“ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY. We’re going to get down on the ground for a while. Sit with your legs underneath you, as a child. This is called Virasana, or Hero’s Pose. You want to cross your ankles under your buttocks. Sit back over your feet and put your buttocks on the ground.”

Everyone seems to be surviving their first yoga class. I can’t believe I had eight people sign up. And actually, show up; not to mention Wes. He’s the one that surprises me the most.

“Feel those muscles stretching. Breathe deeply. In. Then out.” Heavy breathes are panting behind me, but they haven’t given up or passed out. They’re going great.

“C’mon. I hear those internal groans. Give me ten more seconds.” I open my eyes and see a couple of really red faces. “And four, three, two, and one. Great job, everyone. Now tuck your feet back under your buttocks. That will take some of the pressure off your knees. We’re going to stretch  forward into Balasana, or Child’s Pose.”

I tilt my head sideways and keep a watchful eye on my students. They’re going to be sore tomorrow, but each new stretch will bring them more energy. “You’re going to feel great later. Much later, but eventually, it will become easier if you keep this new practice up.”

I hear glass packs rattling behind me somewhere in the distance. Just knowing that Braxton is back, makes me want to jump up and run to him. Slow down, girl. He’s only been gone fourteen hours. Yeah, fourteen hours, twenty-two minutes and if I had a second hand, I could count them ticking away.

“Alright, everyone. Well done. I’m proud of you and you should be too. Let’s take a few minutes to re-center our minds. Get into a comfortable position. You can sit or lay down; it’s your choice. Just close your eyes, and think of a beautiful beach. The waves are rolling in at your feet, and the water is warm.”

“Okay, can we stop that image right there?” Imogene begs. “You’re gonna make me have to pee.”

The whole crowd laughs. “Well, there’s an image. Alright, Imogene. You’re in a meadow with butterflies dancing all around you. The sun is warm, and a slight breeze is blowing. You can smell the Sweet Peas that are growing wild.”

I hear boots scuffling on the hard pavement behind me. 

“Breathe deeply from your core. Your stomach should be moving, not just your chest. In. Then out. Can you feel the sun shining warmly on your skin?”

Right at that moment, someone sneezes. “Someone smells the Sweet Peas. They make me sneeze too.”

I open up one eye and turn my head over my shoulder, trying to figure out where he went. I don’t hear his boots anymore. From the far side of my peripheral vision, I see one knee jutted out like he’s resting against something.

“Alright, everyone. You did it. You survived. How do you feel?”

The crowd mumbles all at once, but I mostly hear good things. “I don’t know yet. Ask me tomorrow and see if I can move,” Imogene says.

“I’ll be sure and check on you when you come back to class tomorrow night. Same time. Same place. See you then, unless you want to join Braxton and me at 6:00 am.”

Two of the young girls up front snicker at that comment. “I’d rather join him at midnight,” the brunette mutters under her breathe. The blond one loudly whispers, “Girl; she’s already staked her claim on him. Haven’t you heard the way he makes her moan through the open windows?”

I’m mortified. They think we’re having sex. My face burns hot like a furnace, and suddenly I feel faint. I’m so embarrassed...I can’t even roll up my yoga mat. I stuff it inside my bag and walk, straight-faced back to our camper, not even glancing toward Brax as I pass him.

“Noa. Slow down a minute,” he hollers at my back. “What’s wrong?” I continue my clipped pace until I get to the camper steps, and then I race inside, slamming the sliding door to my room.

They think I’m fucking him. I bury my face in my pillows, as he knocks on the door. I ignore him. “Noa, talk to me.”

Well, one thing is for sure, no more sleeping with the windows open. Oh, God. I’ve become my mother’s worst nightmare— rumors and gossip.

“Please, talk to me.”

I know he won’t come in. He’s too much of a gentleman to do that. Instead, he’ll sit outside on watch, like a big brother until I have to come out for air, or eat, or shower and pee. Oh, God. Like a big brother. My life sucks so bad. No wonder I’m thirty-six and still single.

“C’mon, Noa. I’ve had the longest day on record, and I want to share it with you. Talk to me.”

I look in the mirror, and the crimson coloring that erupted on my face is gone. This man wants to share his day with me, and all I want to do is hide from him. What is wrong with me?

I roll over and scoot to the edge of the bed. With my toes, I slide the door open just enough to see his belt buckle. He pushes it open wide enough for him to enter. I scoot back to my pillows and fluff them up for us to lean against, patting it to direct him to sit down.

His quadriceps bulge and push the limits of the seams of his jeans as he crosses his legs and leans back. I’m mesmerized by the thickness of them for a moment. “I missed you today, Nosey Rosey” he confesses out of the blue.

“Want to tell me about it?” He narrows his eyes at my question.

“Tell you about missing you?” He removes his hat and hangs it on the curtain rod. His hair is messy and curling up around his ears. I want to reach out and straighten them, but I can’t.

“No. I meant tell me about your day.”

“Well, I had two highlights and three surprises today.”

“Wow, that does sound like a long day. A good day, but a long day. Give me the highlights first.”

“Okay. The first highlight was watching my son’s eyes light up when I walked into the courtroom. He was surprised, and I love to see him happy.”

“And the second?” He fidgets for a moment, playing with a loose string on the hem of his shirt. He looks over at me a few times but looks away just as quickly. A ragged breath escapes his lips.

