“Go to your safe spot. Breathe into it. Remember that here you are protected, you are perfect, and you are loved.”

Nick’s words roll around and around in my head as I toss and turn in bed.

You are protected.

I haven’t been protected a day in my life. Not from my mother’s wrath or my father’s endless—and unmet—expectations. To both of them, I’m just the pathetic daughter they were stuck with. Hannon had been their pride and joy, until they found out he was gay and living with his boyfriend, Sean. Then they destroyed his life by threatening to ruin Sean’s.

You are perfect.

Far from it, Nick. I groan and turn over onto my side, looking out the window. The moon is high and shining into my room, casting gray streaks of light onto my bed. I sit up and shove off the covers. My skin reacts with gooseflesh at the sudden chill, but I don’t mind the cold. At least I can feel it. Tonight, I can feel everything—the sadness and grief, which swallows me whole, threatening to drown me. It anchors my heart with concrete cinderblocks while I attempt and fail at wading through this thing called life.

With heavy footsteps, I go to my special spot. Just like Nick suggested. Mine isn’t all that special and comforting, but the window seat in my childhood room still beckons. Countless nights I’ve spent sitting here, knees to my chest, staring out at the world, imagining all I could be. Useless dreams of a child. Where would I go to school? Who would I marry? What friends would I make outside of these walls? When would I leave this life behind?

Twenty-six years old, and I’m still sitting in my window seat, wishing for a life I don’t deserve. One I don’t even know how to fight to have. Because my mother is right. I’m nothing. I’m certainly not perfect as Nick suggested we all are in class tonight.

Nick.

The unusually tall Italian yogi had every nerve in my body flaring white hot. I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to a man. Sure, I’ve been hit on, dated a few boys in college—one I even gave my virginity to—but nothing serious. Once a man finds out what kind of family I have, the fact that no one is good enough for a Carmichael, they leave. Unless, of course, he’s part of the mighty one percent or the good ole boys club, where my father sits at the top of the heap. If a man is not one of them, he might as well move on. And they all do. Every last one of them has.

It’s been years since I’ve had a man in my life in any capacity. My last year in college, I put pedal to the metal and blew my studies out of the water. I was Valedictorian, with the highest GPA in the class, and still my parents didn’t flinch. Nothing made them proud. Maybe, if I become the prima donna charitable guru and socialite party planner like my mother, they might even hug me.

Do I want to be touched by them? Not anymore. I’ve long since lost any desire to make my mother and father happy. Only, somehow by not caring what they thought, I stopped caring about me and my goals and dreams. Now I don’t have any.

You are loved.

Remembering the last line Nick said before I lost my cool in class tonight makes me cringe. I can just barely see the ugly scowl on my face through the reflection in the window. It’s as unpleasant as my thoughts right now.

Loved is what I was when Hannon was alive. There’s no one to love me now. No one who cares if I exist at all. I could take my life, and all that would happen is my mother would hold another charity event in my honor. Squawk to all her friends how, as twins, we couldn’t be without one another and that I’d never been the same since Hannon passed. That part is true. I’m not the same. Though, even when my brother was alive, I wasn’t anything special.

What does it take to become special?

I dig for the journal and pencil I’ve hidden under the plush cushion of the window seat and open it to the next available page.

---

This yoga room is different from the one I was in last week. It’s smaller, more cozy, with candles and a beautiful mural of a forest along one wall. Since Nick’s class, I’ve held up in my room, reading, journaling, and thinking about the sex-on-legs yoga instructor. I even Googled him and found out that he not only teaches yoga a handful of times per week, he owns and operates Sal’s Gym & Fitness Center. I saved all of the pictures of him from his bio on the Lotus House website and the enticing photos of him boxing and teaching on the other website. Hands down, the man is fit, healthy, and makes my heart pound a million beats a minute. Because of said pounding, I decided to skip going to his class until I could get a handle on my inner freak. That didn’t mean I didn’t want to do yoga, so here I sit on my mat, waiting to start a class called Vinyasa Flow with a woman named Grace.

Yesterday, I spent a long time refreshing the henna I’d placed over my scars. I even added it to the marks on my outer right thigh in case anyone sees me shower or change in the ladies locker room. For me, it’s always been better to be prepared than to have to answer any questions. Besides, I think the ink looks pretty, and I’ve gotten really good at it.

