Every Single Thing About You: A “Tuck Yes” Love Story - Book 3 Hopkins, Faleena (good books to read for adults .txt) 📖

Shaun’s stare shifts to me, “Wow” curious if I’ll bite.

Leaning on my elbows I look Joan square in the eyes with a huge smile. “That’s extremely flattering. If I were into women, you’d be my first pick.”

“Really?” she laughs.

“We’ve always gotten along. You bring a ton of light with you.”

Taken aback, Joan flushes, “I don’t think anybody’s every said that to me before.” Her eyes cut to Shaun. “Do you feel that way?”

“I’m down for a romp.”

She smacks him. “That’s not what I meant!”

“I am though.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Josh asks, “Mind if I join you?” surprising everyone. We didn’t hear him walk up. “You have an extra seat.”

My tongue finds a home between two molars as I decide how to handle this. Can’t turn him away. I can’t be rude to a student in front of other students. I motion to the damned empty chair. “Join us.”

He waves to our young server, points to his change of address, sitting down and making our party four. “Were you talking about how beautiful this place is?”

Joan chuckles, “We were talking about if Tempest was into women, I’d be her first pick.”

“Really?” he smiles.

I spin my fork slowly, using it to focus on rather than him.

Shaun throws his hat into the ring again, “I flat out said I’m in.”

Joan rolls her eyes at Shaun before looking to Josh. “I told her I came to yoga because she was teaching it. And I don’t mean her mad skills.”

“Whatever gets you to the gym,” smirks Josh, placing his napkin on his lap.

Shaun scoffs, “Gym. Of course you would say that.”

“Meaning?”

“You’re a gym rat.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah.”

The two men stare at each other, friendliness gone.

I reach over, touching Josh’s shoulder without consciously meaning to, the protective mother-hen instant in me. “Josh isn’t all he appears to be. Don’t judge a person until you know them.”

Shaun looks at me. “Wasn’t saying that.”

I shrug, “Hmmm,” implying he was.

“He’s a jock type.”

Since he is my student and I don’t want to start this retreat with resentments, I argue as gently as I can with Shaun, “Jocks are, um, bigger.”

Josh laughs, “Thanks a lot!” with a toothy grin so disarming it renders our table speechless.

I blink at him.

Shaun drops his gaze.

Joan’s smirk grows.

Three glasses of red wine arrive with a water for our newcomer.

He eyes our choice, inspiring me to explain, “A retreat doesn’t have to be dry.”

“I expected smoothies and kombucha.”

“This is about relaxing and having fun in a gorgeous country.” Holding up my glass I add, “I wouldn’t make people come to Italy without allowing them to enjoy part of what it’s known for.”

Joan waves to our server, “Mi Scusi,” holding up her glass and pointing to his water. “Vino?”

“Si, Si!” He disappears.

Josh and I lock eyes for a hot second, and my gaze travels to a lock of hair hanging over his forehead. I want to touch it. See if it’s damp like I think it is. Needing to say something, anything, I ask, “Did you take a nap?”

And a shower?

“I did.”

Hoping I don’t appear interested in just him — even though I am — I ask the others, “Did you guys?”

“That’s why I was late,” Shaun grunts.

“I couldn’t,” Joan happily sighs, “Too excited about being here. This is my first time in Europe. How about you, Josh?” She raises her glass for a sip, but he stops her.

“Bad luck not to toast.”

The glass lowers, her eyebrows twisting. “Is it?”

“That’s what they say.”

“Yeah,” Shaun agrees, “Bad luck.”

Joan looks for the waiter. “He better hurry up then.”

“Is it just meditation tonight, or yoga, too?” Josh asks me as our server approaches, places a fresh glass of red in front of him and receives a friendly, “Grazie.”

“Prego,” nods the server before he quickly disappears to handle a growing clientele.

Shaun peers at Josh. “Didn’t you read the schedule?”

“Nine-thirty. Restful Practice. Forty-five minutes. Please attend with yoga mat and blanket. Water is always advised.” Josh’s smoldering gaze travels to me. “Wasn’t sure what ‘restful’ entailed.”

I lift my glass, heart pounding against my will. “It’s a combination of both.”

With our glasses suspended, Joan says, “To a restful vacation where we all discover ourselves again! And love what we find!”

Taking a sip, gaze averted to the table cloth in an act of self-preservation, I lick my lips and hum, “Mmm. That’s tasty.”

Either Josh passed his ‘didn’t you read the schedule’ test or Shaun was just hungry, because during a dinner that promises Italian cuisine will live up to its famous reputation, the four of us bounce easily from one topic to the next. We’re visited several times by excited students dropping by to see how we’re liking it, and to confirm they’ll attend the first night’s practice. We skip dessert to avoid being too full, and after our plates are cleared, Joan sees that Meredith has stood up, and winks to me. “See you at nine-thirty!”

Shaun stands, too. “Another nap.”

I nod, “Will you be there?”

“Didn’t come here to sleep.”

Reaching over I clasp his hand. “That’s what I love to hear!”

Josh moves his chair to let them squeeze by, leaving just us. Alone.

We each have a hand on our empty glasses, like they’re support until he drops his and leans back. “Do you want to take a walk with me?”

I blink at him. “No.”

“Okay.” Josh frowns and asks, “Why not?”

I sigh, and let my hand drop, voice gentle yet confused, “I’m not sure if you understand, so let me explain it to you. I left my apartment — my own home I shared with Chris for three years — to move in with my grandparents. I’m the only grandchild to do that. It’s humbling. But I did it for a reason. This is not my only retreat — it’s my first one. How this goes will set the tone for more. It could give me good reviews or bad ones. Word can spread in either direction and it’s crucial