“Coming around the corner out there and seeing your ass bent over in front of me. It was the best view I’ve seen all day. And that’s saying a lot because before I saw that, I watched the sunrise over Texas from an airplane. I didn’t think my day could get any better than that.”

Here comes the heat again. Creeping up my neck and spreading across my face. I cover my face with my hands, not wanting him to see my embarrassment, but he pulls my hands away and holds them down on his thighs.

“Don’t do that, please. Don’t cover up your face. I don’t care what color it is. It’s beautiful.”

“Alright. Now tell me about the surprises.”

“She got off. They dismissed the charges after they put Rowan on the stand. He had a good conversation with the judge, and he said that she must have some redeeming qualities to harvest such loyalty from her son.”

“Really? That’s amazing and surprising. I hope she knows she got lucky.”

“Yeah, in more ways than one.” I raise my eyebrow, not understanding what he means. “What?”

“My friend, Trent, that I called from your borrowed phone that day, he’s the Director of Emergency Services. It turns out they’re dating. I don’t even know what to think about that.”

His lips quirk up in a half-smile, half-smirk way that tells me he is confused and worried at the same time.  I’m not sure what to say either, and there’s nothing I can do to help. So this is one of those times again where I can only listen.

“He’s a stand-up guy. I know he won’t hurt her. He’d be perfect for her. And Rowan, for that matter.”

“Then why are you worried?”

“I see my dreams crumbling, and I have nothing to grab on to save them.”

“What do you mean? I don’t understand?”

“My dream is to win the World Title for the prize money so that I can take Rowan out of his bad situation.”

“Have you ever considered his situation isn’t as bad as you think?”

“Oh, it’s bad. It’s about as bad as you can imagine for a kid who has to take care of his strung-out mother.”

“How did he look today?”

“He looked great. Happy and healthy. He showed me how he rides Miss Tomato, the old nag at his grandparents’ home. If his smile had gotten any more full, his face would have split in two.”

“Call me the devil’s advocate, but that doesn’t sound like a kid in a bad situation.”

“But this is just one good  day in a string of many bad days.”

“How do you know that? Does he complain that they’re bad? Does he sound stressed out and worried when you talk on the phone? Is he begging for help most of the time?”

“No.”

“I think you worry too much, and your imagination is getting the best of you. Maybe his bad days are the ones that are few and far between.”

He’s wound that one loose string around his pinky so many times, indention rings are digging into his skin. I wait for him to unwind it, and then flatten it back against the other stitches, taking his hand into mine to keep it occupied. I twine our fingers together into one knotted ball of knuckles, holding him tight.

“What are you afraid of?”

His voice catches in this throat, and a low mewling noise comes out with his first words. “I don’t want to be replaced.”

“That’s not going to happen. Kids don’t replace their parents unless they deserve to be replaced.  I think you’re so far away from that; it shouldn’t even be a glimmer of a thought.”

“But I’m not there.”

“Temporarily. Finish this season as strong as you have been performing and you will be. Let something like this mentally rip you apart, and you may never win that title. I know you don’t want your son to see a quitter. That’s not the man you are.”

He brings our clenched hands up to his lips and kisses the back of mine.

“What was that for?”

“Just for you being you, and being my voice of reason. You’re right; you’re a great listener.”

He picks up a piece of my hair lying over my shoulder and rubs it between his fingers analyzing each strand of color.  “It’s just as soft and warm as it looks.”

I look up at him. His face is so close to mine; I can feel the heat of his breath on my cheek. “You know, you shouldn’t worry about what everyone says or thinks about you. It has nothing to do with your job here.”

A single tear rolls down my cheek that I didn’t know was welling up inside me. He hit my hot emotion button with that one remark. He snuggles further down into the pillows, bringing his face even closer to mine. We lay face to face, a hair’s breadth apart, staring into each other’s souls.  “My reputation and trustworthiness is my job.”

“No, your knowledge of how to keep us all healthy is your job. Who you’re sleeping with is none of their business.”

“Brax, I’m the doctor on staff. There are patient-doctor ethics involved. It’s not morally sound to date your patient.”

“Then we won’t date.”

My jaw drops open. I can’t believe what he’s saying. This isn’t Braxton. Or, at least, the Braxton I’m used to.  I roll my eyes at him and move over putting my back to him.

“Noa, just listen to me...”

“No. Get out of here.” I point to the door, leaving my arm hanging in the air while flexing my index finger at the door.

“But...”

“OUT!” I start kicking at him with my feet. Digging my feet into the covers to push him off the bed. My feet connect with his strong legs a few times, as he scoots away from me.

“Fine. But think about this...”

I put my hands over my ears and start making lalalala noises not to hear him. He finally leaves through the sliding door. His shoulders are slumped in defeat. I should be happy that he left, but he’s two seconds gone, and I want him to come back.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says through the tiniest little crack of the sliding door that didn’t quite shut when he left. “That I’m not acting like the man that left you here this morning.”

I roll over onto my back and stare at the ceiling. Listening. With a big smile on my face. He came back.

“You’re right. I’m not. My world changed today. And maybe I’m scared shitless, or maybe I’m finally in the right frame of mind. Who knows, but I know what I want now. I’ll bide my time waiting. It’s worth it. Love’s worth it. You’re WORTH it.  You think about that.” His boots make the familiar thump as they tread down the hallway toward the kitchen.

My heart is beating a million miles a minute. What does this mean? Is he going to wait for my contract to be up? I’m not sure, but I have this feeling that he’s going to drive me crazy— much crazier than he already makes me.