Feeling a tad more confident when I see tatted-up patrons strutting around in just shorts and bralettes, I remove my bulky hoodie. I’ve chosen a brilliant green tank this time that seemed cheerier than the drab black and taupe colors I wear around Mother. Maybe I’ll go online and pick up a few more outfits if yoga is going to become a regular thing.

No. Go out and shop for clothing. Get out of the house, Honor. That’s what Dr. Hart would suggest.

I nod to myself and sit quietly in lotus pose while the people around me get situated. A bright-blue mat lands a couple feet to my right, jarring me out of my peaceful contemplation about where I could find yoga clothes like the ones I see on the ladies here.

“Hey, Dove,” a deep, low voice calls out, sending a tremor of recognition through my veins.

To my right, I find Nick pulling off his shirt. He raises it slowly, allowing each brick of his abdominal muscles to make an appearance one toned slab at a time. I lick my lips, wondering what it would taste like to run my tongue through the lines of each indentation. My sex feels heavy as I imagine running my fingers along his square pecs before licking and sucking each of his nipples. I’ve never done that to a man. I’m ill-experienced in the bedroom. The dozen times I’ve had sex, I allowed the man to basically get me naked and do his thing. I’ve never even achieved an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced, and I rarely indulge in that pastime. I’m too lost in my own head and unhappiness. This man, though, brings all kinds of tawdry, sexual ideas to the surface.

Nick tosses his T-shirt on the floor near his mat. He thumbs the waistline of his track pants, and I swallow. As if putting on a show, he inches the loose pants over his hips, past his muscled thighs, and down to the floor, leaving him in a skin-tight pair of yoga shorts. They look more like boxer briefs, but I know they’re not. These are lined and have a cool red stripe down the side, but good God in heaven above, his quads are cut. I want to lean forward and touch each hill and valley, memorize what the hair on his legs feels like fluttering across my palms.

“Keep up the eye-fucking, Dove, and you’ll get a much more interesting view from the front.”

A wave of heat flushes my cheeks as I snap my head down.

“Aw, you’re really lovely when you blush. I like it. I’ll have to make sure to flirt with you more often.”

I bite down on my lips and turn forward. His magnetic energy pulls me to look over at him when he sits on his mat, only a foot or so away, but I fight it. He’s so close, though, enough to touch without problem. I take a couple of slow breaths, trying to calm the fluttering sensation in my stomach from his sheer proximity.

I feel a heaviness enter my personal space when Nick leans close enough to whisper in my ear. The hair at the back of my neck stands on end as his lips brush the shell. I gasp and hold my breath.

“Why haven’t you come back to class? Are you afraid of me?”

Afraid. Of him. Not even close. I whip my head to the side so fast we’re nose-to-nose. His eyes widen, and then he grins like he planned on poking me to get a reaction.

“You don’t scare me.”

“Then what is it?” he taunts.

I narrow my eyes and focus on his. They’re a blue, no, a grayish tone with hints of dark navy around the edges. Probably the prettiest eyes I’ve had the pleasure of looking into. “Maybe your class was too hard.”

He chuckles but inches closer, our mouths only a couple inches apart and our noses even closer. “You were a natural once you got past your anxiety.”

A natural. I’ve never been a natural at anything. The compliment throws me off guard.

“Really?” I’m scrambling for any nugget of positive reinforcement.

He nods. “Yep. You just need more practice. Come on Friday, and then I’ll take you out to dinner after.”

My mouth goes completely dry as the reality of what he just suggested resonates. “Did you just ask me out to dinner?”

“Smart and beautiful. I like that in a woman.” His eyes blaze with desire as he smirks.

That smirk sears into my heart, making it beat fast, this time carrying with it anticipation and a note of excitement.

“Hello, class, and welcome to Vinyasa Flow. I’m Gracie Salerno, and I’ll be your teacher today.” A young woman’s voice breaks through the staredown Nick and I are having. I glance to the front podium and see a startlingly attractive young woman who can’t be more than a few years my junior.

Salerno. That’s Nick’s last name. I take in her more petite form, long black hair tied in a braid down her back, and gray-blue eyes. She smiles widely and tells us she’d like us to start in child’s pose. I have no idea what that is and glance around, trying to figure it out.

“Sit back on your heels and then spread your knees apart, leaving room for your chest and belly to lie in between them. Then place your forehead on the ground and your arms either stretched out in front of you or behind you at your sides. Whatever’s most comfortable,” Nick instructs.

I watch Nick as he repeats what he’s told me and gets into position. I do the same and lift my face just enough to make sure my body looks like his. When I do, he’s looking at me too. I smile, unable to help the natural response he brings out of me.

