Bridge pose isn’t going so well for Zach. I can hear his bones creaking as he tries to push himself up, wobbling for a second before collapsing back down on his back.
‘This is very undignified,’ he whispers over to me.
I love how much he’s trying.
Ocean pads over to Zach, crouching down until his bum practically hits the floor. So bendy, I marvel. ‘Looks like we have a yoga newbie here,’ he says. ‘What other sports do you do?’
‘I’m a runner and I do a lot of rock climbing,’ Zach replies.
‘Oh dear, oh dear. Verrrrryyyyy tight,’ says Ocean, running a hand across Zach’s broad shoulders. ‘Let’s try some simpler stretches for you, try to ease out those muscles.’
After that, the entire class is basically ignored while Ocean pervs on my boyfriend. Zach looks mildly flattered and quite a bit embarrassed as Ocean leads him up to the front, positioning their mats together so he can demonstrate to the rest of the class how to get a flat back.
‘Going back to basics is super important, even for seasoned yogis,’ he says, bending Zach over and running a hand down his spine. I try hard not to snort. By the end of the session, Zach’s been handed a leaflet and instructed to attend every week from now on. His cheeks are adorably pink as he finally extracts himself from ohms with Ocean and when we’re back out on the street, we both burst into laughter.
‘Well, at least I know that if it all goes tits up with you I’ve got options,’ he says.
I jab him in the side.
‘Hey! I actually don’t think it will go tits up, thanks very much. And if it does, you are not leaving me for a yoga instructor called Ocean. Deal?’
‘How about I’m not leaving you, full stop?’
My heart flutters as I take the hand he’s extended and we shake on it.
We head out for breakfast at Tamper in town afterwards and as we read through the menu I find myself wondering how many people are drawn to Zach like Ocean was, like I am. He’s the roaring fire on a freezing cold night that you just want to inch closer and closer towards. And yet he doesn’t seem to realise it.
‘What can I get for you guys?’ asks a member of staff.
In an ideal world I’d be following up yoga with some kind of smoothie bowl or maybe some avocado on toast but, let’s face it, that’s just not what I’m about. I opt for their version of a full English while Zach chooses the salt beef benedict.
‘Sounds good,’ I smile at him when our menus have been cleared away. ‘So, how did you find the class?’
Zach stretches his arms behind his head. ‘I’ll be feeling it tomorrow.’
‘Me too. My calves are going to be on fire after all those downward dogs.’
Zach nods, unwrapping his cutlery from the napkin and looking around the busy café. It’s packed in here already, filled with people catching up over a lazy weekend brunch or fuelling themselves before a day of shopping in town. And Zach and I … who don’t seem to have much to say to each other.
Our coffees arrive and I start up an overenthusiastic conversation with the person who brought our drinks until she’s called away to another table.
I look at Zach. He catches my eye and looks away.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask.
‘Nothing, you?’
‘Nothing! You’ve been quiet all day …’
‘I guess I’m a bit preoccupied,’ he shrugs.
‘You know you can talk to me about stuff. Is there anything I can help with?’
Zach sighs and stares off into the distance.
‘AmIthe problem?’ I ask.
‘No, Alice, you’re not the problem at all.’
