Page 34 of Basil

I cleared my throat. “And now, we breathe.”

If only it were that simple because my breath was caught somewhere between my legs.

“How long have you been doing yoga?” Sharon, who was next to Basil, asked.

She looked him up and down like he was a piece of meat, and I didn’t blame her. I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t fault her because he lookedfine.

“Since now.” He shot me a grin before turning back to Sharon. “I heard the instructor is amazing. Life-changing, really.”

Sharon sniggered.

Someone whispered. “Is hetheboyfriend?”

“Oh my God, if he was my boyfriend, I’d climb him like a tree.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake!Was Basil vying to be a major player in the spank banks of all these women?

No, honey, just yours,my naughty subconscious said as she licked her lips.

“We’re moving into downward dog,” I instructed, stepping to the front of the room. “Hands shoulder-width apart, feet hip-width apart…press through your palms and lift your hips toward the ceiling.”

The class adjusted, shifting smoothly into the pose.

Except for one person, who was doingsomethingthat wasn’t yoga, at all.

Basil’s arms were locked, his legs barely bent, and instead of forming the signature inverted V-shape, he looked like a confused plank.

I pressed my lips together. “Basil, what are you doing?”

He lifted his head slightly, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “Downward dog?” he mused hesitantly.

Meadow burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Basil, that is not downward dog. That’s like…collapsing table.”

I walked over, placing my hands on my hips. “Bend your knees slightly if your hamstrings are too tight. And spread your fingers—don’t just rest on your wrists unless you want them to hate you forever.”

Basil exhaled sharply but did as I said. His form improved.

“Okay, better,” I quipped. “Now, press your heels toward the mat—no, don’t force them down—lengthen through your spine.”

Basil groaned. “Summer, I think my spine is already as long as it gets.”

That made me smile. “And yet, you’re still not stretching enough. Hips higher.”

Basil let out a long, suffering breath but lifted his hips. And?—

“Jesus.” He winced. “My hamstrings just filed a complaint.”

“Relax, big guy,” I teased. “Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth.”

He did, though it sounded a little like he was wheezing.

I crouched beside him, watching as his muscles gradually stopped resisting the pose. His breath evened out, and his shoulders relaxed.

“See? Not so bad.”

From under his arms, his muffled voice responded, “Says the person who’s not currently dying.”

I stepped back enjoying the hell out of him. “Just wait until we get to pigeon pose.”

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