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“Sure,” he states, landing flat on his ass. I lower myself and shake out my muscles so I can watch him struggle.
“Is that sweat on your brow?” I taunt.
“Just glistening, like a delicious donut.” He tries again and holds it for two seconds before losing his balance. His brows are furrowed, but he doesn’t throw in the towel.
“Let’s move on.” I rotate my wrists. “Now, you’re gonna start in a plank, but it’s important to warm up your wrists so we’re going to shift our body weight forward and back.”
After we’re done with that, I point my fingertips toward me, and Easton follows. I reach over and move his wrists farther apart.
“Walk your feet back into a plank and bend your elbows, then lean as far forward as you can.” My feet lift off the ground, and my body is suspended, straight as a board. This is one of the hardest poses I’ve ever mastered, and I can’t hold it as long as the others. Easton falls forward.
He bursts into heavy laughter, and I notice the way his heart rate ticks in his neck. He rolls onto his back, and I lie next to him, looking up at the clouds rolling overhead.
“So ready to admit that yoga kicked your ass?”
“Nah.” He turns and looks at me. Our faces are mere inches apart. The smell of his sweat mixed with the fresh scent of his soap lingers, and I find myself thinking about things I shouldn’t. There’s something in Easton’s gaze, something I can’t quite make out, and I wonder if I’m imagining the way he looks at me.
I arch a brow, and he shrugs. “Just a little practice, and I’ll be a pro.”
“Riiiiiiight.” The sun is higher in the sky, and I wipe sweat from my forehead. Though we’ve only been going for an hour, I know I’ll be sore tomorrow. It’s been a while since I’ve done so many poses that use different muscle groups.
“Guess we should go inside before it gets too hot.” I feel sweaty all over now that I’m no longer moving.
Easton stands and holds out his hand for me. I grab it, but he uses too much strength, and I stumble into him.
I look up into his eyes. Our breaths and sweat mix as the warm breeze brushes against our skin, and for a brief second, I wonder how soft his lips are.
“My fault. I hulked ya.” He laughs, then grabs our towels. We slowly make our way back to the beach house, our arms brushing together as we walk. I love being with Easton because he doesn’t force me to talk or try to entertain him. There is no awkwardness in our silence, and I appreciate it more than he knows, because I like not having to say anything.
“That was fun,” I admit when we step inside. “But now I’m starving.”
“I’ll make breakfast,” he offers, moving to the kitchen.
“Let me.” I open the fridge and pull out the eggs and bacon.
Easton grabs two plates, then makes some coffee. He fills a mug and hands it over while watching me cook. His lower back is pressed against the counter.
“You don’t trust my cooking, do you?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Not sure how to say this, but yeah. No more olives and jalapeños in my breakfast.”
“It would be hard for me to fuck up eggs and bacon, though.”
“But if anyone could, it’d be you,” I add, poking fun at him.
“I’m hurt.” He holds his hand over his heart. “But you’re not wrong.”
“While I’m not picky, I do like my bacon crispy but not burnt,” I explain.
After I’ve put our food on plates, we move to the table and eat. Though it’s a huge space, Easton sits beside me.
“I like to look at the beach while I eat,” he says, scooting even closer. Easton takes a bite of his eggs and moans. “Guess you’re on breakfast duty from here on out.”
“Perfect, considering it’s my favorite meal of the day.”
We fall silent for a few minutes, staring outside.
“Since you showed me some yoga today, I think tomorrow is the day you surf.”
I nearly choke on my food. “So soon?”
“Yeah,” he says with a chuckle.
“Not sure how much fun it’ll be teaching. I could just watch.”
“Nice try. We’ll get up at dawn.”
I find myself staring at his lips, then meet his gaze. “And I’ll wear the bathing suit you conveniently got me?”
His smile widens. “I anticipated you’d want to get in the water, but you’ll want to wear the bikini bottoms along with the rash guard.”
I smirk. “How presumptuous of you.”
Easton points outside. “With water like that in your backyard, I was thinking ahead.”
“You weren’t wrong,” I admit, actually looking forward to spending the day with him.
After he takes his last bite of eggs, Easton puts his dirty dishes in the sink. I finish my bacon, and he slides my plate up too.
