, arresting green eyes, a sexy little cleft in his chin… He was far more muscular than most of the men who taught, and he wore sweat shorts instead of tight leggings. Nelson. She’d seen him around the studio for about a month now, and tonight he was substituting for the usual Friday night instructor.
She’d thought he would be distracting, and she was right; she couldn’t concentrate on a damn thing. She looked over at her best friend and saw that Samuel was staring at the floor, his curly blond hair looking like he’d stuck his finger in a socket, his face a mask of concentration.
Kimberly choked back a laugh, wobbled and then quickly regained her balance. She knew Samuel, and he didn’t take yoga that seriously; his game face could only mean that he was trying to avoid thoughts that might lead to an embarrassing erection. Her best friend claimed to be bisexual, but she’d only ever seen him openly lust after men.
Which was a shame because if he was even the least bit into women…
“And exhale.” Nelson walked slowly between the thin rubber mats, suggesting an arm adjustment here, a leg shift there.
And here he comes. Kimberly stared straight ahead and tried to embody peace.
“Good,” Nelson murmured as he squatted near her. “You have a knee injury, right? Does this pose cause any pain?”
“No,” she said, her voice closer to a grunt than she liked. Not very ladylike. “Haven’t had trouble in a while.”
“Glad to hear it.” Nelson rose and continued his inspection of the students. Kimberly was impressed—he’d read their files before the class. That was dedication. She turned her head and saw Samuel shooting her a dirty look. “You bitch,” he mouthed.
Kimberly bit back another laugh. “He’s worried about my wellbeing,” she whispered. “Guess I win.”
The woman in front of her, a rich, thin, middle-aged woman whose face looked like she was sucking a lemon, glared at Kimberly.
“Take another breath and, if you can, stretch as you exhale. Only if you can. This isn’t a competition, my friends.”
Kimberly edged deeper into the pose and tried not to imagine Nelson’s voice murmuring dirty fantasies into her ear.
Half an hour later, Nelson dismissed the class. Exhausted men and women struggled to their feet. “My hamstrings feel tight,” Samuel said louder than he needed to. “Think I’ll just take a few extra minutes.”
They always walked home together, so that meant Kimberly was stuck there, too, unless she wanted to brave an hour in the dark streets alone. She scooted over to Samuel’s mat and smacked at his iron-hard thigh until he moved over. “Nelson is straight,” she whispered as she released her waist-length brown hair from its ponytail.
“No way.”
“Bet.”
Samuel held up a pinky, and they linked fingers. They didn’t need to discuss the terms of the stakes because they always wagered the same thing: dinner and a movie. They hung out all the time. Everyone in their office thought they were a couple.
Kimberly would have been up for it, but Samuel had trotted out his I’m bisexual but currently only looking for a good man line early and often, so she’d technically crossed him off her list.
Nelson stood near the window, a towel around his neck. Kimberly bit her knuckles. “So hot.”
“Watch a master in action.” Samuel jumped up and went over to Nelson. Kimberly couldn’t hear the conversation, but from the way Nelson inclined his neck and furrowed his brow, she guessed Samuel was going for some sort of pity angle.
They both looked over at her, and Kimberly’s face heated. Nelson nodded, said something, and Samuel hurried back. He continued his hamstring stretch.
“You look like the cat that ate the canary.”
“Not yet, but I’ll get my bird.” He wiggled his
Kimberly snuck a peek out the corner of her eye. Neat dark brown hair, arresting green eyes, a sexy little cleft in his chin… He was far more muscular than most of the men who taught, and he wore sweat shorts instead of tight leggings. Nelson. She’d seen him around the studio for about a month now, and tonight he was substituting for the usual Friday night instructor.
She’d thought he would be distracting, and she was right; she couldn’t concentrate on a damn thing. She looked over at her best friend and saw that Samuel was staring at the floor, his curly blond hair looking like he’d stuck his finger in a socket, his face a mask of concentration.
Kimberly choked back a laugh, wobbled and then quickly regained her balance. She knew Samuel, and he didn’t take yoga that seriously; his game face could only mean that he was trying to avoid thoughts that might lead to an embarrassing erection. Her best friend claimed to be bisexual, but she’d only ever seen him openly lust after men.
Which was a shame because if he was even the least bit into women…
“And exhale.” Nelson walked slowly between the thin rubber mats, suggesting an arm adjustment here, a leg shift there.
And here he comes. Kimberly stared straight ahead and tried to embody peace.
“Good,” Nelson murmured as he squatted near her. “You have a knee injury, right? Does this pose cause any pain?”
“No,” she said, her voice closer to a grunt than she liked. Not very ladylike. “Haven’t had trouble in a while.”
“Glad to hear it.” Nelson rose and continued his inspection of the students. Kimberly was impressed—he’d read their files before the class. That was dedication. She turned her head and saw Samuel shooting her a dirty look. “You bitch,” he mouthed.
Kimberly bit back another laugh. “He’s worried about my wellbeing,” she whispered. “Guess I win.”
The woman in front of her, a rich, thin, middle-aged woman whose face looked like she was sucking a lemon, glared at Kimberly.
“Take another breath and, if you can, stretch as you exhale. Only if you can. This isn’t a competition, my friends.”
Kimberly edged deeper into the pose and tried not to imagine Nelson’s voice murmuring dirty fantasies into her ear.
Half an hour later, Nelson dismissed the class. Exhausted men and women struggled to their feet. “My hamstrings feel tight,” Samuel said louder than he needed to. “Think I’ll just take a few extra minutes.”
They always walked home together, so that meant Kimberly was stuck there, too, unless she wanted to brave an hour in the dark streets alone. She scooted over to Samuel’s mat and smacked at his iron-hard thigh until he moved over. “Nelson is straight,” she whispered as she released her waist-length brown hair from its ponytail.
“No way.”
“Bet.”
Samuel held up a pinky, and they linked fingers. They didn’t need to discuss the terms of the stakes because they always wagered the same thing: dinner and a movie. They hung out all the time. Everyone in their office thought they were a couple.
Kimberly would have been up for it, but Samuel had trotted out his I’m bisexual but currently only looking for a good man line early and often, so she’d technically crossed him off her list.
Nelson stood near the window, a towel around his neck. Kimberly bit her knuckles. “So hot.”
“Watch a master in action.” Samuel jumped up and went over to Nelson. Kimberly couldn’t hear the conversation, but from the way Nelson inclined his neck and furrowed his brow, she guessed Samuel was going for some sort of pity angle.
They both looked over at her, and Kimberly’s face heated. Nelson nodded, said something, and Samuel hurried back. He continued his hamstring stretch.
“You look like the cat that ate the canary.”
“Not yet, but I’ll get my bird.” He wiggled his
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