“No, thanks. Let’s get to work. Please take a spot on the mat.”
Ah, crap. No more mat work. Stone swaggered to the dreaded instrument of torture. “Haven’t we done enough breath and pretzel work for the day?” he muttered under his breath.
“Agreed. I thought we’d go over another important element we deal with. Frustration. Failure. How the mind can slip and judge us, affecting our anger and how we express it.”
She looked way too satisfied, so he knew something bad was coming his way. He could do anything for fifteen minutes. Right? He was a cop, for God’s sake, and been put through both physical and mental torture in order to succeed at the academy and his job. “Sounds like a real party,” he offered. “So, tell me the big secret.”
“No secret. Just practice. We’ll begin simply with some balancing asanas.”
“Ass what?”
She moved to the front of the room. Her face smoothed out and reflected a calmness he only wanted to shake up. “Asanas. Postures to help open different parts of the body. Balancing techniques are important to learn and explore on the mat.”
Yeah. This was going to be bad. “You mean standing on one foot will help anger?”
Arilyn smiled like a female Buddha. “Yes. Let’s begin.”
Maybe five minutes needling her had already passed. Then he’d only have ten minutes left.
“Our time will start from now.”
He really disliked her. A lot.
“Taking in a breath, fix your gaze loosely on a spot on the floor. Lift your right leg and place the bottom of your foot against your inner calf. Once you can hold the position, remain breathing, and lift the leg higher. Watch me first.”
In one smooth, continuous motion, she lifted her hands like a ballerina, seemingly rising taller from the earth, her swanlike neck lengthening. Her foot pointed out, rose in the air, and pressed against the inner flesh of her thigh. She looked like a tree rising from the mist, strong in the trunk and graceful in the branches.
“As you gaze at your spot, empty your mind and concentrate on the breath. Let your body lead. You’re solid in the legs, unbreakable as the root of a tree. Bendable and open to the wind with your hands and upper body. Now go ahead and try when you’re ready.”
Stone studied the gorgeous curves of her breasts, her nipples pressing against her tank top, her face open and reflective. He had a quick image of him pinning her to the bed while she welcomed him deep inside, but it freaked him out, so he quickly pushed the image away. Whoa. Who would’ve thought he’d get turned on by a tree pose?
Shaking his head, Stone mimicked her movements, thinking this wasn’t as bad as he thought.
He fell over.
She remained in position, neither swaying nor moving. “If you fall out of a position, recenter yourself and begin again.”
Okay, no problem. He got this now. He took a breath, resettled, and did it again.
Then fell over.
A dark cloud of irritation swept over him. This was so stupid, but simple enough he refused to be beaten. He boxed in the gym, and his trainer told him his balance was spot-on. He’d get this.
Over and over, he tumbled out of position, his crankiness growing by leaps and bounds. When she instructed him to start on the other foot, he found the same problem. The minutes ticked by in growing horror, and Stone finally came to the realization she’d beaten him. He couldn’t stand on one fucking foot for more than a second.
He sucked.
Unfolding from her tree stance, she offered him one of those sympathetic smiles that burned in his gut. “Do you feel angry?” she asked, gaze probing his.
Stone clenched his fist. “For being stuck imitating a damn tree when I could be at work catching real criminals? Nah, I’m good. I’m peachy.”
Her smile widened. “Good. Let’s move on to the next asana.”
His mouth dropped open. “It’s been way over fifteen minutes.”
“No, that was five. And let’s begin.”
The torture was long and deep and mean. By the time she finally called an end to the session, Stone decided to go to the pool hall and start a fight. Yeah, a nasty, testosterone-ridden, stupid fight with fists and blood and that wonderful feeling of release afterward. So much better than this. Completely manly and dudelike.
“How are you feeling now, Officer?”
And then he kinda exploded.
“We’re alone now. My name is Stone. I’d like you to say my real name once instead of jerking me around for fun. Here, I’ll even start the conversation. Did you enjoy our session today, Arilyn? Are you finally satisfied with my conduct in your anger management class, Arilyn? Will you sleep better tonight knowing you won this round, Arilyn?”