“That’s all I wanted. I hadn’t seen you smile. Fucking beautiful.” He winks. “Now pay attention or my baby sister is going to be mad at me for hitting on her clients,” he whispers before placing his forehead back on the mat.

Not wanting to make his sister mad either, I place my forehead on the mat.

“We’re going to breathe here for ten long breaths. During that time, think about what you want to get from today’s practice. Focus on giving this time to yourself. It’s for you. It’s about you. Breathe it all in,” Grace urges. I can hear her feet padding around each client doing something, but I’m not sure what until I feel her over me.

“Good.” She places her hand on my sacrum, firmly pushing my hips deeper into the stretch. Then she runs her hand up my spine, which has the sensation of her taking the negative energy right out of my body and flinging it away. “Breathe in deeply, and exhaaaaaalllleeee.” She drags out the word while pressing up my spine toward my neck. With each motion, I am lighter, more focused. She rubs at my neck, and I swear to God, I could fall asleep. It’s the most relaxed I’ve been in a long time. Before I get too comfortable, she moves on to the next person.

“Now I’m going to have you press up into table and go into your cat and cow transitions, pairing them with your breathing.”

Surprisingly, she doesn’t do the pose in front of the class, but everyone seems to know what to do. Everyone but me. How’s that possible?

As if I said the question out loud, Nick speaks up. “Most people who take Vinyasa Flow have already taken the beginners’ classes or other restorative type classes. You, on the other hand, just seem to jump right in.”

I frown and watch as his body shifts up into a position that looks like a scared black cat on Halloween. Then he drops his belly down and arcs his spine, lifting his head up.

“Follow my movements, and I’ll instruct you while you learn. Okay?”

I do as he says and pair my movements to his. He makes it look really easy, as though he’s a born teacher or leader. As I get into sync with him, I realize I’m actually doing the class, and it’s not easy, but it’s not so hard I wouldn’t come back. My muscles are straining while I hold a crazy position they call one-legged dog. Apparently, you start in a downward facing dog, which is essentially a triangle shape with your body, and then you pop one leg up to the sky. You then balance on your hands and one foot.

“Flex those feet, really press into the heel to get maximum length. You want to feel that energy pumping through your body and out that limb,” Grace calls out. “Now flip your dog!” she says excitedly, and I about lose it, fumbling and swaying precariously close to eating my yoga mat.

Before I smash into said mat, Nick has jumped up and is holding me aloft, helping me twist my body the appropriate way. He grasps my hips, making sure I don’t reach the ground or hurt myself.

“When you flip, you use the foot in the air as your momentum to turn over. Then both feet are on the ground, and the opposite arm goes up toward the sky.”

He positions me the way he wants, putting his hands all over my body. It’s the most I’ve been touched by another human in as long as I can remember. Everywhere he touches becomes hot, like he’s branding me as his.

Grace takes us through so many positions I lose count and focus, only capable of moving alongside Nick, parroting each pose to the best of my ability.

Eventually, she brings us back down to the mat to lie flat on our backs for Savasana. I crinkle my nose and look around at the other students all happily lying down and closing their eyes.

“Pssstttt. Nick,” I whisper, not wanting to bother the other patrons.

He opens his eyes, and I lose myself in them. They are so pretty, like the infinity pools at one of my parents’ five-star resorts.

“What is it, Dove?”

“I don’t know what this is?”

He grins. “Deep relaxation. We did it in aerial, but you had a…moment and didn’t get into enough of it. This time, you lie flat on your back and allow yourself to drift off. It’s awesome. I promise. Trust me.”

“I trust you, Nick,” I say, not believing I just admitted giving someone else my trust. But as Dr. Hart says, I have to let people in. I have to give of myself if I want to get in return.

“Then lie back and enjoy the ride.”

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and let Grace’s sweet voice lull me into a state of mental bliss. When she brings us back out of it, the rest of the class quickly wraps up their stuff, rolls their mats, and skedaddles. It’s like ants scurrying away from a glob of candy melting on the ground. They’ve gotten their fill, and they need to take their piece back to the colony.

Me, I’m sluggish, the class having put me through my paces, proving I need far more exercise than once a week—more like three or four days. Mentally, it relaxed me. Put me in a state of ease and, dare I say, serenity.

Nick comes up behind me and places a hand on my shoulder. “You blissed out?”

I offer a small smile. His easygoing personality is infectious and his need to touch disarming.

“Yeah. Really good class.”

