Page 71 of Rum Sips and Salty Lips

“So you’ve never checked out a woman you were interested in?”

“Of course I have. But my eyes do eventually make it to her face.”

It’s her turn to glare at me. “You’re right. I deserve more.”

“Exactly.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

I pause, wondering if it’s a test as she merges into traffic. “No. Trying to get settled first.”

“Right. I thought you and Carina might hook up, but I feel like that would level the island.” She says it without any guile.

“Why do you think that?” I ask.

She shrugs. “You’re like oil and water. You don’t mix.”

I should correct her. Oil and water might not mix, but they don’t cause explosions. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t inflict that on anyone, especially not me.”

Carina and I aren’t oil and water. We mix together well. But we are like the ocean—a raging storm one minute and calm the next.

That afternoon,I drive to the Nebula Athletics studio. I’ve been to a few classes since dropping in on Carina. After my back injury, the doctor recommended I stretch more and recommended I add in yoga more frequently. Carina had the smuggestI told you soface I’d ever seen. I kissed it right off her.

The space itself is beautiful, and I feel Carina’s presence in it. It’s welcoming. I might be fit from the other physical activities I do, but I’ve never been flexible. No matter which class I attend, the instructors set me and everyone else up to succeed.

I step into the studio. She is at the front of the room talking to the instructor.

Carina turns when I enter. I wish she sensed me the way I feel her, instead of her merely reacting to movement. I wave and she smiles back like I’m any other student. Her hands remain on her hips. I’m sure it’s the only acknowledgment I’ll get. I unroll my mat at the back of the room and gather the props I need for this yin-style class. The whole time I watch her.

Her skin has a light sheen of sweat. She must have just taught a class. I know she jumps in to help occasionally. The sweat reminds me of the times I’ve tasted salt on her skin over the past few weeks. When we’re at one of our houses, it’s rough and fast and we never stop competing. I swear she has an endless list of positions and we’ve ended up on the floor more than once. One of us will get hurt again. But I don’t care if she kills me because it would be an honor to die with my dick in her.

On the boat, we’re gentle. She’s relaxed first and we focus on saving our strength. I take my time, making her come with my mouth. When I press into her, I hold her close, burying my head in her neck and imagining with every thrust I tell her how much I need her and how perfect she is to me.

I shut those thoughts down. I can’t get an erection at the beginning of class.

Carina says goodbye to the instructor and I watch her walk out of the room. Or at least part of the way. I keep my head forward as she passes me. If she won’t acknowledge me in public, then I’ll keep my head down and not acknowledge her further.

While I’m feeling petty and jealous, a mat unrolls next to mine. The class is filling up, but there is plenty of space around the room. I look up and see Carina standing next to me.

“This spot taken?”

“No. I thought you already practiced today.”

She shrugs and sits down. “I did a high-intensity class. I could use a restorative session.”

I shake my head. I don’t know what she’s doing right now but I can’t ask her and risk a fight here. I love that she’s here with me. That for all the space in the class, she’s next to me.

“You kayaked this morning and then trudged around the markets with Haley. I’ve done that before—it’s an adventure.There’s no way I’ve been more active today than you,” she counters.

I look at her sideways. I know her endurance because I’ve pushed it in the bedroom as much as possible. I run her into exhaustion for two reasons: it feels amazing, and I want her to stay the night with me. If I can tire her out enough, she won’t make the effort to go home.

We haven’t literally slept together since the night my back hurt. I don’t ask even though I want it. I want her next to me as I sleep.

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me,” I say instead of everything I’m thinking.

She smiles, but before she responds, the instructor dims the lights and class starts.

I thought having her next to me would be distracting, but she’s on my mind when I’m here anyway. She’s always a part of me. So practicing yoga together feels natural.

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