Page 48 of The Pack's Knotty Runaway
I’m pretty sure I only saw openings formaintenanceon Ash’s laptop. Is that a new opening or something?
“Yes,” she says, leaning forward, folding her hands over a small pile of crystals. “Tell me. How do you ground yourself when the energy of the universe turns turbulent? When the body resists the flow?”
I stare at her.
I’m a part-time firefighter and I fix things. My idea of grounding myself is a cold beer and a heavy bag. I have never done a downward dog in my life... I’m not even entirely sure which way is down on a dog.
But if I blow this, they might escort me off the property, which means no seeing Luna...
“I, uh.” I lean back, spread my knees, rest my hands on my thighs. “I listen to the heat.”
Her eyebrows climb. “The heat?”
“Yeah.” I nod, slow, drop my voice. “I find the friction. It’s about taking all that tension, you know? Finding the absolute tightest spots. The places that hurt. And then I breathe into them, lean into it, sweat it out.”
Her mouth parts.
“Sometimes,” I add, “you just have to let the fire strip you down to the ashes.”
She stares at me, and I practically wait for her to laugh me out the door. Instead, she presses a hand to her chest.
“Wow,” she breathes. “That is... deeply physical. So raw. So incrediblypresent.”
Holy shit, she bought it.
“I try,” I say, with a modest little shrug.
“I am very impressed.” She rises and extends both hands across the desk and I take them. Huh, she’s got a strong grip for a beta. “We need exactly that kind of intense, grounding masculine energy in our advanced vinyasa class. You’ll be a wonderful addition to Serenity Ridge.”
“Thank you.” I smile.
“You start today,” she says, handing me a laminated sheet. “Your schedule. Just follow the corridor behind the tapestry, and the first room on the left has all the gear. Namaste.” She presses her palms together and bows.
“Namaste,” I echo, then walk out the door.
Almost as soon as I step out, the door on my left opens and Ash steps out. Then the door on my right opens and Bram emerges.
We form a small circle.
“I’m a yoga instructor,” I say.
“A yoga instructor?” Ash whispers, staring at me. “How the hell did you manage that? I thought we all applied for maintenance.I’mmaintenance.”
He got the job we all came for. Of course, lucky bastard.
I look at Bram. Our pack’s eldest alpha’s shoulders are up around his ears. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, crinkled wad of black mesh.
“Bram,” I say slowly. “What is that?”
“I’m on the kitchen line,” he rumbles, holding the mesh up between two fingers. “They gave me a hairnet.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek. Hard. It isn’t enough.
The laugh punches out of me, bouncing off the bamboo all the way down the hall.
We’re in. But looking at Bram’s mesh net, I have a feeling keeping a low profile is going to be a lot harder than we thought.
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