by V. K. Ludwig
I considered the idea long and hard. All the while, Max continued staring at his shoes, rubbing his black soles over the cream stretcher bond tiles.
Teaching Max what everyone here missed out on? Getting my point across? Yes, please! But something inside me squeezed my lunges, turning each breath into a battle for oxygen. What if Max lost control?
“I would love to help you guys, but I don’t think I am cut out for that.”
“Exactly!” He placed the empty bottle back on his desk and walked over to an expensive looking machine. His hand punched a couple of buttons with his knuckles, and a robotic arm set in motion with a deep hum. “I already told you that you don’t have what it takes to fill that position. But I’m glad you came to the same conclusion.”
“Yeah.”
I pulled my leg up, wrapped my arms around it and rested my head on my knee. The robotic arm dunked glass vials into a solution which stank of strong alcohol and positioned them upside down on what must have been a drying rack.
Max pulled black rubber gloves out of a drawer and placed them on the counter beside him. He rolled his sleeves up, a fine fuzz of light brown hair covering his strong arms.
“Just for the record,” I said, totally not too interested in the actual answer. “What exactly do I lack for that position?”
He fumbled his fingers into the gloves and held his hands up in front of his chest. “I’m not the most experienced guy when it comes to this stuff, as you pointed out. But I think that job requires someone who is capable of triggering at least some degree of affection in me.”
Ouch! Something inside me stung. Like a well-greased bullet, his words shot out and hit me right in the chest. I looked down at myself, expecting an entry wound somewhere close to my left breast. There was none.
“You make it sound like I am unlovable,” I mumbled.
His eyes wandered to the door as if hoping Ruth would walk back in. The silence between us felt like minutes. It was more like four seconds.
“Every Jill has her Jack,” he finally said, his voice strained. “My dad always used to say something similar. Let’s be honest with each other here. We’re not exactly getting on well with each other. I’m sure there’s a guy somewhere out there who is crazy enough…”
He throttled his own words and gave himself another second to reword. Not that he needed to. Crazy enough to love someone like me. I wouldn’t even have been mad if he said it — it’s not like I didn’t know.
“You’ll find a guy who’s crazy about you,” he said. “It’s just not going to be me during this trial. We are too different. It’s highly unlikely I would feel attracted to you, considering we cannot not argue.”
“Ever heard the phrase teasing is a sign of affection?” As soon as I realized what I had said, I sucked my lips into my mouth. I wasn’t teasing him. And I didn’t feel attracted to him. At all. My face tingled, and now I gazed at the door.
Max’s eyes came looking for mine; and found them. We stared at each other for a good while, not saying a word but still somehow communicating. Maybe exchanging secrets. Maybe death stares. I couldn’t tell.
“Are you eye-wrestling or what is that here?” Ruth asked. She placed herself between us in a wide stance, plummeting her hands onto her hips ready to draw and shoot at whoever starts another round of bickering. “Please tell me you didn’t argue again; otherwise I will have to run the lab all by myself while you guys work on your yoga skills all year.”
Max didn’t drop the eye contact. He just raised a brow and asked, “Yoga skills?”
“Uh-huh,” she said. “They want you two at the Pavilion of the Inner Mirror Wednesday morning at eight sharp. So you can look deep inside yourselves and overcome your differences. It’s a good thing that three-feet law doesn’t exist here, Max, or you would be screwed.”
“Does that mean we have to be close to each other?” I asked.
Ruth answered with a quick and all-encompassing uh-huh, sending shivers across my scalp. Yoga. Close to each other. The idea felt the wrong kind of right.
Chapter 10
Max
I gazed over the mirrored cube in front of us, our reflections slightly distorted. With the bustling sidewalks behind us, the silence surrounding this building made a scream holler through my insides. Of all punishments they could have imposed, it had to be this?
Autumn let her hand glide across the polished surface. “Why do they call it pavilion of the inner mirror, if the mirrors are entirely on the outside?”
