Searching for Someday (8 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Probst

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women, #General

BOOK: Searching for Someday
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Arilyn and Kate stared at him. Hard. He refused to shift his feet, even a little. No way would he be intimidated by one slip of a woman. Or two. He demolished cold-hearted jurors who judged him to be the scum of the earth without a blip.

“I understand your concerns,” Arilyn answered. “I’m asking just to have an open mind and give this a chance.”

“I’ll do it.”

Slade jerked back as Meat stepped forward. He left the circle and walked to his purple mat, lowered himself to the floor next to the crazy yellow cushion, and waited for further instruction.

Trent bit his lip and followed.

This was going to be a bad day.

No way was he wimping out. He’d do the silly stretching and report back to his sister they were all loon bugs. He hit the mat, stripped off his shirt, pulled off his socks and shoes, and turned to face them.

Bring it.

Kate grinned.

The session started easy enough. A few salutations to the sun or moon or whatever it was. Some easy pushups. Backbends. Yeah, it was definitely hot, but his muscles actually eased a bit and the tightness from his neck leaked away. Hmm, maybe he was missing this in his normal workout. Soothing flute music drifted from the speakers and wrapped him in calm.

Then it changed.

Arilyn began transitioning into rounds of postures more quickly, and the flute music disappeared to some earthy, urban beat, automatically urging him to pick up the pace. Push-ups melted into crazy half-assed sit-ups, to plank, to backbend, and back again. Over and over, she pushed harder, until his muscles stretched and rivers of sweat trickled down his back.

Grouchiness hit. What was she doing? Why did she look so frickin’ graceful and stronger than the three of them put together? Slade glanced over at his partners. Meat had his eyes closed, panting for breath as he tried to keep up, and Trent moaned and groaned in agony, trying to unstick his sweatshirt from his soaking skin, red hair flopping over his brow.

“A bit faster, gentlemen. Kate’s turning the temperature to the highest setting to release all toxins. Your mind will fight you, but allow your body to surrender.”

He muttered a curse under his breath and tried to
ignore the quivering muscles in his biceps. He’d die before he quit. Hell, he’d melt in a pile of goo before they beat him.

“Ahhhhhh!”

A primal shout echoed through the room and jolted him out of his posture. Trent gasped, eyes wild, and ripped off his sweatshirt. Slade prepped himself for something horrible—why else wouldn’t the kid strip. Maybe a third nipple? Scar tissue? But when he sneaked a look Trent looked—

Normal.

A bit lean, but nothing to stop him from going swimming or anything.

The kid seemed to have freed some inner demon, because then he surrendered to the workout, moving like a demon and making low noises that made Slade uncomfortable.

Well, at least there were two real men left in the room.

“Very good, Trent, let it all go. We’re going to start holding our asanas for longer periods to really dig deep.”

Oh, goody.

Meat scowled at Arilyn, and Slade figured all those muscles weren’t too good for continuous, rapid stretches because his foot got stuck by his leg and didn’t make it to the front of the mat. He groaned and tried to inch it forward, looking pissed off and irritated. Slade waited for the explosion, patting himself on the back that they wouldn’t break him.

Kate appeared at Meat’s side and whispered something in his ear. She eased his leg and placed a purple block under his hip. Meat grunted, closed his eyes, and breathed.

Slade decided to amuse himself by mentally reciting landmark cases and the court judges’ briefs. His leg was on fire. So was his skin. He’d never been so uncomfortable or hot in his life, and when he glanced at the clock, he realized he’d only been in the room for fifteen minutes.

They moved out of that torturous position, where he gave a silent prayer of thanks, and Arilyn announced they’d do balancing. Piece of cake.

He’d seen warrior pose in some photos before, and it did look pretty manly. Slade followed her lead, lifting his foot and leaning forward with strength, agility, and confidence.

Then fell on his ass.

Meat and Trent didn’t seem to notice. They held the pose like statues. Kate appeared by his side. “Do you need some help?”

Slade scowled. “Of course not. Mat’s slippery from the heat.”

“Balancing is difficult. Concentrate on your breath and relax.”

He glared. Relax when he now knew what being in the center of a roaring volcano with hot lava was like? They should be arrested for torture. But he didn’t say a word. Just sucked it up and redid the pose. Over. And over.

