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“Morning,” he grumbles, and I hurry and say it back before he notices me staring.
“Made you breakfast,” I tell him cheerfully, handing him a plate.
He looks up at me with a crooked grin. “Where’s the meat, Mads?”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, Hulk,” I playfully say. “Didn’t feel like cooking it. Trying to get some healthy fat and protein in before doing some yoga.”
“Yoga?” he asks, scoffing. “Wussie.”
I chuckle. “Oh really? Bet you wouldn’t last an hour.”
With a cocked eyebrow, he grins. “That’s a bet I’m willing to take.”
“Yeah? What are the stakes?” I ask, plopping down and digging into my food. I nearly inhale it, considering I didn’t eat last night.
Liam runs his hand across the scruff on his chin. It’s clear he’s not completely awake yet, so I take the opportunity to study the tattoos lining his shoulders and chest. They’re impossible to miss, especially when I’m fantasizing about my tongue tracing them. “If I last an hour without messing up before you, then you have to cook dinner tonight and lunch tomorrow.”
“And what’s in it for me if I kick your ass?” I counter, knowing his big muscles won’t help him when it comes to balance and stamina.
“Then I’ll cook,” he says.
“But I want breakfast tomorrow too. So, a healthy dinner tonight, then breakfast and lunch tomorrow. Do we have a deal?”
Liam holds out his hand, and we shake on it. “Better bring your A game, Mads.”
A snort escapes me. “You’re going down, Hulk.”
“We’ll see,” he tells me, then sets his plate in the sink. “Okay, so now that I’ve had my appetizer…” He pats his hard rock stomach. “Time for some real food.”
“Sure you want to do yoga with a full belly?” I arch a brow at him.
“I can out yoga you any day of the week,” he retorts confidently.
I laugh. “That sounds like fightin’ words to me. Eat up then. Stuff your face. I’m gonna stretch because you’re going down, big boy.”
Grabbing my tea, I sip it as I go to Sophie’s room and change clothes. I put on a sports bra and some yoga pants, then grab the two mats Sophie and I use when we work out together. I walk into the living room and search for my favorite yoga channel. Once I’m stretched and warmed up, Liam tells me to give him a minute to go change. If I had a vote, if we were voting, I’d say no clothes at all. Naked yoga with Liam sounds perfect.
When he comes downstairs, he’s wearing a tight-fitting T-shirt and shorts. I hand him a bright pink mat with a laugh.
He rolls it out, then glances at the screen before looking at me.
“No way. You don’t get to choose which one we do. It can’t be one you already know. Tryin’ to cheat?”
I scoff. “That wasn’t in the rules. And no, I don’t have to cheat to beat you.”
“Someone’s overly confident, aren’t they?” A laugh escapes him as he grabs the remote, then scrolls through all the yoga exercises On Demand until he finds an extremely advanced level one-hour class. I narrow my eyes at him as he presses play and wears a sexy little smirk.
“Wait. Do you actually know how to do yoga?” I ask as we move into a downward dog position, noticing how controlled he is.
“You should’ve asked me that before we started.” He snickers, holding the position.
“Oh my God. You slimy bastard!” I growl.
He’s full-on laughing his ass off as we start in a basic plank, then quickly transition into a side plank, which is arguably one of the most annoying poses on the entire fucking planet. He does it so effortlessly, though, you’d think he practices ballet too. Jerk.
The instructor goes back to more basic poses—cobra, locust, fish, bow, and a shoulderstand—
before moving to more advanced poses. Liam isn’t winded or complaining about anything. I’m impressed as hell as we continue for forty-five minutes. I’m dreading what’s coming next because there are a few poses I suck at, and if one of those happen, I’ll lose my ass to him. Liam doesn’t seem like he’ll let me live it down either, especially considering I talked so much shit.
Hand scorpion, half lotus crow, big toe bow—I nail them all. Peacock, hummingbird, and one-legged staff are all easy, considering how much ballet experience I have.
He glances at me when we go into the dancers split. “Now you’re just showing off,” he says, sweat forming on his brow.
“I can stand like this all day, baby,” I gloat. “But I’ve learned I’m not the only one who’s flexible.”
And then, when I think we’re almost done, the last pose is one I’ve dreaded: sayanasana—a scorpion pose variation. Fuck. I want to scream, but I don’t want to show my cards. It’s important that I keep my poker face just in case he can’t do this one either. I look at Liam, and the asshole grins from ear to ear. For as long as I’ve been dancing and doing yoga, I’ve never once in my entire life been able to properly hold this one. I know it’ll be my downfall, but miracles happen, so I try my hardest.
