The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) (17 page)

“Absolutely. Just give it time.” Mary beamed
at him with evangelical good cheer. “Take it slow and you’ll find
yoga is a path away from injury.”

“Sounds good to me,” Miles said. “Batter
up.”

Lucy folded her lips between her teeth to
hide another smile.

Alex exhaled loudly through his mouth, sucked
in more air, let out another one.

“You can get started now,” Miles said. “I’m
ready.”

“We already started,” Alex said tightly.

“Really? Awesome. I can do
this
.”

He sounded so sincere and looked so proud to
sit cross-legged on the floor; Lucy caught his gaze in the mirror
and smiled at him. He had such a friendly face, broad and open,
nothing pinched or held back. When he smiled back at her, a dimple
flashed in his left cheek and she gazed at it for a long
moment.

Smiling, Mary settled herself in front of
them. “Wonderful. Now, reach your hands forward and stretch to the
top of your mat, keeping your sitz bones grounded—”

“Sit bone?” Miles bent forward, but just
barely. His arms pointed rigidly ahead like a kid learning how to
dive.

Alex stopped pretending to be self-contained.
“Miles, if you think this is so funny, maybe you should leave.”

A quick frown passed over Mary’s face. “We’ve
got a place for everyone here. Nobody should be worried about what
his or her neighbor is doing.” She got up and went over to Miles,
touched his shoulder. “That’s it. You just need a little support.”
She padded off to the racks behind them and returned with two large
cork blocks. She set them under Miles’s hands.

Alex snorted.

Mary shot him another displeased look.

Miles appeared to be making a genuine effort
to fold himself forward, then from side to side as Mary instructed,
and didn’t say another word. Nevertheless, Lucy could feel the
tension building in the room like a kettle over the stove.

The next postures had them on their hands and
knees, and that was no problem. They all arched their backs and
hunched themselves over and breathed as Mary told them, Alex with
obvious enthusiasm, exhaling his air out with a
hunh
that
was so loud Lucy glanced at Miles to see what he would do. He
caught her eye and winked.

Hunh!
Alex went again, and Lucy had to
bite her lip and stare at her hands pressing into the mat to stop
herself from laughing out loud.

Hunh!

The laugh burst out of her. Alex swung his
head sideways to look at her in dismay.

“Sorry,” she said, swallowing air and staring
at the floor again.

She kept it together for another few minutes,
even during the Modified Plank, and then Child’s Pose—for which
Miles required the addition of another pair of blocks under his
forehead.

But then came Downward Facing Dog.

He watched Alex, Lucy, and Mary position
themselves, then tried to lift his own butt in the air. He didn’t
come close to looking like an upside-down V; his knees were bent,
his head was lifted, and his chest was parallel to the floor.

“Woof,” he said. “Does this work for
you?”

Mary stood up from her own pose, went over to
him, tried stack the blocks higher so he could straighten his
legs.  “It’s not what works for me, it’s what works for
you.”

He grunted, dropping his knees to the floor.
“Maybe I’m more of a caterpillar. Is there a caterpillar pose?”

She touched his broad back and smiled. “We’ll
do Cobra in a minute.”

Should the instructor be touching one of her
students so much? It’s not like she could imbue his body with
flexibility through the power of her skinny little fingers. And why
did she keep smiling at him?

Lucy’s thoughts continued along these lines
throughout Triangle Pose and all the Warriors. It was like Mary
chose poses she knew Miles wouldn’t be able to do so she’d have to
stroke his big, strong, inflexible muscles. And then get him hot
and sweaty so he had to take off the bulky sweatshirt, exposing the
thin, skimpy T-shirt he wore underneath.

His jeans strained against his thighs, his
back stretched the jersey of the T-shirt, his strong arms lifted
over his head. He looked like Atlas himself.

Lucy lost her balance and fell to her hands
and knees.

“Listen to your body,” Mary said.

The instructor might have been surprised to
know what Lucy’s body was saying, because it had nothing to do with
yoga. She got back to her feet and tried to balance with her legs
three feet apart.
Just don’t look at him.

