when Astrid stays perfectly in position, pride fills my chest and I grin. “Look at that. Perfect. You sure you’ve never done this before?”
Astrid holds it for a few seconds longer and then bends both knees before landing on them on the mat, her long blonde ponytail soaked with sweat flipping back and nearly reaching her ass encased in black leggings as she looks up at the instructor. The woman beside her must tell her good job, because my girl turns to face her, and I see she has a smile on her face as she says, “Thanks!”
Either she sees me in her peripheral vision or she senses someone watching her, because her eyes come to mine, and her smile widens but her gaze softens as she lifts her hand to wiggle her fingers in a little wave.
My heart does palpitate then, and I mouth, “Goddess,” seeing her cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink than they already were from the heat of the room.
“Very good, everyone. If this is the end of your workout for the day, lie on your back and I’ll dim the lights. Close your eyes, and for those of you who’d like a cold lavender towel, rest your hand on your stomach and I’ll come around and place them on your forehead. If you’re not done working out for the day, you may leave your mats where they are, and you have the option to grab a cold towel on your way out. Namaste.” The instructor finishes with a bow of her head, and Astrid hops up from her mat and makes her way to me, her ponytail swinging out behind her.
When she gets near, I reach out for her, but she bats my hands away. “Sweaty and gross,” she hisses, but she stands on her tiptoes and puckers her lips for a kiss.
I meet her the rest of the way, and although I want to wrap my arms around her, not giving one fuck about how sweaty she is, she seems to be squeamish about being touched when she’s sticky, so I resist for her sake. I don’t know yet if it’s a trigger or if she just doesn’t like it, so I’m not going to push her when she’s made it clear she doesn’t want it.
I follow her out the door, admiring the lines of her graceful neck down her feminine back slick with sweat, her skin visible as she only wears a sports bra as her top, then the gentle flare of her hips and ass. She bends to grab one of the rolled-up white washcloths from the freezer, the cotton sounding crispy as she unrolls it and presses it flat to her face.
She groans at the coolness against her heated flesh, and I hear her inhale deeply before she pulls it away, staring down at the washcloth as if it were a treasure map. “Oh my God,” she moans, lifting it to her face again and breathing in a lungful of air. When she pulls it away again, she looks up at me, her eyes wide. “Smell this!” she commands, and she lifts the white cloth to my nose.
I inhale as she ordered, a smile pulling at my lips at the mystified look in her eyes.
“There’s lavender… in the towel,” she says, as if it’s the greatest discovery in mankind’s history.
“Yes, goddess. As the instructor said, cold lavender towels,” I remind her.
She shakes her head. “Yeah, but I thought she meant like… the towel would be lavender.” She holds it up in front of my face for me to get a good look at it. “It’s not.” She shakes her head again. “It’s white. And it smells like lavender!”
“Try putting it on the back of your neck,” the woman who was next to her in the studio suggests, and Astrid lifts a brow to add to her wide eyes before doing just that.
“Oh… ma… goy-d,” she states dramatically, her eyes rolling back in her head, and when the other woman chuckles and walks off, Astrid turns to me. “I think that lady just fixed me, because I’m pretty sure I just came.”
I can’t help it. It comes so out of nowhere that I throw my head back and laugh so loud it echoes around the room. I hear someone’s angry “Shhh!” and I look over to see the instructor glaring at me as she reaches out to close the door, and I stage-whisper a “Sorry!” before it shuts.