“Scheduled yoga date.”
“Practice.”
“Close enough.”
The signal changed. Amy stepped into the crosswalk. I followed under her sidelong inspection.
“Dani?”
“Yeah?”
“The kiss will not happen again during yoga.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were thinking it.”
I smiled.
“I was thinking about balance.”
“You lie badly.”
“Only to you.”
I said it before caution could intervene. Amy missed half a step. A car waited at the intersection while we kept walking. I had meant it as a joke. Mostly. But truth moved beneath it. Amy was becoming the person I found hardest to mislead. I wanted totell her everything. I also wanted more time, and wanting both was becoming its own kind of lie.
Chapter Nine
Falling for Her
Amy
By Thursday, June twelfth, I had watched thirty-seven partner-yoga videos. This was not excessive. Six of the twelve challenge poses required one partner to support the other’s weight, and the packet printed TRUST YOUR PARTNER above a photograph that violated several principles of structural engineering. The problem was not research. The problem was that every demonstration required me to imagine Dani’s hands at my waist. That was a failure of instructional design.
Tessa entered with popcorn while I paused a supported backbend.
“You have been staring at that woman’s hands for fifteen minutes.”
“I am reviewing safety protocols.”
“So Dani catches you.”
“That has happened under unusual conditions.”
“Treadmill, sled, Franklin’s leash.”
“The third incident was not training-related.”
“She still caught you.”
I reopened the packet. The scoring included balance, transitions, communication, and audience response. Touching was not listed, though the biomechanics made it unavoidable.
“Your launch video has twelve thousand views,” Tessa said.
I paused the video. “That cannot be correct.”
“You and Dani are the most popular challenge couple. A commenter said you look like you are trying to solve a problem with your mouths.”