“Ask Ruth, she might now.” Funny how I couldn’t even control the lazy shrug that just left my shoulders, heavy from how little I cared. “Let’s just go inside and get this over with.”
I led her around the building, following a narrow path of orange bricks until they stopped in front of yet another piece of mirror. The door opened automatically once we stepped up, and a whiff of Nag Champa hit me straight in the face.
Someone must have gone heavy on the incense sticks. Perhaps even someone from the council, helping us to open up, connect and all that other shit I didn’t want to do with this woman.
We stepped inside, and she immediately freaked out about the four walls of glass. She jumped up and down in front of them, making grimaces at the clueless passersby.
“It’s a one-way mirror,” I said and pointed at one of the signs. “We have to take our shoes and socks off.”
Long heavy shawls cascaded down the windows in equal distance. Between them, long strands of tiny lights sunk the room in a warm, yellow hue. Fern-colored walls grew in stark contrast from slate tiles.
“Which mat do we use?” she asked, giving another tug on her black pants. Way too tight, and an unnecessary display of her curves.
Nobody here cared about it, but somehow it still bothered me. In fact, it bothered me so much, I stared at it ever since we left the community home. It got me so upset, my body practically steamed underneath my wide linen pants and shirt.
“Who cares?” I asked and waved my hand through the room in a half circle. “They’re all the same anyway. Maybe choose one closer to a window; it’s kind of hot in here.”
She raised a brow at me, but I ignored it.
I spoke into the room. “Activate program. Volume off.”
From the ceiling, a compartment opened and a holo-projector lowered down. Bright and multicolored, light beams quickly created the hologram of a Yogi. He put his palms together, placed them in front of his chest and bowed.
I sat down on the mat and gave it a pat, gesturing Autumn to sit across from me.
“Are we the only ones?” She sat cross-legged in front of me, twirling her long hair into a bun. Not tight and neat like those Ruth wore to work each day. It was more like a makeshift type of bun, threatening to burst at any moment, with loose strands here and there she cared nothing about.
“Yup.” I pushed the purple pillows between us to the side. “We can argue as much as we want, shouting and all. Nobody will notice.”
She pushed her chest out and lifted her chin, almost in a daring manner. “Maybe we won’t argue at all today. Who knows… maybe you will realize that I would make a great constant variable.”
My heart gave my throat a knock as if it had something to say. I ignored it. “Don’t bother.”
Our Yogi sat down crossed legged, his lips probably mumbling wisdom about mindfulness and peace. Good thing I turned the volume down. He once more placed his hands, palms together, in front of his chest and closed his eyes.
“You have to do what he does,” I said, and closed my eyes.
“For how long?”
I took a deep breath. “A minute or so.”
“That’s long.”
For the next forty seconds, she shut her mouth — except for the dozens of huffs and puffs which blew through her nostrils like a broken quitting time whistle.
When I opened my eyes again, she stared right at me. “And now what?”
“Are you always this impatient?” I asked.
“Not impatient. Just bored. I don’t get why everyone here is into this yoga thing.”
“It helps us with self-regulation. Maybe something your men should look into?” I flung my thumb at the Yogi, not giving her any opportunity to snarl back at me. “He’s doing the beginner’s stuff. We can ignore him if you want and I will show you the sun salutations. But I am warning you, they can be tough after a while.”
“Sun Salutations.” She licked her upper lip as if she tasted the word in her mouth. “It has a peaceful ring to it, so I guess it’s perfect for the two of us.”
“Alright.” I got up and positioned myself behind her. “Stand in front of me, and I will guide you through the downward-facing dog. That’s the only thing you should nail before we do the entire thing.”
She rose in front of me, a strand of her copper hair gently brushing against her neck.
“I want you to fold your upper body down, but you gotta leave your legs straight.” To my surprise, she followed my instruction without complaint. With her torso upside down, gravity tugged on her shirt and revealed the skin of her back at a rate of one inch per breath.
