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

All reconvened for dinner tonight at the scheduled hour, in a restaurant called Ristorante Moonlight that was walking distance from the villa. When I walked in on my own, Tempest smiled with a lifted eyebrow, the seats beside her filled. “You’re late, Mr. Arosio.”

“Needed a shower.”

“I took a shower.”

“Guess mine was longer. Bet it was better, too.”

She tilted her head in a curious way, but dropped it. Not that I would’ve shared more details, but my smirk implied there were some.

And now, during Shivasana, I’m lying under the moonlight with my eyes closed after a practice I didn’t break a sweat at. Satisfied with improvement, I smile, and feel a toe poking my hip. I reach to grab her leg, but miss, and hear a laugh stifled before she smoothly addresses the group, “Thank you for attending practice tonight — I know how tired many of you were after Naples.”

Shaun grumbles, “What if I slept right here?!”

Ignoring him, she continues, “Roll onto your sides, place your alternate palm flat on the ground and slowly press yourself up. Sit with your legs crossed in Lotus, hands in prayer pose.”

She joins us, gracefully lowering herself onto her lavender mat in black yoga pants and yellow sports-bra-halter I can’t keep my eyes off of, long hair bundled on top of her head, several braids threaded in. Toenails black. Fingernails yellow. She has a thing for color. I like it.

“You close your eyes, too, Josh.”

“Kinda hard when you’re looking that beautiful, Tempest.”

She gasps, along with most of them. Some twist to look at me and say, “Awww!”

Shaun mutters under his breath, “I knew it!”

“Okay, okay,” she sighs, “Let’s focus here.” We close our eyes as her blessing floats on a warm breeze, “May your sleep be filled with peace, and may you wake knowing how wonderful you really are. Thank you, everyone. Namaste.”

“Namaste,” repeats the class.

Including me.

There are differing meanings online — I looked it up — so as we gather our things, I ask my neighbor, “Hey Joan, what does Namaste mean?”

“I bow to you. I honor you, because I am you. We are all connected.”

“Huh.”

She waves, “Meredith!” and hurries over to whisper something in the other woman’s ear.

I overhear the response, “I could go for a drink,” not whispered back, and that gets overheard, inspiring several uninvited volunteers.

Returning to collect her things, Joan’s got the first frown I’ve seen on her.

“Didn’t go as planned?” I ask.

“Nope!” Squatting to roll her mat, she shrugs, “Oh well. It’ll still be fun.”

A female student I keep forgetting to learn the name of, calls out, “You wanna join us for a cocktail, Tempest?”

“I’m really tired, but thank you. You go have fun though.” As the woman turns to the others, Tempest glances to me, biting her smile, mischievous eyelashes dropping with her as she kneels to roll her mat, in no hurry, intending to be last to leave.

Is she thinking what I’ve been thinking, that we have little time left here. Tonight is the night.

Chapter 26

I throw my mat under one arm, blanket gripped in my fist as trimmed grass bends under bare feet. “I saw that look.”

Tempest glances to me, smile sneaky. “Don’t know what look you’re referring to.”

“Are you really tired?”

“Very.”

Nodding once to myself, I sigh, “Ah. Oh well. Okay,” and head off on a distant, “Have a good sleep.”

At her silence, I glance back, suspicions realized. Not aware I checked on her, Tempest is focused on cleaning up, but her movements are weighted by disappointment. It’s unmistakable.

Walking to the villa, some from our group automatically join me as they debate what to do with the free time we have tomorrow after practice and breakfast.

I glance to the small café, and branch off. “See you guys in the morning.”

Distracted by the freedom of choice to explore as they wish — which some are uncomfortable with, from what I can hear — my exit is hardly noticed as they disappear through the room Tempest dragged me into when she wanted answers that first day. It’s the quickest way outside to tables they’ll no doubt inhabit until no one can keep their eyes open any longer.

Walking up to Antoni, the man who seems to work the café both day and night, I point my chin at the liquor bottles. “Is that all you’ve got, Antoni?”

He reaches in his mini-fridge and pulls out a bottle of bright yellow. “Limoncello!”

I ask, “What is that again?” not wanting to sound like I don’t know, even if I don’t.

“We make it here! Try it!”

“Here?” I point to the tile floor.

“In Sorrento!”

“Ah, nice. Two glasses. Thanks.”

He pours, “Main ingredient is lemon!”

“I like lemon. Sounds good.”

“You cannot come to Sorrento and not try Limoncello!”

The guy is so enthusiastic you couldn’t help but smile even if your world was caving in. Thankfully mine isn’t. Not anymore.

From behind me I hear a throat cleared, and twist my torso to find Tempest in the doorframe, foyer behind her quiet due to the hour and her the last one in.

I grin, “Oh hi,” motioning to what he’s making me. “A couple of people wanted to try something new.”

She doesn’t know the couple of people are us.

Tempest frowns, mat hanging lower. “You’re joining the others outside?”

“You had to go to bed early.”

It’s true. You said that. But I plan to be there with you.

Tempest nods, eyes a little sad. “Right. Goodnight then.”

“Hope you sleep well.”

In my arms.

She gives me a quiet, “You too, Josh,” and heads for the stairs.

As I pull out my wallet to pay, I listen for her steps and chuckle at how despondent they sound. I’m a generous tipper by nature because what goes around comes around, but Antonio gets the benefit of my amusement and then some.

Carrying the glasses out, I glance up to the author who created this scenic respite, nodding to him with a quiet, “Thanks for this,” as I take the elevator, just in case.

When it stops on her floor, I