Friday Feature, Guest Post & Excerpt: Downward Facing Dreamboat by Bru Baker

“YOU CAN’T say savasana without the shhh! Please enter and leave the studio quietly.”

Kincaid stared at the sign taped to the door. There was a ridiculous cartoon of a llama doing yoga on it, one hoof held up to its lips to signal for quiet.

This was a terrible idea.

He could count everything he knew about yoga on one hand, and that knowledge didn’t include how the hell the shhh sound was in the word savasana.

The entire yoga studio was glass fronted, but the bank of heavy red drapes had been drawn, making it impossible for him to see through. The inside of the door was covered by a beaded curtain, and he could see through them just enough to confirm no one was seated at the tiny desk inside the small foyer.

He’d never been inside the studio, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t intimately acquainted with the layout. For starters, it was hard to hide anything behind floor-to-ceiling windows. When the curtains were open, he could see the length of the place, from the glossy wood floors to the mirrors that fully covered the back wall. The desk up front was big enough to hold a tablet and a plant stand, and next to it sat a water cooler with a cartoon of a dog doing a yoga pose above the words After you sink, drink!

It was a bizarre place. The only parts he couldn’t easily see from the street were a couple of spaces hidden by more of the beaded curtains. He assumed there was an office or something back there. And maybe changing rooms or storage. He didn’t know what you needed for yoga.

Kincaid liked to think of himself as open-minded, but yoga wasn’t really on his radar as a viable form of exercise. The real reason he knew the interior layout of the place was because he peeked in every morning, hoping for a look at the dreamboat of an instructor who was more flexible than any man Kincaid had ever seen.

The drapes were always closed during classes, but when the instructor was alone, they were usually open. And if Kincaid had started going in to work thirty minutes early because he’d discovered that was when the guy warmed up before his 7:30 a.m. class, well, who was the wiser?

Kincaid backed up, taking a few steps away from the door. There was obviously a class in session, and he didn’t want to interrupt. The note from his orthopedist crumpled slightly as he shoved it back into his pocket. He could stop by tomorrow or maybe call from the office. Another day wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Kincaid gritted his teeth as his first step put weight on his ankle, and he tried not to limp as he made his way down the sidewalk. He’d always been able to power through pain when he was running. It worked for blisters and sore muscles, but not so much for stress fractures. To be fair, Kincaid hadn’t realized that’s what the shooting pain in his ankle was. He’d figured it was a mild sprain from coming down on it wrong on one of his long marathon training runs.

He’d forced himself to run despite the pain even when it worsened, but it didn’t get better like his injuries usually did if he pushed through. It got worse. A lot worse. If he’d listened to his body a few weeks ago and eased off on his training, he probably wouldn’t be suffering through a severe stress fracture that threatened to derail his running future permanently.

“Hey, did you need something?”

Kincaid started and spun toward the voice, wincing when it tweaked his ankle. Pain lanced up his leg, the sharp waves making his stomach lurch. The walking boot could only help so much. Mostly it was a physical reminder that Kincaid needed to take it easy. Not that it had been working very well for him. He wasn’t used to having to take things slow, and it was killing him.

Kincaid started again when he realized the man who’d spoken to him was the yoga instructor. His dreamboat. Kincaid tried to smile, but the look of concern on the man’s face told him he hadn’t quite succeeded.

The man took a step forward, his arms out like he was ready to catch Kincaid if he fell. It was enough to tempt Kincaid to swoon on purpose.

“Are you all right?”

Kincaid cleared his throat and hobbled back to the studio’s door. He’d fantasized about meeting his dreamboat plenty of times, but none of them started with him accessorizing his outfit with a clunky walking boot or nearly falling over from embarrassment when the guy greeted him.

He could rally.

“I’m fine. I didn’t mean to interrupt your class. I was just looking at you. I mean, not looking at you. Looking for you. Or someone who could give information about getting registered.”

So much for rallying and making a good second impression. Kincaid wondered if he should cut his losses and hobble away. He could find a new route to work. Maybe take the bus that was closer to his apartment. Sure, it would add an extra hour to his trip, but that would be better than suffering through this.

The guy laughed. “Well, you found me. Or rather, I found you. Class let out about ten minutes ago. I just hadn’t opened the drapes yet. Why don’t you come in, and we can chat? I’m guessing you are looking to start your practice?”

Kincaid tried to evenly distribute his weight as he walked in, but the yoga instructor watched him warily and motioned him over to one of the beaded curtains. Kincaid parted them cautiously and stepped through into a small office.

“It’s that obvious that I’m not a pro?”

The guy’s cheeks dimpled when he smiled. “Sorry, yeah.”

Kincaid laughed as he lowered himself into the chair in front of the desk. “Guilty as charged. I’m here because my doctor suggested it.”

“Let me guess,” the man said, sizing Kincaid up with a thoughtful look. “Pickup basketball league, torn ligament in your ankle, and your doctor gave you the choice between mandatory PT and yoga.”

“Marathon runner, lower tibia stress fracture, ordered into physical therapy, and strongly encouraged to take up yoga as well. You came pretty highly recommended by my ortho.”

The man let out a laugh. “You must have really jacked yourself up for that. Training or race?”

Kincaid wrinkled his nose. “I noticed the pain about three weeks before the race, but I pushed through it. I was able to finish, but my time was shit. My ortho says I’m lucky I didn’t complete the fracture running on it like that. It’s pretty severe.”

The instructor dropped into a low crouch and held his hand out to the ankle Kincaid had been favoring. His fingers hovered over Kincaid’s ankle. “May I?”

Kincaid nodded and hiked his pant leg up at the knee.

“I’m Owen, by the way. I always think it’s best to introduce myself before I start feeling a student up,” he said with a bright grin. “First things first—let’s see what we’re up against.”

Owen’s touch was gentle as he unfastened the boot and put it to the side. He probed at Kincaid’s sock-covered ankle, wincing in sympathy when Kincaid sucked in a pained breath as Owen’s fingers found the right spot.

“Sorry. I’m guessing this is the fracture site?” He looked up, and Kincaid nodded, surprised that Owen had zeroed in on it. Owen smiled. “It’s a high stress point in runners.”

“So you’ve seen stress fractures like this before?”

Owen nodded. “It’s a pretty common injury. I’m sure we can put together a practice that will help you as you heal.”

Kincaid was skeptical of how much yoga could help him, but Dr. Chester assured him that it would be beneficial, especially if he went to someone who had a background in working with injured athletes. Kincaid wasn’t a professional runner, but he wasn’t a weekend warrior, either. He was dedicated to staying fit, and he liked the way running let him tune out. He didn’t want to lose that release because of an injury that healed wrong.

“I won’t actually schedule you until I get the okay from your physical therapist, but this gives me a better idea of your limitations.” Owen made a face. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”

Kincaid fought the urge to cringe when he realized he’d forgotten to introduce himself. This entire encounter had been one embarrassment after another. “Kincaid.”

Owen smiled and tugged Kincaid’s pant leg back down before he stood up. “Well, Kincaid, I’m glad you came in today. Even if I did have to chase you down.”