Page 40 of Sassy Love
“Good morning, my lovelies!” Manuel’s exuberant greeting fills the air throughout the bungalow. I grab my phone and stalk my way to the door. I pluck the keys from the front table and hold Rawlins’s in one hand, waiting for him to take it.
The key disappears from my fingers as he raises a brow. “Someone has plans.”
I slip the key into the side pocket of my pants and slide my sneakers on, tying the laces.
“Well, let’s get you two to yoga.” Manuel turns on his heel, leading the way. I follow as Rawlins holds the door before closing it after us.
Across the resort and past the pool that’s unsurprisingly vacant, we find another large grass area where people mill about. A grid of yoga mats, ready for the morning’s session, cover the dewy grass.
Manuel shows us to two mats in the middle. I take the first one, and Rawlins takes the next. Manuel drops his clipboard by the next and steps onto it.
“You’re doing this, too?” I ask.
“Of course. I wouldn’t ask my guests to do anything I wouldn’t.”
I scoff and Rawlins glances at me.
“Okay, people. Shoes off my mats, please,” the instructor calls. It’s then I notice Manuel’s bare feet.
Shit.
I squat, untying my laces. Rawlins does the same, his gaze snagging on mine as I hurry my laces free. Ignoring him, I slide my sneakers off and slip my socks into them. Music starts up, slow and rhythmic. The instructor signals for silence and then bends to one side. The group imitates her movement. I bend to the side, my body still cool and stiff from the early morning start.
We bend to the opposite side, and my limbs wake up. Slowly.
The sun rises a little more with each pose we hold, wobble through, and fall from. Not used to the stretching and balancing act of the exercise, I’m trembling by the time the hour is up.
“Alright, well done, all. I will see you tomorrow morning. Same time, same place.” The instructor beams with a smile.
The crowd of early risers disperses, and I sit on the mat, tugging my sneakers back on.
“Well, that was fun,” a low, breathy voice says.
I snap my attention to Rawlins. His T-shirt clings to his toned frame from the exertion. A sheen of sweat lines his forehead.
“If you say so.”
“Okay, my children, I will see you in an hour for breakfast.” Manuel swipes up his clipboard with a broad smile, like this garbage rejuvenates him. Me, I’m exhausted and still recovering from trying to contort myself and hold my muscles at angles that no man’s ever managed to get my body into, let alone me trying it on my own.
As if my facial expression changed, Rawlins frowns. “See you back at the house.”
See you back at the house.Like it’s our house. Just a normal occurrence, the two of us at home.
What the actual hell, Carlie?
Fucking yoga’s bent my mind out of shape.
That has to be it . . . right?
Waving them both off, I stalk my way back to the bungalow. I need to think about something else.
Safely inside with the front door locked, I prop my phone up on a pillow with YouTube playing my favorite fitness channel’s latest workout. The first burn of the squat lances through my thighs.
Much better.
After god knows how many squats, lunges, pushups, crunches, and a trillion other body weight exercises, I’m a sweaty, happy mess. I wander to the bathroom and peel off my clothes, letting the cool air caress my skin as I turn on the water. The white bathroom is a stark contrast to the wooden hut-style bedroom on the other side of this wall. The space floods with steam. It’s warm and relaxing... delectable.
The vision of Rawlins lying on the floor bare-chested this morning captures my mind. The toned chest, hard stomach, and bulging arms. Like he...
