Charitable Contributions

5: Ostrich Ass

A man like Sam could never understand what he couldn't see, and I wasn't the person to rewrite his brain. His concern was a means to an end.

One minute left, a few bodies wiggled. They shot up when I drew their attention. "Using a deep breath, take your time to sit up. Gently, slowly... alright." My hands prayed at my heart, and I dipped my chin to the seated class. "Thanks for sharing your time and practice with me. In peace and loving kindness, Jai Bhagwan. Namaste." (May the divine in you be victorious. I bow to you.)

A fast chorus of 'Namaste' rang out, followed by scuttled movements as girls grabbed their shit and packed up. I sighed at the fire drill line bolting to the bathroom. I deserved that.

A warm hand clasped my shoulder, guiding me to Delores' smile. "Thank you, Mia," she gushed in a muted voice, palming her stomach. Appreciation beaming in her eyes melted my guilt for gassing her at Sam. "This was amazing. I can't tell you how much better I feel. It's like unplugging an invisible stopper."

"I'm so glad." I smiled, relaxing the tension pinching my cheeks and cupping her elbow. "Have a wonderful night."

Another participant wasn't as impressed. Alyssa approached me with flounced steps that jiggled her breasts. Pursing her lips, a pout protruded them as she applied gloss. "Mia, that was...different."

"Always good to try something different." I rolled up my mat and slipped my feet into my rubber comforts.

"True..." she murmured with a pucker and smack of her lips. Her eyes flicked in Sam's direction, who leaned against the back wall with his arms crossed. He bent one knee, resting his bare foot on the wall. At first glance, he was smug as fuck, but a closer look revealed a red flush on his cheeks and forehead. Ego high-five for me. The air warmed at how intense he stared at me, the same defiance teasing from a distance. His focused attention crawled under my skin.

"Mia?"

I returned Alyssa's prompt with a blank look. "Huh?"

Duckface's lips pursed, and irritation clipped her voice, "I asked how you know him."

"Wish I didn't."

"Right," she drawled. Shifting movements drew my eyes to her adjusting her sports bra. I rolled my lips inward as she hitched her breasts up like bootstraps. "I hope we see more of him."

Not if I had anything to say about it. Sam's bulky, stacked muscular form reminded me of a bull. Even with light corrections, strength surged behind his large, tensed muscles. Power combined with irresponsible recklessness had no place in my class. Neither did shiny, loose shorts that spotlight his...assets. Why had I picked warrior two tonight?

A look back at Sam dropped my stomach. His giant frame stood next to the short, thin woman who held my job in her delicate hands. Beyond being the owner, Shanti was a visionary instructor. She studied Ashtanga twice per year at home in Rishikesh, Uttarakhand in Northern India. In addition to running Houston's most successful yoga wellness center with her husband Beau, a retired Army dietician, she worked the appropriate grant angles to keep my niche class open.

She was also the most striking woman. High cheekbones showcased her blemish-free brown skin. Even under dim lighting, her skin cast a warm glow. Thick, black lashes framed her large, dark brown eyes. Two full, heart-shaped lips captured her husband's heart with one smile.

My heart pounded as I approached, pressing the tip of my index finger into my thumb's cuticle.

"Why do you wear those ridiculous rubber shoes?" A sparkle dotted her eyes.

"Comfort over style," I shot back with a shaky smile, uneasiness tugging at my stomach. "Don't insult the Crocs."

"I stopped by to see if you could cover Margie's meditation tomorrow, but the mass exodus drew my curiosity." Her eyes lifted to Sam. "Mister Pearson was telling me about your class."