They folded over and got down into Plank
Pose, which was a little more than Lucy’s arms were up to. She
slumped down to her knees and then flopped onto her belly.

In spite of Miles’s jokes about being a
caterpillar, he wasn’t having any trouble with holding himself off
the ground in the Plank’s pushup position. His broad shoulders
flexed with muscle and his legs stretched out behind him, firm and
immobile.

From her bellyflop position on the floor,
Lucy watched Mary with narrowed eyes to see if she would find an
excuse to go touch him again. “Readjust” him.

Hunh!

Lucy looked over at Alex, caught him looking
at her, and smiled politely.

“Try Child’s Pose if you need a rest,” he
said.

“I’m fine right here.” She closed her eyes
and put her cheek on the mat, forced to listen to Mary’s footsteps
pass by her and hover next to Miles again. Hussy Pose.

Okay, you’ve officially lost it, Lucy.

She joined into the rest of the positions as
well as she could, grateful when they moved onto their backs for
leg stretches and twists and she could stare at the ceiling instead
of at Miles’s body. And later, when they went limp, closed their
eyes, drifted off into a state of total relaxation.

Yeah, right.

As soon as Mary told them to wiggle their
fingers, Lucy got to her feet and rolled up her mat. Miles was
still sprawled out on his back next to her, a peaceful calm on his
face, and she felt a powerful urge to adjust him.

He opened his eyes, those smiling gray eyes,
and made a face. “I think I’m stuck.”

Before Mary could rush over to help, Lucy
bent over and held out her hand. “Here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You got superpowers I
don’t know about?”

“Try me.”

He grinned and her stomach did a
chaturanga
. “I will.” He lifted one hand, put it in hers,
and pulled. She tumbled forward and landed on top of him, her face
in the crook of his shoulder and her butt in the air. “Whoops,” he
said.

“Déjà vu,” she muttered. She could feel his
heart pounding under her cheek, smell him.

“Ah, French. The language of love,” he said
softly in her ear.

Her free hand in the middle of his huge
chest, she pushed herself up to kneel next to him, unable to look
away from his face. His sensuous mouth was curved up in a smile,
but his eyes were serious and dark.

Alex appeared on his other side. “How the
mighty have fallen.” He grabbed Miles’s opposite shoulder and
rolled him over onto his side, facing away from Lucy. “Yoga’s not
for everyone.”

The hem of Miles’s sweatshirt had risen up,
exposing the base of his spine and the hint of two dimples above
the waistband of his jeans.

The blood rushed out of Lucy’s head. She
stumbled onto her feet and carried the mat over to the rack, her
mouth dry.

Holy Moses.

“Are you all right?” Mary asked her.

Nope
. “A little lightheaded.”

“That’s normal. Go slow. Drink lots of water.
Remember your breath.”

“Right.” Lucy inhaled deeply. “Thank
you.”

She couldn’t look at him or it would be
obvious. Exaggerating her weariness, Lucy put her hand to her head
and caught Alex’s eye. “I’m going back to my cabin to, uh, hold on
to this feeling for a while. See you later.” With a vague wave, she
fled out of the building into the chilly morning and began to
run.

Miles left the yoga studio before Alex could
say anything that would lead to violence.

One thing: he was glad he’d worn jeans
instead of the shrink-wrapped number Alex had on because he’d been
fighting a hard-on for twenty minutes.

Damn, the feel of her when she landed on top
of him…

Where did she go? He stepped out onto the
path and looked around, but she was gone. Not eager to continue
what they’d started. Afraid.

At least she was beginning to realize how
wrong Alex would be for her. The more time she spent with him, the
better.

No, the more time she spent with
Miles
, the better.

He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and
set off into the woods before Alex would catch up with him for
another little chat.

Where would she have run off to? She probably
sensed he was going to hunt her down, which would eliminate her
cabin as a hiding spot. The lodge was getting crowded; every day,
more and more guests arrived, lingering there, especially in the
morning for a quick cup of coffee.

He yawned, feeling a tightness behind his
eyeballs. He could use a shot of caffeine himself. Maybe she’d be
desperate for java, too.