The muscles around my ears clenched first. The jawline followed a second later. My brain told me to ignore it as I did for the last twenty-six years, but my eyes wouldn’t cooperate. They stared at each pore and every imperfection. I gave myself a quick reminder: you don’t like her.
I cleared my throat. “Now place your palms onto the mat and walk them forward, about halfway, but leave your legs where they are.”
“My legs are burning.”
“You can place your feet a bit farther apart if you want,” I said, “that will take some of the strain off your tendons and ligaments.”
“How far?”
“About this distance.” I bent over and grabbed one of her legs right above her ankle. Her muscles tensed. A “no” escaped her mouth which started out strong but turned into a whisper. A whisper which held fear, perhaps even panic. Two seconds later, she tumbled onto the mat.
When she gazed up at me from her blue eyes, a fine mist of cold sweat on her forehead, all I could do was hold my breath. What did I do wrong now? I wanted to ask her, but I couldn’t hold my breath and speak at the same time.
“Your touch came unexpected,” she whispered, almost as if she offered it as an apology.
“I am so sorry, Autumn.” I kneeled down beside her. “It’s so normal for me to touch someone over here, I just… I didn’t think, and —”
“It’s not your fault,” she said. “Your hand just startled me, that’s all. Let’s try it again.”
A soft smile moved in on her face, making me nearly dizzy. She had never smiled at me before.
I stretched my hand out and helped her up. Then I positioned myself at the end of the mat once more, with her in front of me. She bent down, her legs straight, and walked her hands toward the middle of the mat.
“Like that?” came muffled from below.
“Uh-huh. Now don’t startle again, ok? I’m going to push my foot between yours.”
I worked my toes between her heels, shifted them to the left and to the right. At my final push, her foot slipped, and her hips swayed, threatening to cave in. Without another thought wasted, I grabbed them, each of my fingers digging deep into her flesh until her bones pressed against mine. Heat radiated from my core and toward my thighs. Or maybe something else, hotter and more unpredictable — something out my control.
“I’m ok,” she said, an audible smirk on the pitch of her voice.
I let go of her hips and wiped my damp palms on my shirt.
God damn it, what is wrong with me today?
The council sent us to come here and work out our differences. But this wasn’t yoga. This was something out of a blacklisted romance novel.
Yet, for the first time, we seemed at peace.
“Um, ok,” I stammered. “This is called down dog for short.”
“Oh, I get it,” she said and wiggled her hips. Her butt cheeks hiked and dropped alternately, the shiny fabric leaving little to the imagination.
I had no control over how my jaw dropped at the sight. Overwhelmed by what was going on here, I rubbed my palm over my face.
Time to reassess the situation.
Surely, there had to be plenty of people out there who liked Autumn and knew her qualities. I wasn’t one of them.
She had no qualities I could appreciate. Not to mention she was a hot-headed, overly sensitive ignorant.
Whatever I was experiencing had nothing to do with her. My throat turned raw at my own lie. Ok, maybe she played a tiny part in it.
It’s trivial.
Barely noticeable.
I shook my head until my eyes couldn’t focus on her behind anymore. I went on. “Try to get your hips as high as possible, forming a nice sturdy triangle. Simply push your behind back a little until you —”
Her ass came crashing into my loins. Little was left between us but a layer of linen, and yoga pants so thin it pretty much counted as nothing at all.
The skin surrounding my crotch tingled, screaming for something I had no idea how to give. I should have pulled back. Should have taken a step away.
But holy fucking Jesus… why the hell did I want to touch her?
Feel those round curves once more.
Pull her even closer against me until…
Shit! I looked down at myself. Shit! Shit! Shit!
The most obvious of side effects stood straight and pointed right at me.
Ok, that’s new, but I can handle it.
Before I got a chance to move away, she lowered down onto her knees.
