Sushi and Sun Salutations

by Hutchinson, Heidi

  Sushi

  and

  Sun Salutations

  Soaring Bird, Book 2

  © 2018 Heidi Hutchinson

  Smashwords Edition

  SUSHI AND SUN SALUTATIONS

  Smashwords Edition

  ©2018 Heidi Hutchinson

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Photos purchased from Shutterstock

  Cover designed by Heidi Hutchinson

  Editing done by Jo Evans

  Proofreading by All Encompassing Books

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review. Please do not participate in encouraging piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations, are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, dialogue, and events are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Other titles by Heidi Hutchinson

  Double Blind Study Series:

  Learn to Fly

  In Your Honor

  Tectonic

  Deepest Blues

  The Hope That Starts

  Brand New Sky

  Into the Night We Shine

  Soaring Bird Series:

  Like the Back of My Halo

  Sushi and Sun Salutations

  In Between Series:

  In Between the Earth and Sky

  In Cold Mud Series:

  Stubborn Hearts

  Crossover with Bria Quinlan:

  Things That Shine

  www.heidih.net

  To my Kati,

  I love doing life with you, Peaches

  CHAPTER 1

  When I look outside the window

  I wonder what makes the flowers grow

  Could it be as simple as the sun

  Or is it to spite the snow

  -Tessa, age 16

  TESSA

  “Breathe into the stretch.”

  Tessa inhaled sharply through her nose and then gasped.

  She pretended like it wasn’t the loudest sound in the room, but she was lying to herself.

  Which made sense, it’s what she did.

  “Sink your weight back onto your heels as far as you can and—”

  And black out.

  Tessa blinked against the spots forming in her vision. Her pulse pounded in her ears and her lungs strained against her too-tight sports bra.

  The dainty puddle of sweat that had formed on her brand-new yoga mat was now the size of Manhattan.

  Hell wasn’t this hot.

  “Are you okay?” A concerned whisper spoke directly to her right.

  Tessa fought against the desire to pass out.

  “Uh-huh,” she grunted. “Peachy.”

  The soft chuckle that followed let her know exactly how convincing she sounded.

  It didn’t matter. She was going to die.

  Here.

  Now.

  In a puddle of her own sweat, choking on the smell of someone’s poor lunch choices.

  Seriously?

  What kind of sick individual ate spicy Thai right before locking themselves in a sauna with strangers?

  Probably a direct relative of her upstairs neighbor, she thought sourly.

  The instructor spoke again. Tessa tried to decipher the instructions through the red haze clouding her vision and the pounding in her ears. She lifted one arm and rotated her body.

  And kept going.

  One arm windmilled above her as she struggled to keep her balance, while the other hand attempted to grip the mat through her sweat-puddle with its fingertips.

  Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work.

  Honestly, falling down was the least of her issues. She fell often enough that it wasn’t even embarrassing anymore.

  But the way the mats were situated—and the apparent popularity of the class (what?!)—there was no way for this to happen without involving others.

  The thing with hot yoga wasn’t just the sweat. Or the smell.

  It was the sweat combined with the smell.

  Like a gooey soup of wasted time and broken dreams.

  Oh, yeah. Tessa had fallen over by this point.

  Her goo was currently mixing with a stranger’s goo as he struggled beneath her.

  Nothing about this moment was sexy.

  Or healthy.

  Tessa stared up at the ceiling, wondering where she’d gone wrong in life. She worked hard, paid her bills, got along with people (mostly). So why? Why was public humiliation part of the deal?

  Fine, lesson learned. Hot yoga was not for her.

  It might be for all the other people in this room, including the person pushing against her butt, but not her.

  Her long body bobbled on the struggling and straining arms of the person below her and she didn’t care. She’d gone what Spencer called “boneless” — that thing little kids do when someone is trying to force them to do something they really have no interest in doing. It was her silent protest.

  Really though. Where had it all gone wrong? Had there been a singular decision in her past that led her to this moment?

  That morning had started out as well as any other.

  She’d eaten her Greek yogurt, showered, made it to work ten minutes early, completed her Friday route for Narrs and Beltzer—the pharmaceutical company she repped— and got off work on time. Then she’d changed into her cute pink and black matching yoga pants, sports bra, and tank top. A gift from Spencer for her something new that week.

  But now she was being pushed toward the ceiling by the person she’d crushed into the yoga mat next to hers. They were firmly gripping her derriere with both hands.

  She had the ass for it too. She wasn’t even embarrassed. If anything, she was impressed this person had such a firm grasp on her most prominent physical feature.

  This was the universe telling her to stop trying to be a more interesting person.

  Guess what, Universe. You can suck it.

  As if the universe heard her (doubtful), she was heaved into the air and tossed to the side like a sack of potatoes. Actually, she was tall. So not so much a sack of potatoes. Something longer. Maybe a sack of dog food.

