Page 3 of Hero Hair

Chapter One

Teala

My father is an asshole—a fact that has taken me twenty-five years to accept. It’s easy to turn a blind eye to bad behavior as a child and even as an indifferent teenager. It’s when the adult vision focuses that the haze you’ve believed as truth is exposed as impostor. Aunt Patti, Aunt Christine, and Aunt Jessica were not fucking aunts. My mother needed him financially and emotionally in some twisted way, so we stayed. I blame her for being weak, for letting me believe their lies for so long. I forgave her easily once I realized how warped her sense of self actually was. I’ll never forgive him. He is not a good person.

I don’t blame my lack of long-term relationships on my father, though. That’s on me. I have a very distinct type of man I like to toy with, experiment with. The bad ones. They are usually good-looking and know it. They’ll have some personality flaw that keeps them from committing, which typically is vanity with a side of boredom. They don’t spend the night, and if they do, they’re gone before the sun rises. In other words, the kind of men who don’t know what the wordtogethermeans.

When you think about it, together is such a strange, complicated word. Everyone is familiar with what it implies in any language around the world. If you peel back the surface, you find the true meaning. Together is only several degrees away from separation. Things and people wedge themselves between together. They ache to tear apart, steal, covet that which doesn’t belong to them, that which seems better than what they themselves have. Together doesn’t last forever.

Can a human ever truly belong to another human? Can together stay that way long-term? In my experience it’s always temporary, a fleeting feeling of lust and happiness. Kisses start to taste differently once the newness has worn its welcome. There is less desire, more comfortable indifference. I’m not unhappy single. I’m merely indifferent, existing in the spaces in between. That’s where I’m at now. In between experiments, searching for the next man to warm my bed and show me exactly why together doesn’t work.

I blow out a long breath, exhaling things like non-permanence and bad fathers. “Take it down to lotus,” I say, my voice low. “Set your intention for class and for life.” My yoga studio is a ripe one hundred and four degrees Fahrenheit. The participants in my class are fresh. We’re only seven minutes into practice.

Using my best soft voice, something I’m always told doesn’t come natural, I guide them through several poses and end in downward dog for a long stretch. I know Judd is staring at my ass right now. He always does. It’s partially my fault because I went out on a date with him, but I figured once I told him it wasn’t going to work out he’d take classes with another of my yoga instructors. His persistence is noble, but goes unrewarded. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s handsome and intelligent, and I know we’d at least have yoga in common. It’s probably the red flag. Having things in common with someone generally leads to more than I want.

I flip from the pose and sit, facing the room lined with colorful mats. Judd looks away quickly. I quirk a brow and speak the next move in a monotone voice, reminding them to focus on their intentions and to let their egos go.

I should take my own advice. Judd should take my advice. I pull a face when he lifts his gaze and then cowers back to his position. My watch vibrates on my wrist. A text from my friend Carina.I got you a date,it reads.

“Take another Vinyasa flow if you feel the desire or stay in down dog.” I stand and approach the stereo system in the back. “Inversions are next. Grab some water. Stay hydrated.”

I try tapping the screen of my watch a couple times with sweaty hands and end up having to towel off. I send her back a quick thumbs-up. Moose is the guy’s name. He’s the best friend of the man Carina is seeing. He’s tall, bulky, has dimples and eyes that would make you want to smack your mama. He’s also a Navy SEAL, which automatically puts him in the bad boy category regardless of his dating tendencies. I bite my bottom lip to halt a smile and return to the front of the room.

Judd moves his mat behind another woman. I hide my disgust with a sigh and lead the class in handstands. My body is lithe and tight from a lifestyle devoted to clean eating and exercise. There isn’t another option when your business and livelihood is a yoga studio. I built it from the ground up, and three years in, my classes always sell out. When I’m not here, I’m working out at boot camp classes or home sleeping. It’s not as if I have much free time to spare when you break my life apart piece by piece.

Thirty minutes later I end the class and leave the studio with the lights low and my class reflecting on their time spent here. I grab my water bottle from under the front desk and towel off, tossing the towel on the seat of the chair before I sit down. My front desk girl is gearing up to go clean the studio before the next class arrives.

I pull my cell phone out of the drawer and call Carina now that I’m free. She answers on the third ring.

“I’m good, right? Call me matchmaker Carina. You want his number or want me to text it to you?” she gushes.

“I can’t believe he agreed. Did you tell him what I look like? Why would he agree to a blind date without knowing I’m not a troll?” Men like Moose have standards. Usually high ones for actual dates—people who will be seen with them in public.

She pauses. “I don’t think he’s like that. He seems like a good guy.”

Oh, fuck. Not one of those. The monkey in the desert. Monkeys don’t belong in deserts. Everyone knows that.

“I told him you were pretty, though.”

She may be one of my best friends, but Carina’s as wild as one of my eyebrow hairs. She’s introverted for the most part, so it makes sense. She’s also an author who writes all day, in the dark, in her pajamas. Granted, her books are popular, but she needs to live a little, in my humble opinion. I think this new guy is good for her.

“Pretty is not how I want to be described, Care. I appreciate the compliment, though.” I laugh.

“What should I have said? That you’re a sex crazed, lust longing lion ready to attack their next victim? Like I said, I’m not sure that’s what he’s after. A fact thatshouldmake you happy.”

I grunt. “Give me his number.”

“You’re welcome,” Carina grumbles.

I take down his digits with a pen on a sticky note, and we make plans to work out together with our friend Jasmine. I hang up the phone, a little disheartened. Judd winks at me on his way by. I do my best to nod and smile instead of flipping him the bird.

That wouldn’t be very Zen of me, would it?

****

“Tell me again why you don’t have a girlfriend,” I ask Moose.

He’s sitting next to me on a barstool. It’s early, so the bar isn’t loud and crowded yet. I’m less interested in his reason than I am in watching his lips move. This man is beautiful in the rogue, I want to destroy your vagina kind of way. Except his personality doesn’t quite match up. Carina was, unfortunately, right.

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