“My arms got tired,” she said, her cheeks flushed from being upside down so long. Or from heat. Why else?
I quickly turned my back at her, pretending I looked out the window. In reality, I let my eyeballs glimpse down at the boner which made my pants look like the tent of a Bedouin.
Among all the weird thoughts grinding my brain at that moment, dad would be proud was perhaps the most awkward one.
It must have been the odd one out. Definitely. Just an unaccounted reaction. Man, I had no idea just how big my penis could get.
I took a couple of deep breaths, hoping the chill of the air would cool my lungs. And perhaps everything else that needed cooling. “We better stick to the beginner’s stuff. I should have known this is way too advanced for you.”
She gazed up at me, her posture innocent. I imagined her underneath a tree back home, wisps of long waves blown into her face by a gentle breeze. This woman was gorgeous, with that powdery skin and the way she licked her pale pink lips. Her face was otherwise still, as non-threatening as her posture, but something danced behind her eyes.
A quick command brought the Yogi his voice back, calm and centered. The complete opposite of the storm which thundered inside me. Nothing about this made any sense.
“Am I doing this right?” she asked.
This time I chose a mat with a significant distance to her. “As long as you are doing what he’s doing, you’re gonna be fine.”
“I liked you better, but at least he doesn’t make me fall.”
Because he doesn’t press his cock against you. “Uh-huh, he’s a Yogi after all.”
We went through the beginner’s positions: her body firm and delicate, mine melting into a lethargic slouch. Whatever went on inside me, I couldn’t subject her to it like that.
She lay on her back, pushing her hips into the air. Sweetness suddenly filled the room. It might have gotten warmer in there as well.
My eyes indulged on her cleavage, where two perfectly formed mounds bulged underneath the force of gravity. What I wanted to do to them made my head ring an alarm. I’m just peeking. Perfectly harmless. I’ll count it as part of the experiment.
Once the program finished, the hologram requested a final position which required a partner. Her eyes flung toward me, and I suppressed letting my eyes blurt out my desperation.
We stood back
to back, her shoulder blades settling right underneath mine. Together, we bent our knees and lowered ourselves into a chair position. Slow and steady, keeping the pressure up where our bodies touched.
“I think we did well enough,” I said.
Tiny compared to mine, the heat which emanated from her small body came as a surprise.
“Yup.” She pressed harder against my back. “You think we did well enough to make me part of your trial?”
“What?”
“Did any of this trigger any unsuppressed sensations in you?”
“Of course not!” I jumped up and turned mid-air like a ninja. Autumn, however, dropped on her behind, her palms letting a smacking sound echo through the room.
She pressed the back of her head into the mat, giving me an upside-down grin. “You sure? Because I could swear, I felt something.”
Heat spread up from my neck and bit my cheeks. No way she could have felt it. Him. He wasn’t that big. “Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She rolled onto all fours and pushed herself up. “It’s hard to explain.”
Her words turned into an invisible kick into my guts. Don’t Panic. She’s just bluffing.
I walked over to where I had put my socks and shoes. “If I remember correctly, you told me yesterday you couldn’t do it.”
“Changed my mind.”
“Well, I didn’t.” I gestured her to hurry up. Together we left the cube and stepped back into the park.
I leaned into her. “Don’t make yourself sound too charming, Autumn. I got no idea what you thought you felt back there, but I assure you it didn’t come from me.”
My harsh words came out a snarl. And just like that, I became the monumental jerk she thought I was.
It’s not like I didn’t flinch at my own words. I did. And if she turned and called me an asshole again, I would have deserved it. But I couldn’t let her have the upper hand. I had to control the experiment… not the other way around.
Silence gnawed on the moment like the sharp incisors of a rodent, and I flashed her a quick glimpse. Instead of fury, I found the petrified face of a porcelain doll, staring into nothingness. Or perhaps not nothingness, because mumbles and whispers flared up like the breeze of an oncoming storm.
