Page 23 of Road Trip with a Vampire
I swallowed. “Relax,” I instructed.
He let out a huff of frustration. “I am relaxed.”
“If you were any more tense, you’d combust,” I quipped. “Relax.And put the ball of your right foot here.” I gave his ankle a gentle tap for good measure.
“Everyone else in this class has their foot above their knee.”
“They’ve been practicing yoga for years,” I explained. “Ignore them. This is between you andyourbody andyourmind. No oneelse’s.” When he let out a huff of frustration, I added, “This isn’t a competition.”
“Everything is a competition.”
I thought he was joking until I saw the firm set of his jaw and the way he glared at his legs like they’d murdered his dog.
“I don’t know if letting go of that mindset will bring back what you’re looking for,” I said quietly, so the other students wouldn’t hear. “But it can’t hurt.”
His jaw worked. “Fine.”
Following my advice, he managed to hold the pose for a full thirty seconds. But during Savasana at the end of class, I had never seen anyone less able to lie still for five minutes than he was.
After class ended, Peter hung back to talk to me as the others filed out of the room. “I’d like to come back tomorrow.”
I hesitated. While he’d shown remarkable restraint during class, and while I hated the idea of gatekeeping yoga, continuing to expose my students to a vampire felt like a bad idea.
“You sure?” I asked. “It didn’t seem like you enjoyed this at all.”
“I’m sure,” he confirmed. “I…get antsy when I have nothing to do. It’s part of why I came today. Why I want to come back tomorrow.” He leaned in close enough for me to count the flecks of hazel in his dark eyes. The others were gone now, leaving us very much alone. “I must have been someone who kept very busy before.”
Based on what little I’d observed of him so far, Peter’s need to keep busy didn’t surprise me. But yoga would only fill so much of his time.
“Have you thought of finding a job?” I suggested.
He shook his head. “I don’t need money.”
“I know,” I said, thinking of all that cash he’d shown me. “But a job would give your days structure.” An idea hit me. “The gluten-free vegan bakery downtown is looking for someone to join their early shift.”
He stared at me. “I’m a vampire.”
“So?”
“So,” he continued, “I know nothing about food meant for human consumption.” He paused. “Well. Except for Diet Coke.”
That caught me off guard. “Diet Coke?”
“After I woke up with amnesia but before I understood my dietary limitations, I did some experimenting.” He grimaced. “Most of it went terribly. Diet Coke was different. It…gets me drunk.”
“Drunk?” I spluttered. The idea of stern, taciturn Peter being drunk after downing a soda was so deliciously incongruous it broke my brain a little. I knew that different vampires had different abilities, and that daylight affected vampires differently, but this…
Well. Just when I thought I’d heard everything.
I vowed to myself I would see it with my own two eyes if it was the last thing I ever did.
“Drunk,” Peter confirmed, grimly. Then he cleared his throat, clearly wanting to change the subject. “Anyway, I’d be a terrible baker.”
“Okay, no bakery,” I conceded. It probably wasn’t a good idea to expose him to more humans, anyway. Then I got the perfect idea. “How do you feel about some light cleaning around the studio?” Robert, the elderly man who cleaned for us, had been struggling to keep up. We needed the help—and if Peter was looking for something to do, he could come in a few nights per week and pick up the slack.
Even as I made the offer, I wondered if Peter might find it beneath him. He might not have known who he used to be, but his demeanor suggested he wasn’t used to cleaning up after others.
Peter’s expression, though, turned hopeful. “You’re offering me a job?”
