Every Single Thing About You: A “Tuck Yes” Love Story - Book 3 by Hopkins, Faleena (best fiction novels of all time .TXT) 📕

stay warm. Let gravity take over. Relax your ankles, your feet. That’s right. Let your arms go lax at your sides. Check in with your body. Notice the change in it since you arrived. Feel where you’re tingling. Where you’ve loosened up. If anything feels sore or tight, send light to it now.” She pauses. “Close your eyes. For the next three minutes, just be.”

I do as she says, but at the sound of her footsteps leaving the stage, I peek to see her raising the volume on a New Age song, hair long over one shoulder. She straightens, turns, and locks eyes with me.

I shut my eyes.

For the next three minutes I don’t check in with my body — I check in with my life, because today’s irony is irritating me more with each passing second.

The best thing I got out of college was a friendship with Nax Fisher and Bennett Powers so strong we’re like brothers. Back then we did everything together. That changed when we graduated, all three of us pairing off with wives none of us have anymore.

Leah and I got pregnant with our son, Will, who’s now eleven. Shortly before he was born, we moved to Tribeca, arguably the hippest neighborhood in Lower Manhattan. We were happier than anyone has a right to be.

Bennett moved into a place that fits his stoic style, just a few blocks from us, with Joy. They had Elliot, now ten. But he and Joy were too similar — cold from childhoods that lacked love. It was a combination that proved short-lived for their marriage. Elliot then lived with Joy for most of his life, so it’s only in the past year he’s had the chance to get to know my boy, Will.

And Nax…we lost him to California where he and his now ex, Liz, returned shortly after graduation, to pursue a showbiz life as movie producers. Their son, Joe, age ten like Elliot, also didn’t get to know my son until just a few months ago. Nax hadn’t returned to New York for eight years, until Bennett called and told him I needed help.

When my wife died I dug myself into a hole I’ve just begun to crawl out of. Nax coming here was an enormous help. Bennett falling in love with Christina Tuck, also helped in many ways because I’m helping her with a charity, and that sparked my interest in my own, again.

Someone once said that helping others helps you, and I’d forgotten that until it punched me in the soul and got me out of a depression I thought I’d never escape.

Having the three of us guys back together, and watching our sons become friends like we are, has been healing for all of us, though I hadn’t thought about it until now as I lie on a mat in forced silence, irritated by the ironic nature of this past hour.

I wasn’t supposed to be here.

Nax and Bennett went to Central Park today with their Tuck fiancés, and all three of our sons. Bennett’s dogs, too. I was meant to go, but at the last second changed my mind because I thought Tempest would be there.

So I bought a yoga mat.

Feeling pretty good.

And came here.

Ah, irony.

“When you’re ready, gently roll onto your side and pause for a moment before laying your palm flat onto the ground and pushing yourselves up to sitting.”

I do as I’m told, glancing around at a class crossing their legs, hands in prayer pose. I follow their lead, praying to get out of here.

“As you go back into the world…” Tempest pauses as we lock eyes. In the same prayer pose, she closes hers, lips tight for a second before parting to gently say, “…take this peace you feel with you. Be centered in your decisions. Kind in your deeds. Patient in response. Just one person moving through the world, awake, can lift those sleeping around them. Thank you for letting me guide you to your center and to your truth. Peace be with you. Namaste.”

The class repeats, “Namaste,” minus one voice.

Mine.

I gather my things and walk out without speaking to anyone or even looking at Tempest.

Is she going to stop me?

Try to talk?

I wouldn’t advise it.

Halfway down the block I look behind me, but she’s not there.

Snatching a refilled Metro card from my pocket, I head for the subway, but think twice and decide to walk home instead, with Tempest Tuck the only thing on my mind.

Chapter 3

With the key I gave him Nax unlocks my front door, and lets the boys in first, Will and Joe running for Will’s bedroom to get back to their obsession — beating each other at video games.

“Hey!” I call out to my son. “Don’t you have a hello for your old man?”

Grinning, Will runs over, “You’re not old, Dad,” hugging me and receiving a kiss on his head.

“Feel like one today,” I smirk, “Go ahead, go on.” As he starts to dash off, I ask, “You have lunch?”

“Yeah!”

He disappears, and I turn to Nax digging through my fridge. This is his second home now that his house in California is up for sale. Zia Tuck’s loft in Hudson Square — the next neighborhood over — is his first home now. Except whenever Joe’s not visiting as he splits time between his parents now. “Hey Josh, want a beer?” he asks.

Glancing to the clock I’m surprised. “Five thirty? Wow, time flew. Sure, grab me one.”

He pops the caps and walks mine over. We hit them together, a wordless cheers, and take a sip as he sits at my dining table and I stand with my back to the window, skyscrapers lit up behind me.

“It was beautiful at the park today. You should’ve come.”

I snort, “Yeah, I should’ve.”

“Were you bored?”

“No.”

He smiles in his easy going way. “Everyone was out. People playing baseball. Lounging on blankets. The boys climbed a few trees. Even Elliot. I don’t know what