Chapter 5: Chapter 4: Hippie Chics Like Yoga

Song for this Chapter: Something, originally performed by the Beatles. Although nothing can compare to the original, I like this cover imagined as Soundcrush--it's more folk but also, kickier than the great classic.

Here's a shot of the yoga action going on in this chapter:

Ashlynn

I guess I rattled the mighty Lion.

He's avoiding me.

We're at the rooftop restaurant after the rehearsal dinner. The LA skyline is gorgeous and everyone is having a great time, except for him. And me.

He's sitting at the bar, nursing another tequila and I'm sitting at one of the tables with Mac and Tam, listening to baby talk. Leed and I are doing that high school thing, where we catch one another looking and look away.

I feel so silly, but I can't help it. He looks amazing, all tight-suit and open-collared, leaning backwards against the bar, his elbows bracing him, his head lifted as he surveys the skyline. He look so...regal.

And somber. I honestly can never decide if he looks sexier sullen or smirking. But since he's sexy as all get-out no matter what expression he wears, I'd much rather see him smiling.

I hate the idea that I might be the reason for his dissatisfied mood. That man has no idea how much I want to give into him—to give him whatever he wants.

It's just that I'm afraid he only knows how to take. I'm afraid he'd run through me. I'm only just learning how to keep my own tank full again.

"Amiright, Ash?" Mac smacks me lightly in the arm.

"Uhhhh, sorry, what?" I ask.

"That Leed should be in the delivery room. It's his kid. It will be fine. He's good under pressure. He'll roll with it and he won't make a drama. Right, Ash?"

I blush. Why is Mac asking me, like I'm the Leed expert in the room?

I give Tam a sympathetic smile. "I think you, Ben and Leed should probably just talk about it—and very soon, because it's going to happen any day now. I know Leed would like to be there, but it's an unusual situation. I'm sure what he wants most is to start off in a good place with you and Ben as parents, you know?"

Tam gets a weird expression. She almost looks...guilty. I'm not sure why, but I guess there is some measure of guilt about having one man's baby and marrying another at the same time.

I shoot Leed another look. This time, he raises his glass and gives me a nod, before looking away and taking another heavy swallow. Maybe he's not put off by the blunt rules of engagement I gave him earlier. Maybe he's upset for an entirely different reason. This can't be easy on him...watching Tam marry another man. The uncertainty of how they will all negotiate being parents.

Of course, Ashlynn. Don't be so narcissistic. This is not about you. Leed is struggling, and he has every right to be.

I rise to go to him. He watches me walking toward him, but Kat intercepts me, locking arms with me, drawing her head close to mine. "Come on, this dinner is played out. Let's go back to the suite and kick Trace and Adam's ass at Guitar Hero."

I laugh. That game is so played out, but it's Kat recent obsession—to learn how to best Trace at virtual music-making. They've been playing it constantly in the two weeks since I've been back in California, and drawing me into it, when they are hanging out at our apartment. Apparently she brought the console and guitars with.

"You think there's a chance in hell at besting two professionals?"

Kat smiles her wickedest grin, her warm eyes shining and her perfect matte lips smirking. "Hell yes. They are wasted. I may have helped that along...Come on..." she bounces on her toes.

"You don't consider that cheating?" I tease her.

She arches an eyebrow. "Absolutely not. It's like Daddy having an low handicap in golf, because he's so good."

"So you've handicapped them by getting them drunk."

"Yep."

"Hmmmmmm..." I can't say I don't see the logic there. Could actually be a fair playing field...

Adam whistles and makes a circle-in-the-air. That's a standard Soundcrush signal backstage after a concert that a bandmember is about to "hotel it" if any other key personnel wants to share the ride. I guess in this case, the "ride" is the elevator.

Mac rises at once, giving Tam a rushed hug and striding eagerly towards Adam. I smile to see her face when she joins his side. She loves Tam and loves the LA scene, but she's different now. There's no where she would rather be than with Adam. Kat drags me along towards the group. When we reach them, Trace smiles at me. "Leed coming?" he asks casually.

I can feel my color rising. Why does everyone think I have the answers, when it comes to Leed Lawson?

I shrug.

Trace cocks his head at me, almost like he pities me. I guess he still does—that's been his standard disposition toward me in the last few years. He winks at me and whistles again. "Let's go, Big Dog!" he raises his voice to Leed. "Suite party. Prettiest fangirls I have ever laid eyes on..." he jokes, gesturing to Kat and Mac and me. Kat and Mac strike a pose—Kat wrapping around Trace from behind and blowing Leed a kiss while Mac snuggles against Adam and gives her brother a curt impatient "come-on" wave.

Leed surveys us like the king he is. Placid. Immovable in his stance.

