Page 96 of The Sidekick

Asher

My laptop blinks with a new roster, and I check it before heading to the yoga classroom and notice a new name at the bottom.

Tera Evans.

Tera.

How many women out there are named Tera? Probably thousands. How many women named Tera have a pseudo-boyfriend taking one of my classes who wants me involved in his love triangle? One.

That motherfucker.

I’m tempted to text him for the first time since he made me take his number and curse him and his firstborn. This is going to be a fucking disaster.

For once, I’m glad the women in class are trying in one way or another to get me in bed. It’ll be good camouflage to keep her away from me. I bet the rest of the women have already absorbed her into their little cliques to gossip. No woman can be as sweet and angelic as Max has described her. I guess I’ll find out for myself in ten minutes.

Tera

I’m standing at the very back of the classroom, looking around as I clutch my mat to my chest along with my travel cup of water. The room is large, so there should be enough space for a class to spread out. The walls are all glass, which makes me uncomfortable. Anyone could look in. There’s a row of cycling machines that directly face the room. They’re deserted right now, but my paranoia says they’ll be full before the class is over.

I’m not the first person here, but I’m not sure where to go. There are two obvious cliques in huddles on either side of the room. One is four women with tight gym clothes and shiny makeup. The other is a group of three that seem to know each other. Neither one seems very welcoming. They’re all really excited to be doing yoga, though. Maybe if I prove I’m into it too, they’ll accept me?

I scan the space available and end up setting my mat as far from the bicycles as I can, giving myself an oasis of space that I hope no one enters. I turn to the cubbies on the floor behind me so I can set aside my water when the buzz in the room gets louder and more girly. Like squealy girly.

I turn to see what the commotion is and force my muscles to lock down so I don’t run out of the room like a crazy person. I see what the buzz is about now.

The guy who just walked in with his mat is surrounded by all the women in the class, and it makes me wince for him. He doesn’t seem to mind, answering their million questions calmly with a small smile. His blond hair is a little long, as if he hasn’t had time to get it cut and mussed like he runs his fingers through it a lot. His body is lean, well-muscled, and covered in vibrant tattoos. I can’t tell where one image ends and another begins. His shirt is sleeveless, so I can see they start at his knuckles and swirl all the way up his neck. Maybe it’s one whole piece. How cool would that be? His black-framed glasses hide his eyes, so I can’t tell what color they are.

No, no, no. I don’t want to see another attractive guy for the rest of my life.

Please don’t see me.

I silently beg the universe for help. If I leave this class because one hot guy is here, Shade will never let it go. He’d probably bring the twins to class just to embarrass me.

I can do this. He’s just one hot guy, and he’s got all the attention he needs. He’s loving his number-one status up there, and I can sit in the back and relax. I’m good. I’m cool. I’m invisible. Not worth looking at.

I set the water aside and begin stretching to prepare my body for what’s about to happen. I can’t believe I haven’t done this in so long. I used to do it every day. Now, I can’t remember the last time I did it. Sometime before everything fell apart.

My muscles warm as I bend and I feel a smile curve my lips. It’s like my body is saying oh yeah, we remember this! I’m glad I’m not stiff and unstable. That’s a miracle in itself.

As I’m finishing up, I notice that everyone else has set up while I zoned out. They’re all closer to the front of the room where the raised floor for the teacher is. There’s barely any room between them. I frown in confusion. I’m an island way off in the distance in comparison. I’m not going to complain. They all look like professionals up there. I’m basically in pajamas. I’m right where I need to be.

The lights dim a little, creating a more intimate atmosphere, and the room warms in a soothing way. I feel like a blanket fresh from the drier has settled over me. I suddenly feel more at peace than I have in months. Shade was right. This was the best idea. I don’t even have to talk to anyone. He’ll never know.

The first clue that this might not be a great idea is when the ladies up front don’t stop giggling and whispering. The second is when the hot guy lightly jumps up onto the platform and stands in the center to roll out his mat. Is he the teacher of this class? Do I have to look at him the whole time? Goodbye, peaceful yoga time.

No. I can do this! I’m not giving Shade more ammo to use against me. The blackmail is real with him.

When he straightens and takes a glance around the room, he spots me in the back. He stops, head tilted as he studies me.

Please don’t call me out. Please. Don’t make me move up. Nothing to see back here. I’m an illusion.

He took his glasses off, so maybe I’m a blurry blob. The thought relaxes me enough that the urge to run away screaming subsides. When he looks away, I sigh in relief.

He pulls out a phone from his pants pocket, and soft music comes over the speakers. I don’t recognize any of it, but it’s soothing, taking my tension down even further. He doesn’t do any introductions. He calmly names a pose in Sanskrit and sinks into it.

His knowledge of the word surprises me. I thought I would be floundering around trying to understand him with the English version. I’m a nerd for yoga, so this feels heavenly.

The beginning is simple, and I feel a little silly for warming up when he’s taking us through the same moves I just did. Once everyone is loose, the harder poses begin. I relish every second of it with a soft smile. I am in my zone, and nothing can touch me. It’s like I’ve been holding my breath for the longest time, and I’m finally breathing normally again.

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