He jerks his head back. “Better than mine?”

This time I give him a full grin. “Different.”

“I like different,” he quips.

“Do you really?” I ask, needing to hear from his lips that he’s not like other men, although I don’t think he could ever be. Nick seems to have such a sense of confidence and self-worth. It oozes from every pore in his beautiful body.

Nick tugs up his track pants. “Yeah, I do. You’re different, Dove. And I like it.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Your body language speaks for itself. Besides, that’s why we’re going out on Friday after class,” he declares as if I’ve already acquiesced.

Zipping up my hoodie, I look down at my pale-pink painted toenails. “As in a date among friends?”

He comes closer, invading my space with his large frame and magnetic warmth. “Do I look like the type of man who takes a beautiful woman out on a date as a friend?”

I lick my lips and focus on his face. His jaw is firm and curved with a dark goatee and mustache, both perfectly matching the hair on his head. His facial hair is trimmed close and looks more like the heavy growth after a weeklong absence from shaving. On a scale of one to ten, his sexiness is a hundred and five. For a second, I lose my head and imagine what it might feel like to have that hair rubbing against softer and more sensitive places, like my neck, between my breasts…my thighs.

Nick offers the most sultry grin I’ve seen on him yet. “Where did you just go while staring at me and ignoring my question?”

Ignoring his question. What was it? Oh yeah, about dating a friend.

“Um…I don’t know what you do with your friends.”

“Doesn’t matter, because you are not my friend. You are the beautiful woman I’m taking on a date Friday night. A date between a man and a woman. A man who’s interested in talking, touching, and kissing the woman standing in front of him.”

Sweet heavens! His words slam into me like a punch of lust to the chest. “My, you’re forward.” I gasp and widen my eyes, realizing what I just blurted.

He grins. “Get used to it, babe. There’s a lot more where that came from. I say what’s on my mind. I don’t believe in lies or bullshitting. I like you. You’re fucking beautiful. I want to take you out. Break bread. Nothing more to say to that other than yes.”

“Yes?” I question, but he doesn’t take it that way.

“Great. See you Friday for aerial. We can freshen up here and get ready. Bring a jacket. You’ll need it.”

“Uh, okay, but I didn’t mean to say…”

He pulls on his tank, covering his succulent body. Shame.

“You didn’t mean to say what? Yes? Too bad. I can see you’re into me, Dove. Not gonna let you fly away this time.”

“But…”

“Speaking of, give me your phone.”

I blink a few times, having no idea where he’s going with this.

“Your phone, babe.” He opens his palm and wiggles his fingers in an impatient gimmie gesture.

I fumble through my bag for my phone. He grabs it right away and inputs a series of numbers. I hear a phone go off and see his phone’s display light up on the floor near his sweatshirt, with my cell phone numbers glaring in white against the blue background. Goodness he’s quick.

“Now I’ve got your number, and you’ve got mine. Let’s touch base before class, yeah?”

“Um…” I don’t know what to say, so I just nod.

He laughs, wraps his hand around my nape, and pulls me flat against his chest. The scents of citrus and leather curl around his sweaty form. He smells so good, I want to breathe him in all day. All too soon his lips go to my forehead, where he lays a long press before pulling back.

“I’d kiss those sexy-as-sin lips, but I fear you’d fly away.” Nick smirks and pulls back. “Later, babe. Friday.” He motions with a wave of his fingers while heading toward the door.

I’m left behind with my bare toes digging into the rubber of the yoga mat, wondering what the heck just happened.

“Soooooo, you’re going on a date with my brother!” The woman behind me squeals like a little girl and claps her hands. She has a bounce in her step when she embraces me into a God’s honest hug.

I allow the girl to hug me and ease my arm around her to pat her on the back. Last hug I had from a woman was my nanny before I left for college eight years ago.

Grace bumbles around the riser with endless energy. “Do you have time for a coffee at Sunflower?”

“What’s Sunflower?” I ask, trying to keep up with this ball of enthusiasm.

She stops where she stands, holding her hoodie. “Seriously? You’ve never been to Sunflower? Well, I’m going to change that right now! This is great. I get to introduce you to Sunflower and the gang that will be there. You’re dating my brother. This is awesome. Wait until Mom finds out! She will just die. And you’re so pretty! Do you happen to be Italian? Even one percent counts with Ma.” Grace explodes with her battery of questions.

“Oh my, what have I gotten myself into?” I sigh as Grace loops her arm through mine.

“We’re going to be the best of friends. I can just feel it already!”