Rocky Mountain Affairs

One

A tease of my next book... -May

~ Sam ~

Hot yoga was Toby's idea. It was supposed to be relieving my "stress". As if bending myself into ridiculous shapes and pretending it didn't hurt every muscle of my body before wasn't enough, adding heat was my literal hell. I couldn't find the thermostat to see the temperature I'd be dying at, but judging by the amount of sweat pouring from my forehead to my mat, it was around 90 degrees inside and 100 degrees and humid outside in downtown Grand Lake.

"And exhale," the instructor said, continuing his instruction from the center of the room.

I had exhaled at least thirty seconds before being told. My body seemed to prefer when my lungs were allowed to breathe. I was quick to inhale another breath just to release it along with the class.

"Inhale slowly and transition from your gate pose to Ubaya Konasana."

Uba what?

I watched in horror as my fellow classmates lifted their outstretched legs just to spread them wide apart in the air. It looked like some sort of bendy mating invitation. One I was absolutely not attempting.

"You can do it," my mat neighbor assured me as she held the balls of her feet into the air. Her whisper received a glare from the instructor.

Feeling pressured and being the absolute pushover I was, I refrained from rolling up my mat, grabbing my water bottle, and calling it quits. If I arrived at the shop too early, Toby would never let me hear the end of it. But this was supposed to be alleviating my stress; not adding to it.

From my sitting position, I hiked my right leg into the air, followed by the left. My ass rocked backward, but as soon as I grabbed both ankles, I found some sort of balance that kept me from rocking like a Weeble Wobble.

My shaky muscles made it obvious this wasn't a pose I did often. Hell, I didn't workout often, other than some walks around town at night to clear my head. Every part of my body was shaking as if it was having some sort of seizure. I was grunting while trying to keep hold of my sweat-soaked ankles.

How the hell was everyone else making this look so easy? And why was it taking so long to switch to a new pose?

I could feel myself losing grip again without hope I'd be able to reclaim hold of my ankle. It was too hot. I was too sweaty. My concentration was non-existent from the moment I walked into the room. This needed to be over. When I lost the grip again, my body rocked to reclaim it.

Mistake.

I heard and felt the rip at the same time. While the cool breeze on my lady parts felt godsent, it simply delivered all the heat from that spot directly to my face. Embarrassment surged through me as about fifteen other classmates turned their heads to the noise. My thighs slapped closed, and I dropped myself back until I was lying flat on my mat. My eyes pressed shut, wishing this nightmare of a day would end.

"Fuck me," I whispered, not caring who heard.

It had not even been the worst part of my day thus far, and it was only ten in the morning.

***

"I'm sure it's happened to loads of people."

My cheeks lifted into some resemblance of a toothless smile, but it was anything but. They were the third person from the class to uplift me with this reassurance. Like that helped after half the room exploded into giggles.

After sliding on my shorts and a tee, I rolled my split leggings into a ball and tossed them a few feet towards the locker room's trash bin. They missed by a good foot, and all I could do was stare at yet another one of my failures. Four years of varsity basketball, and I couldn't throw my pants away without missing a bin twice the size of a hoop. I cursed the damn things as I picked them up and chucked them into the bin.