Her gaze flashes up, eyes a foamy, see-through gray, like a cloudy white quartz. With a mere glance, I’m lost. Gone.
Sorrow. Sadness. Pain. All those emotions flash behind her gaze before she licks her lips and looks back down. She drops the pen, her hand shaking when she picks it back up.
A barrage of images parades across my vision like a mini-movie. Looking at her eyes over dinner. Watching those eyes twinkle as I make her laugh. Staring into them, lust-filled with desire, as I press into her naked body. Sharing past sadness and helping her find peace while holding her in my arms. Her tears falling as she bares her soul.
For the first time ever, I’ve looked into a woman’s eyes and seen my future, and it centers entirely around me being the man for her.
I stand there like a numbskull while she finishes her paperwork and enters the main entrance with her new lotus-shaped entry card.
“Fuck, did that just happen?” I whisper under my breath and press the palm of my hand against my forehead.
Dara places her hand over my fisted one on the counter. My entire body is strung tighter than a drum, and I have no idea why. “Loosen up. She’s taking your class in fifteen minutes.” She chuckles.
I turn my head and focus on my friend. She’s an exotic, stunning woman. Her brown skin and ocean-blue eyes are startlingly unusual and nothing like those of the delicate blonde I just blanked out on after a single gaze.
“Hmmm, I’m guessing that rule you’ve got about not dating clients…” she hedges.
“Out the fucking window,” I growl, staring at the closed doors, wishing I could see through them to catch one more glimpse of her.
Dara laughs hard, followed by Luna, who snickers and wiggles around doing a little dance. Christ, these women are as bad as my own sisters. Speaking of which, I do a three-sixty and realize that Gracie is gone. “Where’s my sister?”
“Cool your jets, man. She’s setting up for her first class,” Dara offers.
I hunch over and shake my head, trying to clear it of the woman I’ve just seen. “I meant to take her to her class.” My big brotherly duty is feeling neglected as I stand stupidly, my feet stuck to the floor.
“Oh, how sweet. Like she’s in kindergarten and she needs her big brother to walk her in and protect her from the big bad yogis.” Luna jabs me in the chest with a pointy finger.
“Ouch!” I rub at the spot and realize what she’s said is the truth. Gracie doesn’t need her big brother hovering. “Just wanted to make her feel supported. I’m proud of her.”
Luna nods. “Then show her that by proving you know she can handle herself. No helicopter brothering at Lotus House. Got it?” Her words are firm and brook no argument. I swear, if I had a dime for every time I was bossed around by a beautiful woman, I’d be rich as hell.
I toss my towel over my shoulder. “Fine. You sure the blonde is taking my class?”
Dara nods. “Yep. I offered Gracie’s Vin Flow, but she chose Introduction to Aerial Yoga.”
“Did you warn her that it’s a lot of hanging from silks above a mat?”
Dara grins. “Yep. She said something like, ‘it sounds dangerous’ and promptly signed right up.”
“Huh. Maybe a risk-taker. I like it.” Definitely wouldn’t have assumed that from her hunched shoulders and lack of eye contact. If anything, she seems extremely shy and introverted. Guess I’ll have to figure her out.
“What’s her name?” I ask Dara.
“Dara…” Luna warns in that motherly manner from over her shoulder.
“Seriously, Luna. I know you’re vying for boss lady when the moms retire, but I’m just asking what the woman’s first name is, not the code to the safe.”
Luna purses her lips as her red bangs fall over her forehead. “Maybe she wants her name to be private?” She blinks innocently.
“Give me her freakin’ name, or payback is a…”
She waves her hands as if she’s ringing off bad juju. “Okay, okay. Her name is Honor, but that’s all I’m giving you. The rest you can find out the old-fashioned way. By asking her!” She looks down her nose at me.
“Honor.” I let the name ping around in my head as I wave over my shoulder and head into the hallway leading to my assigned room. Good grief, if that isn’t the perfect freakin’ name for an angel like her.
The room is quiet as I walk through the lines of dangling, royal blue silks. Several regulars are in attendance, even though they should be taking the intermediate class. I make a mental note to have a chat with a couple of them, give a gentle nudge toward moving up in their study. I find a lot of yoga patrons are comfortable in a certain class or need that small vote of confidence from their teacher in order to take the next steps. It’s my job to see their progress and push them out of their comfort zone and into new possibilities.
I stop at my personal yoga hammock at the front of the class. It’s a brilliant green so the students can easily see my movements through the silks as they attempt to mimic with their own placements. My yoga mat is leaning against the mirrored wall, and I grab for it and spread it out with a quick snap. Across the room, one set of shoulders jumps at the noise. I zero right in on her as she scrambles to place a mat on the floor under the silks above her. Though, she’s way too far away for my liking, having picked the last spot farthest from the teacher. That will never do.
First, I choose a chill jazz playlist. Louis Armstrong’s “What a