“Moving into deep backbends, gentlemen. Follow my lead. Go slow, no reaching or pushing ahead. This is not a competition.”

She did something erotically graceful, bending way back and gripping her ankles. Chest up, hair streaming, he figured that was easy enough. He glanced over and saw Trent and Meat a quarter of the way there. Slade hid a smirk and went for it, pushing his back as far as it would go and grabbing his heels.

Which he couldn’t find.

He toppled to the right, off balance, and fell over. Meat snickered in manly competitive code, though he pretended to be deep in the moment with his eyes closed. Trent had a proud smile on his face, his bare, gleaming chest arched in symmetry.

Bastards.

He tried it a few more times and kept falling. Usually he would’ve lied or faked weakness to get Kate’s hands on him in any intimate way, but since it was real he was too stubborn to enjoy her touch until he got hot yoga right.

“Let’s fire it back up and then cool down. Sun Salutation, Ashtanga style. And begin.”

With each round, his mind roared with a bunch of emotions all mingling together in a complete mess. Anger and frustration. Physical discomfort. Ripped pride. A sense of loss. And slowly, something else.

Quiet.

The last five minutes, his body wept sweat, but his mind cleared and seemed almost . . . empty. How odd. His muscles stretched and moved to the music, beyond listening to any rational thought or yelling demand, and sank into the rhythm. As he was guided into some dead pose, lying flat on his back, wondering if he’d ever be able to walk again, a lightness flowed through his body and his breath came way deep.

For the first time in his life, a feeling he’d never experienced invaded his body and soul and mind.

Peace.

Slowly, Arilyn brought them back and they sat in a circle. Sucking down water, exhausted, he waited for some weird type of chant, probably an om, and then he was getting the hell out of Dodge.

“It’s sharing time. Trent, will you go first?”

Slade choked on the water. This was going to get him a relationship? If he had an ounce of energy left, he’d tell them all exactly how nuts they really were and walk out. And he would, as soon as his calves stopped shaking.

Trent nodded. “I got so uncomfortable and crazed that my barriers seemed to break down, and all of a sudden I didn’t care if anyone saw my chest. I was freed. I ripped it off, and I realized it was never important.”

Arilyn smiled. “What a wonderful realization. That is exactly what I wanted you to feel in this session. You’re definitely ready for the next step, right, Kate?”

Kate nodded. “I’ll begin setting up some dates we spoke about.”

“Does anyone want to say something to Trent about his experience?”

Meat turned to him. “Good job,” he said in his low, rich rumble.

Everyone looked at Slade. He shifted slightly. “Umm, you have a good chest, dude. Be proud of it.”

Trent beamed.

“And Meat? Your turn.”

Meat rested his hands on his knees, deep in thought. “Everyone thinks I’m a mean person because I got these muscles and I’m black. That type of prejudice hurts me because I’m judged before I open my mouth. But during that balance pose, I realized I can only present who I am. Some people will judge, some won’t, but I need to be happy with me.”

Slade’s mouth fell open.

Trent grinned and pounded him on the shoulder. Arilyn and Kate practically exuded kindness and love within the circle. “I’m amazed at your insights, Meat, from just one yoga session. We’re all beautiful and struggle with others’ opinions and concepts. You have a true yogi lying within.”

Meat wiped at his eyes. “Thank you.”

Slade watched in horror as four gazes were trained on him. “Slade?” Arilyn prodded gently. “Anything to share?”

Panic hit. Kate cocked her head, but a shred of cynicism gleamed in those baby blues. She didn’t think he’d do it. She assumed he’d chicken out, rant and rave about the ridiculousness of the session, and stalk out. Anticipation hung heavy in the air, as ripe as the body odor of the men next to him.

He cleared his throat and searched madly for something to top them. Something deep and sensitive and mind-boggling. Something to wipe out Kate’s doubts and confirm he was open to this whole nutty experiment. He was an attorney, for God’s sake. “I felt a lot.”

Silence. “Like what?” Arilyn asked gently.

He scratched his head and pushed back damp strands of hair. “I learned that being alone and pushing people away is a mistake.”

Kate lifted a brow. Arilyn sighed. “Please don’t say something that sounds good but isn’t true. There is no judgment in the circle. No right or wrong. What did you actually feel during the session?”

