Page 5 of Icing the Cougar
“And release!” I say, watching them tumble gracefully. I try not to envy their coordination. Or their ability to remember what they're doing.
I look in the mirror again, see myself hanging there, and wonder if I'm nuts. I swear I see his face in my mind's eye, but everything's like a jigsaw puzzle missing half its pieces.
“Great job, ladies,” I shout as they begin untying themselves. I catch a glimpse of my reflection one last time. I'm upside-down, untangled, but only just. The mark on my skin is barely visible now and will disappear any day now.
The girls chat as they leave, and I take a moment to center myself. Breathe in, breathe out. My body feels warm and stretched, and my mind calms for a brief second.
I focus moves to a stranger who just walked in. He’s tall, broad, and has gorgeous blue eyes.
Standing in the hallway like he's wandered in lost. He’s no damn sexy, but I have no idea who he is or why he’s here.
I smile, trying not to look as bewildered as I feel. “Can I help you?” I ask as I untangle myself from the silks.
He gives me this confident smirk that makes my stomach flip. “Yeah. I'm looking for Nova.”
Oh, so he's here for yoga, not for me. Nova and I share this studio. So, that shouldn't be disappointing, but it is.
I pull myself together, ignore the zing in my core, and say, “She's come down with the flu, so I’m helping her out while she’s out. I’m Trinity, by the way. I can reschedule, or I can teach her sessions if you're okay with that.”
“Flu, huh? Is that yoga speak for something?” His grin is teasing, and I try to focus on what he's saying, not how his lips move when he talks.
I laugh. “I promise, she's actually sick. She asked me to cover or cancel, and I'm happy to help.” I offer him a second out. It's the professional thing to do, even if I hope he doesn't take it.
“Covering's good with me.” He holds out his hand, and it feels huge around mine. “I'm Jasper.”
I'm sure my expression gives away something because he looks amused when I introduce myself. “Trinity. Nice to meet you. And sorry about Nova. Did she mention you have private or group session?”
“Private,” he says. Then he adds, “Sessions. I'm new to this.”
“Not a problem,” I assure him, trying to be as professional as I can be when standing in front of a guy that’s as hot as sin. Hell, I’m thirty-six years old, and this guy looks to be at least ten years younger. I’m not looking to be anyone’s cougar, for Christ’s sake. “What are you looking to get from yoga?”
“I play hockey,” he says like that's supposed to mean something to me. “Captain thinks I need to loosen up.”
“I see.” I wish that wasn't so easy to imagine. “I'm sure we can help with that.”
“Yeah, he said his wife does yoga with Nova and passed along the contact to me.” He rubs his neck, and I wonder if I'm staring too hard.
“Well, Nova knows her stuff,” I say, trying to sound casual and not like I'm offering services other than exercise. “When did you want to start?”
“Soon as you're free.”
It's the kind of line that sounds different when you're wearing real clothes and not a sports bra and yoga pants, but my mouth goes dry anyway. I manage a professional nod, as if I'm not flustered or fascinated or both. “How's tomorrow sound? Eleven?”
“Eleven works.” He gives me a slow once-over, pausing his perusal at my shoulder level, and then with a smirk, turns and heads out the door.
Chapter 5
Jasper
The studio is bright with the lights reflecting off the floor to ceiling mirrors. I toe-heeled my Nikes off by the door under the sign that points to where shoes belong.
“Socks stay on?” I ask Trinity, rocking back on bare heels just to watch her eyes flick down.
“Bare feet help with grounding.” Trinity’s voice has this melted-honey tone that people use when they’re trying to sell you kale smoothies. Her toes peek out from flowy pants – bright red polish, same shade she’d worn that night in the hotel room.
The mat rack is crouched in the corner, and I grab the top one. “This thing’s thinner than my rookie year paycheck,” I say, unrolling it with a snap.
Her laugh comes out half-choked – good. “We’re cultivating presence, not pillow forts.”