"Give the man some encouragement, Sista!" Kat whispers in my ear. I shrug at him, but I smile. He smiles back a little bleakly and switches his gaze to Trace. He lifts his glass. "In a minute. Text me your room number."

We have a great time playing Guitar Hero. Kat can't best Trace, but she does manage to beat Adam—only because he had to fend off a lap dance from Mac while he played. I beat Kat and Mac, but I don't come anywhere near my top score, so I'm well out of Trace and Adam range. I have played better at the apartment I share with Kat. I guess I am distracted.

Leed never shows.

I leave TrayKat and Madam to their suite party before midnight. Sleep is important to me. If I skimp consistently, I risk a migraine. Plus, I have to be up early to get my yoga in, before we start getting styled for the wedding.

The next morning, I've just finished brushing my teeth and securing my ponytail at the same time when I hear a knock on my door.

Leed is standing at my door with a yoga mat under his arm, wearing a cocky grin, his hair in a half man-bun, loose yoga pants and a tight white t-shirt that says Spiritual AF.

I can't help, I let loose with laughter. "Nice shirt."

"You like it?" He whips it off. "Yours," he purrs, handing it to me.

"Don't mind if I do." I'm no fool. That shirt will smell like him for days. Longer, if I don't wash it. Plus, you know.

The obvious.

Leed bare-chested.

I don't even realize I'm gawking until he makes a clucking noise and lifts my chin. "Eyes up here, Sunshine. I am more than just tats and abs, you know..." his eyes are full of mirth.

"Oh twenty five million of your female Instagram followers might disagree." He gives them enough opportunity to view his body. I've never seen a post of him wearing a shirt.

He crosses his arms and leans against the door. "Well how about a little equal opportunity? You can admire my T&A...if I can admire yours?"

I snort. "Like you weren't last night."

He nods with a heavy sigh. "You are right there, Hotness. That dress made me almost rip that oxygen tank from Tam's Great Aunt Mazie, and claim a whiff, because I could hardly breathe."

I laugh. "Your come-ons are loaded with surprisingly unsexy imagery, Leed."

He shakes his head at me. "That wasn't a come-on, that was a fucking fact. Your cackle is also kind of unsexy. More cute, than sexy."

I laugh again. "I do not cackle." I really don't.

"Mmmmmm, you keep telling yourself that, Sunshine." He gestures to my yoga outfit. "Gonna practice this morning?"

"Of course." It's not really an option for me, if I want to stay healthy.

"Can I join you?"

"Of course."

Leed leans in the open door as I toss his shirt on the bed and grab my mat. He doesn't move from the doorway, forcing me to edge past all his tats and muscles and his intoxicating smell. I'm not the only one inhaling scent. As I glide past I hear his breath intake sharply.

I shake my head as I wander down the hall, him trailing me. I'm trying to shake his scent from my soul.

It doesn't matter that he's here. It doesn't mean he wants what you want. He's not the kind of guy that takes no for an answer, is all.

When we get in the elevator, I move to select the first floor, where the studio is, but he stops me, grabbing my hand and guiding my fingers to press the rooftop floor.

"I think it's  probably locked."

He holds out a keycard. "Not when you make friends with the bartender."

I make a sound of disgust. "TMI."

He looks confused for a second, and then slightly irritated. "I didn't fuck her, Ashlynn. I tipped her well, and when she asked for a selfie, I asked for her keycard to the rooftop. For this. So we could have a sunrise practice."

I put a hand to my face, groaning. "Wow. I'm such a bitch sometimes. I'm sorry. Really. I just thought, when you didn't come to the suite party last night..."

"There was a reason I didn't come, but it wasn't that," he says evenly.

"What happened?"

He looks all around my face, like he's memorizing me, and then he looks me in the eye. "Can we talk about it after yoga?"

"Of course." The way he says can we talk...so intimately, so gently...it floods my insides with warmth.

He leads the way onto through the roof bar, onto the terrace, taking both our mats and placing them east, to face the sun that's about to break. I wait, not sure if he's planning to call the poses or if I should. He taps his phone and places it on the ground between our mats. "You tried this app before?"

I shake my head. "It's a good one," he tells me.

We follow the guided practice and beginning our sun salutations with the rising dawn. It feels wonderful on this rooftop in the balmy Southern California November. Like waking to a whole new life. After about thirty minutes of flow, we end in child's pose, and I rest, awash in the endorphins flooding my brain. Leed shuts off the app and crouches beside me, pushing the small of my back slightly to increase the stretch.

"Hmmmmmm," I purr. He chuckles.

"You gonna sleep there or you gonna show off your moves?"

I rise up into cow pose with a sigh and we both climb to our feet. We sort of circle around each other, as he wipes sweat away and I drink water.