Frustration beat in waves and simmered in his gut. They didn’t believe him? Why didn’t they question Meat or Trent’s heartfelt stories? That’s it, he was so done.

The words tumbled out of his mouth in very un-lawyerlike fashion. “Fine. I felt pissed-off, hot, sweaty, and miserable. I couldn’t do half the poses I should, and I hated every minute.”

“Better. What else?” Arilyn probed.

He let out a breath. “Ah, hell, I got nothing for you. The only thing I noticed was at the end of the session my head was empty. I’m always thinking or planning or hear this noise, and for the first time, it was quiet. Almost peaceful. But it was only a flash and then it was gone. That’s it.”

He tried not to sulk, which was so beneath him, but suddenly everyone smiled and nodded and Meat clapped him on the back.

“Nice work,” Arilyn said. “That’s what I wanted. You see, as a lawyer you’re used to controlling aspects of a situation and expectations of a certain outcome. It’s a part of your daily life. By ripping away that control, stripping you down just for a while, your mind surrendered and let barriers down. That flash you got was important. It was your true self dying to get out.”

Her words crashed over him. He had little time to process, because everyone did a group om—at least he was right about that—and then it was over. Slade chugged the rest of his water, dragged a towel over his face, and watched while Kate chatted with Trent and Meat.

Arilyn packed up and left the studio. After a solid fist bump to regain their manhood, he watched Meat and Trent drift toward the weights, and the glass door shut behind him.

Kate dragged the mats over to the pile, her perky ass high in the air on perfect display. A wave of lust grabbed
him in a chokehold, and suddenly he knew the session wasn’t over.

He headed across the room.

KATE CONCENTRATED ON CLEANING
up the studio so she wouldn’t have to face the sweaty, irritated, gorgeously sexy client behind her. When Arilyn told her the plan, she had little faith Slade would even participate. Halfway through the grueling class, one glance at his face confirmed he’d never make it. Arilyn was wicked smart when it came to knocking down barriers. Kate had been the recipient of many of her sessions when her frustration with her stuttering caused her to shut down. Kate figured she’d get a kick out of watching Slade’s confident charm slip.

Instead, he’d impressed the hell out of her.

He never quit, and his honesty in the circle was dead-on. He told the truth, after first trying to tell them what he thought they’d want to hear. She’d seen many men storm out during these sessions, not ready to go deep.

Of course, what really pissed her off was his body.

Slade Montgomery was sheer perfection.

Every muscle was lean and defined. Golden hair sprinkled over brown skin reminded her of delicious Honey Nut Cheerios, and she craved a taste. Even sweaty and irritated, he held a core center within him that told her this man knew who he was and didn’t apologize. He liked to win. He
liked to get what he wanted. He didn’t apologize for his beliefs and never backed down from a challenge.

Her body wept, so she kept far away, careful not to touch him.

The door shut behind her and she sagged in relief. Finally. Kate dropped the last mat on the pile, pushed it neatly in the corner, and turned.

“Hi.”

She jerked back. He stood before her and dominated her personal space. Hair damp and lying over his forehead, T-shirt sticking to his chest, he smelled rawly masculine and delicious instead of yucky. Damn, the man even sweats musk. How was this fair?

“H-h-hi. Thought you’d left.”

“Not yet. Interesting session. Do you torture all clients equally or just ones you don’t like?”

She fought the smile and tried to ease back, but there was nowhere to go. “There’s no discrimination at Kinnections. You should see some of Arilyn’s other sessions. You got off easy.”

“She’s scarier than a drill sergeant ’cause you don’t see her coming.”

“You did good,” she admitted. Forced herself to hold his gaze, though she felt stripped and vulnerable. Her skin prickled with awareness as the heat surged between them, strangling her air.

“I held my own. Bet you lose a lot of clients forcing them into one-hundred-degree heat.”

She lifted her chin a notch, but he still towered over her. Damn bare feet. “Some do. But if they’re not ready to do some hard stuff in search of love, they’re not meant to be with Kinnections. Relationships aren’t all fluff and fun. It’s tough work.”

“At least you’re preparing them to be strong when the divorce happens.”

Ah, they were back on solid terms. She smirked. “You know, the divorce rate is actually decreasing due to couples living together for longer periods of time. Afraid you’ll be out of a job with me in business?”

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