  “Uhhgg.” The air rushed out of her lungs when she hit the floor.

  “Are you okay?”

  Tessa nodded while twisting onto her side to stand up. She didn’t look at the person who had thrown her. “Peachy,” she responded, sounding brighter than she felt.

  “Is everything okay back there?” The instructor called across the room. By the sound of her voice, she was on the approach.

  Awesome. Let’s bring more people into this fabulous moment of her life. Tessa jumped to her feet, her long dark (and super damp) ponytail swinging around and slapping her in the face.

  “Yep. Everything’s fine here.” Tessa glanced to the side and finally looked at the person she’d tried to crush with her inability to stay upright.

  Oh.

  It was a cute boy.

  No.

  He was a man.

  A cute man. A cute boy-man.

  “Lergrla,” she said, meaning “hello.”

  Her face flamed hot and she sucked in a deep breath, wishing she’d never accepted the coupon for the free hot yoga class.

  Eyes the color of sea glass scanned her face. A slight frown tugged at his dark eyebrows and his lips parted.

  Sh
e didn’t wait to see what happened next.

  He was gorgeous.

  Therefore, she needed to leave.

  The instructor, Quinn, had made her way to the back of the class by now. Tessa dropped to her knees and rolled her mat up, ignoring how her sweat spilled out the side onto the floor. It didn’t matter anyway since she would never be coming back.

  “I just remembered,” she said standing back up and giving her best apologetic smile to Quinn. “I need to be drunk right now.”

  Quinn’s head jerked back just slightly.

  Tessa felt her eyes round, but the words had already come out. And as everyone already knows, once words have left your mouth, they’re not coming back. She swallowed, tucked the yoga mat under her arm and headed for the door.

  Wow.

  Good job, Tess. Way to look even more spastic than you really are.

  She bent in half just enough to catch the strap of her canvas bag she’d left along the back wall, but she didn’t slow down.

  There was a pitcher of margaritas at home that were not going to make themselves.

  Maybe Spencer would be home. She could really use some decent girl time.

  With Lo off galivanting around the globe with her perfect job and her hot guy, and Spencer pretending like she was a liberated woman, Tessa had been left on her own way too much for her liking.

  She needed human contact.

  Not just any humans, but humans who cared about her.

  The fresh air on her face was like heaven as it cooled her drenched body.

  Never again.

  Hot yoga was the worst.

  The actual worst. Those people in there were clearly in on some sort of elaborate prank to get the world to try weird and painful things all in the name of health and fitness.

  And she’d fallen for it like the fool she was.

  Oh well. She had a dozen or so things she could add to her life to make it more interesting. It didn’t have to be hot yoga.

  “Hey!”

  Tessa’s left eye twitched at the sound of the male voice pursuing her. She shook her keys out of her purse and shoved them at the lock of her car door.

  The reflection of the sweaty cute guy appeared in her driver’s side window and she grimaced. Why was he following her? Why couldn’t he just let the wreck of the Tessa Train 101 continue to blaze and burn out all alone?

  Must he gawk?

  “Hey,” he said more quietly as he reached her.

  She finally unlocked the door and swung it open. She hurled her yoga mat and purse into the passenger seat and sucked in a stabilizing breath as she faced her unwanted pursuer.

  “Look,” she stated firmly, squeezing her keys into a fist, the metal biting into her flesh. “I’m sorry I ruined your zen moment. I’m sorry I sweat all over you and nearly crushed you to death in a place I’m sure you thought was safe. I can’t take it back, but I swear it’ll never happen again.”

  He tilted his head slightly as a soft smile tugged at his lips.

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. “You were kind of out of it. Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

  Tessa blinked as she tried to ignore the way his thin shirt clung to his chest and arms. Every delineation of muscle, tendon, and vein noticeable in a very attractive way.

  Why was she noticing his stunning physique instead of driving away like a bitch on fire?

  “I’m not an alcoholic,” she said. Because that was the best way to introduce yourself.

  “That’s good,” he responded, clearly fighting a smile.

  “I really need to go,” she stated, realizing nothing about this moment was going to get any better. “So much. Need to go.”

  “Aren’t you—” he stopped, a question forming and then resolving on his face. “Yeah, you hang with Clementine, right?”

  Tessa froze and swallowed. She took a breath and scanned his attractive face again.

  A peculiar sense of familiarity flared like a first spark of a brush fire in the deep recesses of her mind.

  He had dark hair, thick and two months past when it should have been cut. The ends curled at his forehead and around his ears. His eyebrows matched the color of the hair on his head in straight slashes above his eyes.

  And the eyes.

  Green. Pale green. The irises were rimmed in a light brown that jutted into the green with amber spikes, casting shadows and shimmer in the sea glass.

