Page 81 of Fifth Avenue Fling

“La, la, la!” Clodagh shrills. “This is my boss, Killian!”

The younger guys glance at me warily.

Clodagh clears her throat and claps her hands together. “Alrighty then, let’s get started.”

I stand to the side as the rest of the group unrolls their mats on the grass. Clodagh places her pink mat at the front.

“Teagan, this one is yours.” She hands her a mat. “Put it down beside Marg there.”

To my daughter’s delight, some of the guys peel their tops off. God, give me strength.

“This mat is yours, Killian.” Clodagh holds out a mat, smiling at me.

My brows lift. “I’m not participating.” I jut my chin to a bench. “I’ll watch from over there.”

“Nonsense,” a woman barks beside me.

The rest of them voice their objections loudly.

Clodagh walks to a patch of grass beside one of the women and sets the mat down. When she bends down, I have a perfect view of her chest disappearing into the tiny sports top.

“You need the benefits of yoga more than anyone.” She smiles innocently. “Sir.”

I clench my jaw. “No chance.”

“It’s only yoga, Killian. I’m not asking you to stick your head in a fire. Break from the manual for a change.”

I grunt back at her. Her comments piss me off. I look at my daughter rolling her eyes at me and the football players eyeing me smugly, and for someinexplicablereason, I want to prove to Clodagh that I’m not the uptight guy she thinks.

The women cheer and Teagan groans as I make my way to the yoga mat and take off my T-shirt in an unashamed act of peacocking. My body was built strong even if I didn’t lift weights; I got my well-built frame from my useless father’s genes.

Clodagh’s eyes go wide as she stares at my chest. “Great! Hop on your mat, and let’s get started.”

I smirk at how flustered she is.

She flops down on her ass in a cross-legged pose, her knees touching the grass. I don’t know what the technical term is, but damn, it’s sexy.

My thighs are tight from running, and my knees are nowhere near touching the grass. Maybe I have an inflexible Dad bod.

“Is this your first time at yoga, sweetheart?” queries the woman next to me, who looks to be in her seventies.

Sweetheart? I quirk my lips at her. “It is.”

“You have awonderfulteacher.”Shebeamsandgives me a wink.

“Today, we’re going to give you a really deep stretch,” Clodagh says in a loud, soothing voice. “I know you guys had a match last night, and some of you work in high-stress environments.” She catches my gaze and smiles. “I want all your worries and stress to melt away.”

She takes us into stretches. We’re supposed to have our eyes closed. I watch her chest hitch up and down as she takes long, deep breaths, ordering us to do the same. Her lips form a perfect O as she breathes in and out.

Without warning, her eyes open and catch me watching her.

Blushing, she continues, “Okay, let’s do a nice deep straddle stretch.”

She opens her legs until they’re almost in a complete split.

Fuck.

“Open your thighs as far as you feel comfortable. Place your hands in front of you and give me a nice circle with your hips.”

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