CHAPTER 13
A WEEKEND OFF was supposed to leave you feeling rested, right?
Right.
But it didn’t. I’d lain awake half the night thinking about two very different men, and at five past eight in the morning, I found myself being folded in half by a third.
“Butt in the air, Tia. Higher. Higher!” Ishmael squawked at me. “And Myrna, what do you call that? This is downward facing dog, not the funky rhino.”
Myrna grunted as she tried to straighten her legs. Nope. Her rhino was still funky. Ishmael shuffled onto his own hot pink yoga mat, straightened his headband, and proceeded to lead us through ten torturous rounds of sun salutations and a series of warrior poses. My thighs were quivering by the time the session ended, and not in a good way.
“Is it safe?” Jenna poked her head around the doo
