to see if she was there. And she had been. Naked. Doing yoga. Every single day.
I never stared. Never did more than just quickly glance, but it was enough to get me hard each and every time. I knew it was wrong. I shouldn’t be peeping like a fucking creep. But I couldn’t help myself. And not only that, something in the back of my mind, told me that she was doing it knowing that I could see her.
I knew that sounded ridiculous. Olivia didn’t play games. She was the most upfront, put her cards on the table person I knew. If she wanted me to see her naked, she’d show up on my doorstep in her birthday suit. Just like she’d shown up with her mom’s chicken and called me out on moving in here to spy on her.
But that only proved my suspicion. She knew that I was keeping an eye on her, so why would she do that if she knew I could see her unless she wanted me to see her?
The entire sordid situation was messing with my mind in a big way. As was living this close to her and not speaking to her. Keeping her at arm’s length emotionally had been a hell of a lot easier when she’d been at arm’s length physically. It had never been an out of sight out of mind situation with her. I always thought about her. Every day. But when she was hundreds, sometimes thousands of miles away, it had been easier to resist the magnetic pull that she had on me.
Over the past week, she’d come to the door several times, but I hadn’t answered it. I’d avoided going to the bar or the diner because I hadn’t wanted to run into her. I’d done my grocery shopping in Parish Creek just so I wouldn’t run into her at the H-E-B in Wishing Well.
In the back of my mind, I knew that I was being ridiculous. If I was going to stay in town, I needed to figure out how to be around her and not want to throw her up against the nearest hard surface and fuck her. That inappropriate, primitive impulse was exactly why I hadn’t talked to her since the dinner and why I’d eaten in record time and told her I was tired, for all intents and purposes kicking her and Channing out after less than twenty minutes.
Olivia had always done something to me. She’d always affected me in a way that no one else ever had. But now that we were older, it was so much stronger than it had been when we were younger. She inspired things in me on a deeper, primal level. I didn’t just want to kiss her or make love to her, I wanted to rip her clothes off and drive into her over and over again. I wanted to claim her. I wanted her to forget that any other man had ever existed.
So, I was back to keeping my distance. It had been torture. But I was hoping that the restorative yoga class that my new PT had recommended would help ease some of the tension that I’d been feeling. I’d never done yoga before, but I had an entirely new appreciation for it after witnessing Olivia do it every morning.
As I drove the short distance to the community center where the class was held, I had to admit I was a little bit concerned that I wouldn’t be able to keep up. It was strange getting used to living in a body with limitations. All my life I’d been an athlete, so I’d stayed in competitive shape. If I wanted my body to do something or be something, I would push myself until I did it or achieved it.
Dr. Weston, or Jake, had assured me that it would be mainly stretching and breathing but there was still a nagging insecurity that it would be beyond my capabilities. My fears, however, were put to rest when I pulled into the community center parking lot and saw Dixie Rose Porter, Edith Scoggs, Barbara-Jean Nelson, and Dorothy Higgins were all congregated outside with their yoga mats slung over their shoulders. All four of the ladies had been card-carrying AARP members since before I was born. Maybe this class would be just my speed.
I found a spot beneath a large oak tree and parked. The Texas sun was no joke but there was a nice breeze this afternoon