  His face was tanned from being in the sun, and his body was lean and muscular. Whether that was from surfing or yoga, she didn’t know. But it reminded her of Lo’s build. And Lo practically lived in the water.

  His jaw was angular and tapered into a narrow chin. High cheekbones created pretty hollows to his cheeks and when he smiled, two stark dimples stood out. Nearly taking away from the perfect size and shape of his lips.

  Yes, he was familiar.

  But the longer she gazed at him, the more she was convinced it was because she’d dreamt of him.

  Because men that beautiful didn’t tend to exist.

  At least not in real, real life.

  Maybe on TV.

  It was his unassuming attractiveness that was making her uncomfortable.

  Sexy in stealth mode.

  “My name’s Kip,” he introduced after she had been staring and not speaking for at least a minute. He stuck out his hand.

  Her eyes dropped to it.

  Long fingers attached to an attractive hand, followed by a masculine wrist, up to a dusting of dark hair on his forearm which was accompanied by tattooed script that seemed to frame an octopus that wrapped around his wrist and up his bicep.

  “Uh, Tessa,” she answered slowly, eyes affixed to the octopus.

  It wasn’t a piece she’d seen before. Mostly black but with hints of emerald green and navy blue swirled into the gray shading. And not scary. No fangs or evil eyes or death involved. Just this gorgeous sea creature, hanging out on the arm of a gorgeous guy.

  For some reason a line of poetry tripped back into her mind.

  The sea is nothing.

  And I am nothing.

  Yet I am the seas.

  And all three of my hearts beat for you.

  “Tessa,” Kip interrupted her tire screeching memory. He smiled slowly as he said her name, like he was enjoying the taste of it.

  Oh geez. She was a mess. A complete and total self-sabotaging natural disaster.

  “You sure you’re okay to drive?” he asked, his head tilting just enough to show genuine apprehension, but not enough to feel like pity.

  “Yeah,” she huffed in a sigh. “Yes,” she clarified carefully. “Thank you for your concern. I am… fine.”

  “Okay.” He nodded and took a step back. “I’ll probably see you around.”

  Tessa smiled tightly and swung into her car. She grabbed the door handle and began to pull it shut when she stopped. He was right. They’d probably see each other again. And this was a hell of an introduction.

  “I’m not—” she called out and stopped. Shit. Well. Now she’d started. “I’m not crazy,” she said.

  Kip winked. “Got it. Not an alcoholic. Not crazy.” His eyes lit up with a dance she’d never seen but, damn it, she wished she knew the steps. “Just not a fan of yoga.”

  Her brow immediately furrowed. “Yoga’s the worst.”

  Kip chuckled and shook his head. “Just drive safe.”

  Tessa’s lips flattened for a beat before she finally pulled the door closed.

  The temperature in Huntington Beach was in the mid-70s, but the remnants of yoga hell still burned on her skin. She turned the air conditioning on full blast before she began her drive home.

  Okay, so hot yoga was not going to become a new part of her life. She knew that now. And while it had sucked, and she truly, truly hated it, she was proud of herself for trying.

  By the time she reached the apartment she shared with Spencer, the air in the car was ice cold and her sweaty hair was pla
stered to the skin of her neck, chest, and back.

  As her car eased down her street she felt her temporary peace dissolving.

  “Why?” she asked out loud, shaking her head at the car parked partially in her spot.

  “I mean, at least have the backbone to fully steal my spot. What is this shit?” she muttered, pulling into the alley and reversing.

  They had gotten new neighbors a few weeks ago. Tessa hadn’t met them yet, but she’d heard them. They lived directly above her and Spencer.

  Each apartment unit was assigned two parking spaces. The new neighbors were either complete assholes or shit-tastic parkers because for three weeks one of them had taken up between a quarter to a third of Tessa’s spot. Making it impossible for her to park her car where she wanted. Instead, she’d been having to parking in the extra lot across the street.

  One of these days she was going to squeeze her Honda into the spot anyway and they’d just have to deal.

  She parked the car across the street and closed her eyes, resting against the seat back for a moment.

  Her phone rang and she answered without opening her eyes.

  “Hey.”

  “…Tessa?” Spencer asked carefully.

  “Yep.”

  “Is everything okay?” Spencer asked with a small laugh.

  “I’m alive if that’s what you mean.” Tessa sighed and opened her eyes. “Are you off work? Should I start the margaritas?”

  Spencer cleared her throat and Tessa just knew what was coming next.

  The lie.

  “Actually, I have to work tonight. I’ll probably be home late.”

  “Are you seeing Garrett again?” Tessa asked, already knowing the answer but wanting Spencer to say it.

  The silence on the other end was more of a confirmation than Tessa really wanted. Because it wasn’t denial and it wasn’t an excuse. It was a silence heavy with guilt.

  Or worse.

  “Please come home tonight,” Tessa pleaded quietly. “Just once this week come home.”