"That's was just the warm up, baby. I want to see you strain and sweat," he jokes.

"I'm still learning advanced poses," I tell him shyly.

"Well, show me what you are working on."

I fold forward, walk my hands between my feet and slowly squat until my arms are bearing weight. I lift my legs slowly, straightening them in front of me and then leaning back until my legs pitch upwards.

"Firefly pose. Very nice," Leed says, and his appreciation is genuine. As I return to  hands and knees, he gracefully crouches, tips forward until his knees rest on the backs of his arm and his legs are elevated.

"Niiiiiiceeee."

"My crow pose, or my ass?" he asks casually. He raises his legs with excruciating control until he's extended into a full handstand. After holding the pose for what seems like a long time, he twists his arm and kicks sideways out of the position, cartwheel style, coming face to face with me.

"Well?" he grins.

"Your yoga skills are very nice." I tell him.

"My ass, too..." he wheedles.

I try to suppress a smile and fail utterly. "Fine. I admit it. Your ass too."

"You're everything is nice, Sunshine. Your turn for another extreme pose."

I chew on my lip. "I'm still working on a backbend..."

"Does your instructor help?"

I nod, and he holds out his hands. "May I?"

I nod again, feeling a little like a rag doll.

He moves close. Facing me, planting his feet wider apart than mine.  He waits passively as I take a few deeps breaths and tug on my long, fitted top to make sure it won't ride up my stomach. When I cross my arms over my chest, he takes hold of my hips. The air gets thick and for a second we are stuck in it, unable to move.

Leed clears his throat. "Ready?"

I answer by pitching slowly backward. I stretch at first, bending slightly and rolling back up several times.

"I've got you," Leed says. "Go for it."

On the fourth back bend, I dive my hands beyond my head, extending fully. As if he'd done it a hundred times, Leed slowly slides one hand around to my lower back, leaning with me, reaching for my right hand, guiding it to my ankle, repeating with my left. He's barely holding my back, but it's enough assurance as he counts. "Hold for five, okay? One...two...three..." he counts very slowly, but I manage to hold the pose. When he squeezes my hips and and I spring back up, he doesn't move away.

"Beautiful," he murmurs. Then he looks skyward and breathes deep. The next thing I know his hands have disappeared from my body and he's twisting away from me, falling gracefully forward into the One Handed Tree pose—a one-handed handstand with all his other limbs spread.

I clap for that one. It's extremely difficult. "You win," I tell him.

He folds down gracefully. "You feel good?"

"I feel great."

He brushes a loose strand of overgrown bangs from my face "Then you win, Sunshine."

I nod, suddenly shy. I don't know why I feel this way with him. I've known him for years. I like him. He's never been anything but friendly and easy with me. This close, however, he makes me  nervous.

"So that thing I wanted to tell you," Leed says, and he takes my hand and guides me over to a table. We sit on top of it, soaking in the sunlight. He sits cross-legged.

He plays with hem of his yoga pants. His voice is very low and soft. "I wanted to tell you, I heard you, yesterday.I get where you are coming from. And I wanted to tell you...I'm not there, right now."

I'm silent as his words sink in, and something else inside sinks a little, too. "Okay. That's fair. That's okay."

"No, it's not. Nothing about it is fair, really," he sighs as he turns to me, and he swings my legs up, folding them for me so that we are facing each other. I look at my hands in my lap.

"Look at me, Ash. Please."

It's hard to lift my gaze; his is so intense. "I'm not there right now, but it has nothing to do with you—or the feels. It's just...with the kid practically here...I think I need to be all about him right now, you know? And I think maybe, you need to do you, out of rehab, for a little while."

I smile. He's right. He's so right .

He's telling me plainly he doesn't have space in his life for whatever might have been starting to happen between us. I take a breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. I can't cry. I have no right. I did this. I laid out my boundaries; he can't abide them. This is a good thing—at least he's being kind and honest.

"Ash...say something. Please."

"You're very wise, Leed. And they say Trace is the brains behind your outfit," I say brightly,

He snorts and looks directly into the rising sun, like it's less painful than looking me in the face. Then he closes his eyes. "So can we be friends for now? No benefits."

"What, I don't even get backstage passes?" I joke. "Or one of those SCIC rubber bracelets?"

He bops a light fist on my knee. "I'll give you all the SCIC perks you want. If you'll give me a raincheck on that magic."

I nod, but words I can't help but say come rushing out in a whisper. "Yeah, sure, but...rainchecks have expiration dates, you know," I whisper.

"I know, Sunshine. I know."

