KICK IT | JENLISA

48

Jennie

"It's the same muscle movements but a weight-sustained stretch." My head warmed from the blood rush, the pressure swelling my cheeks. "How does it feel?"

"Good."

"Good." I peered around my arm, where her back rose and rose. "We can work with this."

Lisa lagged behind me on the first pass through my modified vinyasa. By the second iteration, I cued only the poses' names, with lunges, twists, and side planks all modified for a top arm reach that opened her shoulders. She caught up, moving with more comfort each round. My body hummed with warmth, using connective breaths with the asanas.

During the last pass, Lisa moved fluidly. Only our breaths could be heard, our movements synchronised as we flowed between the movements. The air warmed, and my pulse hummed in my veins by the time we sat down. Despite Lisa's face being red and her breath elevated, she wore a look of contentment. Warm and loose. I didn't want to push her shoulder too much, so I ended our hour with core work and gentle stretches. She protested on child's pose until I guided her shoulders into place. Dampness seeped through her shirt, her heated skin warming my palm. My other hand's fingers tingled as they moved her wrists, reaching back with upward palms instead of extending forward.

"Open up." I slotted my fingers in the crease between her shoulder blades. "Big sigh of relief."

Today being more about Lisa's shoulder, I skipped the meditation refocusing. We rested, side by side, lying in savasana for a few silent minutes. Having never taught private yoga sessions, I curled my fingers and rubbed my thumbs over my pinkie cuticles. "Feel okay?" I whispered to the ceiling. Contrary to my behaviour in her first class, which now embarrassed me, hopefully, helping instead of hurting her.

"More than okay." Rolling my head to her confident tone, she shot me a smirk. "It feels warm but loose... thanks."

"I'm glad." I smiled. "It's a star..."

Lisa's phone rang. Sitting up and grabbing it, she laughed at my narrowed eyes. "Relax, it's good news. Hey, Abe. Yeah? Alright. Thanks."

My truck. I sat upright, tapping my fingers until she ended the call. "Is it fixed?" As reliable as Lisa's truck was, I hated feeling indebted to her.

"One more hour." She shut off her phone. "They're cleaning up."

I tucked my lower lip between my teeth. "How much do I owe you?"

Her eyes studied me for a moment. "Did you eat? I made us lunch."

"You didn't answer me." I pointed out the obvious, standing together.

"We'll talk over lunch." she insisted in a quiet but firm voice.

With a sigh, I cleaned up my stuff, left it in Lisa's front foyer, and washed my face in the bathroom. My eyes were shining as I patted my pink cheeks dry. A skittered heartbeat paused me at the sink. I was just waiting to get my truck back. Didn't mean anything.

Shaking my head, I wasn't in any position to want more than a platonic lunch, including opening either of us up. Lisa's busyness made me pause in the kitchen. Standing at the stove, her damp shirt clinging to her lower back. A sharp crease trailed between her broad shoulders, which rounded and flexed as she cooked a stir-fry.

Two place settings sat on the island. "Need any help?"

"Nope." Her torso twisted, a sizzling pan in hand. In two steps, a heaping pile of chicken and mixed vegetables appeared on the plate in front of me. Steam lifted the garlic and soy sauce into my nose. "Sit your ass down."

I sat my ass down. Despite my closed-off nature, our conversation stayed relaxed. We stuck to boring, safe topics, agreeing that Blue Lacys were the best dogs because they just are. The conversation flowed in a lazy breeze to Abe's garage. I argued that I was paying for the truck repairs, and she laughed at me.

Lisa's laughs were splashes of sunshine. She laughed hard, low, and deep from her belly. Hearing them filtered a sense of lightness through my veins. The crushing sensations that weighed down my heart were less compressed.

All of that light joy evaporated when we arrived at the garage. My heart dropped at Abe's cloth wiping the driver's side door. All the oxygen whooshed out of my lungs, not in a slow leak but in a vacuum. I palmed my chest, where pressure crumpled me inward.

Oh no. No, no, no. It's all wrong. She didn't... they didn't!

I gasped through the chokehold gripping my lungs. Tears flooded my eyes, blurring the truck and streaming hot down my cheeks. I clamped my hand over my trembling lips, muffling my words. "Lisa... what the fuck did you do!!?"