Page 78 of Love so Hot

I stretch, feeling a rare sense of lethargy pull at my limbs. "Nah, not feeling it." I prop myself up on an elbow. "What about you? Got plans?"

"Actually," Willow says, sitting up and stretching her arms above her head, "I was planning on doing some yoga to start the day. And then, if I'm not mistaken, you owe me breakfast."

I groan again, burying my face in the pillow. The bet. Right. I'd forgotten about that little gem. "Do I have to?" I whine, knowing full well how pathetic I sound. "Can't we just go out for breakfast? I know this great little place in town that does amazing pancakes."

Willow shakes her head, her green locks swaying. "Nope. A bet's a bet. You lost fair and square."

I peek out from behind the pillow, eyeing her suspiciously. "You cheated. I'm sure of it."

She just grins, looking far too pleased with herself. "Not my fault you dragged ass to the pool. Now, up and at 'em, chef. I'm thinking vegan blueberry pancakes."

I sit up, running a hand through my messy red hair. "Vegan? Are you trying to kill me, woman?"

Willow rolls her eyes, but there's a softness in her expression that makes my stomach do a little flip. "Don't be so dramatic. It won't kill you to eat something that doesn't involve animal cruelty for once."

I grumble under my breath, but I can't help the small smile tugging at my lips. Who would have thought I'd end up here, in bed with the leader of the Earth Defenders, arguing about vegan pancakes? Life has a weird way of throwing curveballs, that's for sure. As I watch her rant passionately about the perfect pancake consistency, her eyes flashing with that stubborn determination I’ve come to expect, something inside me softens. There's something about the way she fights for everything she believes in—how she never backs down, even with something as ridiculous as breakfast—that stirs something deep in my chest. Damn, I hate how much I like her fire.

As I swing my legs over the side of the bed, I can't help but wonder how I'm going to explain this to my board of directors. "Sorry, gentlemen, I can't make the meeting. I'm busy making vegan pancakes for my hippie fiancèe trying to sabotage our pipeline." Yeah, that'll go over well.

But as I look back at Willow, her green eyes sparkling with mischief and her lips curved in a challenging smirk, I find that I don't really care what anyone else thinks. This moment, right here, feels more real than any boardroom meeting ever could.

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Can't we do an even exchange?"

She taps her fingers to her lips. "What do you have in mind?"

"How about we go out for breakfast and I'll eat bacon as my punishment?"

"Ha ha," she snorts. "How about we go out for breakfast,butyou have to come do yoga with me this morning?"

I blink, caught off guard. "Yoga? Me?" The image of myself twisted into a pretzel flashes through my mind, and I can't help but chuckle. "I'm about as flexible as a two-by-four, darling."

"Oh, come on," she coaxes, her voice taking on that persuasive tone that I'm starting to find irresistible. "It'll be fun. Plus, it might help you relax a bit. You're always so... tense."

I raise an eyebrow. "I wonder why. It couldn't possibly be because of a certain environmental activist who's been giving me hell."

Willow laughs, the sound light and airy. "Consider this my peace offering then."

I contemplate for a moment, weighing the potential embarrassment against the chance to spend more time with her. "Alright," I concede, "but if I pull something, you're paying for my chiropractor."

We make our way to the living room, and I can't help but feel a bit nervous. I've seen yoga before, sure, but actually doing it? That's a whole different ballgame.

"Um, full disclosure," I admit as Willow starts laying out yoga mats, "I've never actually done this before. My idea of exercise is sprinting to catch the elevator." I run my hands down my chest. "I guess the only thing I got from my parents was good genetics."

Willow looks up at me and gives me a sad smile.

I shake my head. "It was a joke."

"Don't worry," she says softly, "I'll guide you through it. Just follow my lead and try not to fall on your face."

"No promises," I mutter, eyeing the mat like it might bite me.

Willow stands at the front of her mat, her posture eerily perfect. I feel like a hulking giant next to her lithe frame.

"We'll start with a sun salutation," she says, her voice taking on that calm, instructor-like quality. "First pose is Tadasana, or Mountain Pose."

I snort. "Mountain Pose? Sounds like something I can handle. I'm great at standing still."

She shoots me a look that's half amusement, half exasperation. "It's more than just standing. Feel your feet rooting into the ground, elongate your spine, and breathe deeply."

---