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"I love it," he says, his voice low and husky. "You look gorgeous as hell in it."
I walk over to him, standing close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. "Thanks, Jack. You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately."
He raises an eyebrow. "What exactly have you been thinking about?"
I lean in closer and whisper in his ear. "I've been thinking about what it would be like to, ahem…do you like you did me.”
I can feel him tense up as I speak, and I know I've hit a nerve. He clears his throat and takes a step back. The grin falls from his face.
"Amelia, Jesus. What the fuck?”
“What?” I giggle.
“I’m starting to think you might be insane. What have we said about crossing lines? You told me this was a mistake.”
I pout and playfully push against his chest. "Come on, Jack. You know you want me. I can see it in your eyes."
Is this wrong? Am I wrong?
I just want to know…if he wants me the way I want him.
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I do want you, Amelia. But we have to think about the consequences of the entire fucking yoga retreat hearing the noises you’ll make.”
He takes one more look at me, then puts on a hat. “Now I’m going for a walk to clear my head. You need to cut it out.”
“Or else what?”
He grins. “Or else I’m going to murder you in your sleep.”
My heart hammers. “Um…what?”
“Yeah. The serial killer vibes you’re getting? They’re real.”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking.”
He laughs, and winks. “Kidding, Amelia. The only death I want to make you feel isla petite mort.”
Something about Jack speaking French—even a tiny phrase like that—makes my skin tingle.
“Good night, Jack.”
“Sweet dreams.”
* * *
When I wakeup early on the third day of the retreat, I feel refreshed and ready to tackle the day's yoga classes. That morning, I walk to the beach and meditate. The sun is just starting to rise, casting a warm glow over the lush green trees and sparkling blue ocean.
Funny enough, I spot Jack on the beach from a distance, and he’s giving surf lessons to Kevin.
This warms my heart. I thought all the guy cared about was his business and money. It’s nice to see he actually has people he cares about.
Obviously he’s not giving this boy surfing lessons for the money.
Like Brad, who charged us twenty bucks each.
That morning as I take my spot on my mat, I notice a face near me in the class who I haven’t been introduced to yet. Her name is Vylana and she's from Denmark. We strike up a conversation during downward dog and I learn that she's on the retreat to find some inner peace and relaxation. I can relate to that, as I came here with the same goal in mind.
After class, Vylana and I decide to grab a smoothie at the juice bar in the town. As we sit outside enjoying our drinks in the shade of the balcony of the retreat center, she asks me about my roommate at the retreat.