As soon as he stepped inside the lodge he
knew he’d guessed correctly. Her black hood was pulled up over her
distinctive hair, but he recognized her dark, pear-shaped
silhouette entering the gift shop past the sitting area.

His body responded optimistically. He tried
to relax, but he’d spent the last hour stealing glimpses of her
round ass and perky breasts bouncing around right next to him on
the floor and it was impossible to pretend he wasn’t halfway to
heaven.

He caught up to her by the refrigerated case
across from the cash register. The store was only about ten square
feet, with the usual sweatshirts and hats and postcards displayed
on the walls and a few shelves of toiletries and snacks in the
middle. The staffer at the cash register was ringing up all the
purchases but explaining to Fawn’s mother that no payments were
necessary.

“For God’s sake, I wish they’d put up a sign
or something,” Geri said to Lucy, putting her wallet back into her
purse. She had a bottle of water and a small box of condoms, which
she quickly shoved into her purse after the wallet. “I could’ve
stashed them away without making such a scene.”

Lucy laughed. “I think it’s cute you met
somebody.”

Miles wondered what kind of guy would send
his woman out to buy condoms at eight in the morning.

“Cute? Have I gotten so old that it’s
cute
I have sex?” Shaking her head, Geri went over to the
shelves, helped herself to a box of crackers and a bottle of wine,
and went back to the register. “Wait until you meet him. ‘Cute’
isn’t the word.”

Lucy still hadn’t noticed Miles standing in
the doorway behind her. “When does he get here?” She sounded
amused.

“Not sure. He has to get time off work.”

“One box enough?” Lucy asked.

Geri swung around, looking like she had a
retort on her lips, but froze when she noticed Miles. Lucy
hesitated, then turned slowly and saw him.

“Morning, yogi,” he said, then nodded his
head to Geri. “Mother of the bride.”

“Aren’t you a vision,” Geri said. “I was just
telling Lucy here how cute it is to have sex.”

Lucy gasped.

“Now we’re even.” Geri thanked the cashier
for the items she’d bagged up and smiled at Miles on her way
out.

Lucy turned her back to him and thunked her
bottle of water and apple on the counter.

He grabbed the closest thing to him—a crystal
window decoration—and joined her at the register. “Nice lady.”

“Very.”

“Fawn’s parents been divorced a long
time?”

“Since fifth grade. Right before we met.”

“I didn’t realize you’d known each other so
long. That explains a lot.”

She frowned at him, clutching her purchase to
her chest. “What does it explain?”

“How a supermodel and an analyzing processor
would be best friends.”

“Process analyst.”

He grinned. “Right.” He handed his crystal
thingie to the cashier and hoped she didn’t take too long wrapping
it up.

But Lucy was already out the door. “Sorry,
never mind,” he told the cashier, abandoning it there to run after
Lucy.

“Sorry to rush off, Miles, but I’ve got an
appointment in a few minutes.”

He strode after her through the lodge and out
the door. “What kind of appointment?”

“Massage. Then a facial. I’ll probably just
sleep the rest of the day.”

“Aren’t the massages in the buildings back
there? Near yoga?”

She stopped and looked through the trees
behind him, shook her head. “Yes, of course. Silly of me.” Without
meeting his eyes, she scurried past him in the opposite
direction.

“You know, I’ve never had a facial,” he said.
“Does it hurt?”

She dug her hands into her pockets. “Only
when you pay for it.”

“Do you do it to yourself, or is there
help?”

She ducked her head under the hood and kept
walking, but he thought she might be laughing a little.

“Can I come?” he asked.

After a pause, she stopped and glanced up at
him. Her cheeks were pink, her green eyes bright but wary.
“Why?”

“I have a face, don’t I?”

She bit her lip, studying him. “You do.”

He took a step closer. Not for the first time
in his life, he wished he weren’t so damn tall. Trying not to look
obvious, he bent his knees a little. “Think they’ll know what to do
with it?”

“Y—” She cleared her throat. “Yes, I imagine
they will.”

One of her coppery curls had escaped her hood
and was poking her in the eye. Slowly, not breathing, he lifted his
hand and brushed it aside with the tip of his index finger. Her
skin was buttery soft. Warm.