Page 23 of Commit

Reece follows my gaze. “Matt, you’re a guy. That is a man.”

“Yes, but who is he?”

“I think he works for the hotel. I saw him teaching water yoga this morning.”

It wouldn’t be a big deal, except for the fact that Water Yoga Man looks like Fabio on steroids.

My jaw hardens as he lifts his arm and flexes his bicep. Who does that? Who shows a stranger their volleyball-sized muscles? I watch as Remi grips his bicep and squeezes. I might have just thrown up in my mouth.

Then, suddenly, the shirtless man lies down in the sand.

I panic. “What’s he doing?”

“I’m not sure.”

Remi turns around so her back is facing him. Fabio’s feet go to the small of her back and butt. Her body curves over, and instantly, she’s arched upside down, balancing on him in some sort of yoga pose.

“Oh boy,” Reece says.

The guy’s hands go to her shoulders for support, and she grabs her ankles, making a circle with her body. Who does couples yoga on the beach with someone they just met? Is this part of Remi’s war? Because if it is, it’s working. I’m exploding with jealousy. Couples yoga was kind of our thing, and now she’s doing it with Fabiyoga.

I’m a fidgeting mess as I watch her giggle upside down.

I don’t like it.

“You’ve got to stop this,” I say to Reece.

“What am I supposed to do?”

Fabio loses his balance and drops Remi. She lands on his chest and lies there for a moment, laughing. He’s laughing and touching, trying to get her back up into the pose. It’s all too much. I’m not a possessive guy, but dude! Fabio needs to keep his hands to himself.

“Get her out of there,” I snap.

“How?” Reece takes a step forward like he’s unsure what to do.

“I don’t know. Are you my best friend or not?”

“I’m your best friend.”

I wave him forward. “Then get her out of there.”

They switch positions, and Remi’s staring into his eyes as he tries to push her up with his feet, airplane style. I’m familiar with that pose.

I rake a hand through my hair. “I don’t care what you have to do. Drain the ocean!”

Reece takes off, and I pace back and forth, watching as he calls to her. “Uh, Remi? We need you over here for the sailing demonstration.”

Fabiyoga lets her down, and she rolls to her feet, waving goodbye to him. Then, her eyes turn to me.

She’s such a little punk.

I’m not the only one who’s bringing my A-game this weekend.

I rub my forehead.

My blood pressure is through the roof, and this war has only just begun.

CHAPTER 13

---