BAE SUZY thinks she's got everything figured out. But then a visit from a family friend turn her life upside down and throws all her beliefs into question.
NAM JOOHYUK is still reeling from a breakup that shattered his heart and his startup business...
I pulled up the cropping tool, selecting the space. I wanted to focus in on, when my eyes feel upon something in the background. Not something . . . someone. Joohyuk. He was up against the far wall, staring into the crowd. A few clicks and I came in closer on his face. I got up from the bed to grab my sketchpad and a pencil off my desk.
Nam Joohyuk was an intriguing subject.
✿ Secrets of Attraction ✿
Her fingers were in my hair again, the tips grazing my scalp, smoothing the hair away from my face. She was so close-I could smell her lip gloss, something sweet and sugary like lolipop. The way she was standing I could easily pull her down to my lap, run my hands along the smooth, soft curves outlined by her jeans, taste her mouth. My tongue felt on fire.
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"Breathe," Haein commanded.
I reached out from my waist, hips aligned, then leading with my right hand, tilted toward the ground, forming a perfect triangle. Trikonasana was my pose. I was a statue. A rock. My feet firmly planted on my yoga mat.
Haein, a.k.a. Hot Yogi, walked the room with his hands clasped behind his back. Slouchy black pants, gray tank, dark eyes looking at everyone and no one.
It was hard not to picture him naked.
"Trikonasana is a full-body openeer. Spiral the femur bone inward, feel the stretch across the front of your chest, same as cobra. Imagine yourself between two panes of glass." His gravelly voice echoed all the way down to my stability.
Between two panes of glass.
With you, Haein.
Stephanie looked over her shoulder and wiggled her fingers in greeting as she reached toward the ceiling. We'd been taking class on Thursday nights at Calming Yoga along with my mom since October. Eomma took it stave off her mid forties. When she asked me to join her, I begged Stephanie to come along so at least I'd have someone to snicker with. Turned out, we both enjoyed the chill feeling we had after class. I also liked it because I was height-challenged, but after an hour of stretch, I felt about six feet tall. (Okay, maybe more like five foot six-still, taller.) For the first month a pear-shaped, aging hippie named Cindy taught the class. Her ample booty defied gravity but halfway through January she herniated a disc in her lower back and took a leave of absence.
In walked Haein.
The class had started out with fifteen women. After word of the Adonis in yoga pants, it doubled in size. Stephanie and I were the token college students. The majority of the class was made up of moms and twentysomethings. There were a handful of guys who either came to class with their wives or seemed to know Haein from the other studio where he taught. I'd never wished for an hour to feel longer in my whole life. He made yoga sexy.
Haein stopped beside Stephanie and touch the spot between her shoulder blades, then leaned down and whispered something to her. She lengthened into the pose, reaching upward with her outstretched arm. Her fishtail braid slipped from her shoulder as she looked toward the ceiling. The side of her mouth curled in an almost imperceptible grin.