——————————————————————

"He said what?" Mac hisses. Not waiting for an answer, she replies. "He's a fucking moron!" Then, almost like she has multiple personality syndrome, her angry pout spreads into a delightful smile as she swivels me toward the photographer who is approaching to take a candid reception photo of us. He keeps shooting us. I guess because Mac is a celebrity and of course Tamara will want to include a perfect shot of her in the wedding book.

I hope the extended photo-op will derail Mac's rant. The wedding was beautiful, the reception is kickin', Tam didn't go into labor mid-ceremony, and I would feel relaxed for the first time all day, except for Mac grilling me about the sunrise yoga interlude I had with Leed. Which she learned about, thanks to Adam.

Damn Adam and his incessant need for junk food. We ran into him hitting the vending machine for pop tarts because room service was taking too long.

The photographer wanders away, and Mac's scowl returns. "He said, he's not there? What does that even mean? Of course he's not there. He can't get there unless he gets off his big lanky moronic ass and moves there. Has he not learned anything from me this year?"

"Who's moving where?" Adam flops into the seat beside us, offering us both a glass of what I'm sure can only be sparkling white grape juice. I nod my thanks.

"Leed is moving to my shit-list," Mac says to Adam sweetly, pecking his cheek in thanks for the juice.

"Hmmmm," Adam says. "I'm still on his for wanting you to stay home with your feet up this weekend. I love how we play musical chairs."

Mac sips her juice thoughtfully. "Would that be musical toilets?"

Adam chokes on his drink and laughs at her. "You right, Shorty."

"That's gross," I say.

"What's gross?" Kat joins us.

She looks so beautiful in her burnt orange sheath dress. The photographer has been all over her, too. My little sister, the Instagram Star. I love that Trace is learning to be okay with her rising celebrity and their official relationship in the limelight.

"Musical toilets," Adam supplies.

"Ewwww. Gross. What?" Kat looks at me like I'm a translator.

"You don't want to know."

"Ooooooh, incoming hottie," Kat says between gritted teeth. "I hope Trace doesn't go ballistic."

"He's obviously coming over here for me," Mac scoffs.

"Did you really just plump your boobs? What the hell?" Adam stares at his wife in disbelief.

"You're being really insensitive, Adam. I'm feeling fat and unattractive. No one has hit on me once all day."

He jerks her hand up, thrusting her sparkly rings in front of her face. "Because you are married. And pregnant. You are fucking incredible sometimes, you know that, MacKenna?"

Seeing that she's maybe gone a shade too far in her teasing, she relents, putting her hands together like in prayer. "I'm sorry, Preacher. I was just playin'. I do feel frumpy, though. I think I hate being pregnant in LA."

"I am so sorry to hear that, Shorty. We can go home to Nashville tonight, if you want," he grins, just as the dark-haired, light-eyed hottie stops in front of our table. "Hey man, don't I know you from somewhere?" Adam asks.

"Gabe Reynolds. I went to Belmont with your sister. Been to a few great barn parties out at your parents' place," the guy says. "I just came over to say hello and ask after Brett." Adam shakes hands, gives Gabe the run down on his sister, married, two kids, successful blogger. When Gabe lingers just a little longer than necessary, Adam rubs his jaw. "Let me make this easy on you...you probably recognize my beautiful wife, MacKenna," Adam supplies putting a hand behind MacKenna's back. He gestures to Kat. "This is Katheryn, my best friend's girl. And her sister Ashlynn. You'll have to ask her about her dance card...it might be claimed by a Lion."

"It is not, because the Lion is a moron," Mac says abruptly.

Kat's head snaps around. "What did he do?" She looks at me. "Is he why you were almost crying this morning before makeup?"

"I was not crying," I protest. "My eyes were watering from all the hairspray fumes in the air."

"What did he do?" Kat demands again.

"She'll tell you later. Right now she has to dance with the hottie," Mac says in exasperation.

"Mac!" I screech as I nearly fall on my ass because she pushes my out of my chair with her foot. Gabe catches my elbow. "Thanks," I mutter.

"Hey, actually I did come over to speak to you as well. I think you came into my yoga studio last week. Out in Calabasas? Weren't you in my intermediate class?"

"Yes! I thought you looked familiar!" I have trouble sometimes, placing people.

He just stands there awkwardly. "I'm Ashlynn," I shake hands with him.

"Yep, she's Ashlynn. You're Gabe. You both dig yoga. Go dance!" Mac yells.

"Oooooo-kay?" he blinks at Mac, then at me. "Uhhh, I mean...would you like to dance?" he asks.

"She would!" Kat says emphatically, pushing me from behind.

"What the hell!" I swat at Kat. "Stop pushing me."

Kat stops pushing me, only because she has to circle back and drag Gabe forward. Suddenly, I'm dancing with this stranger.

"God, sorry." I tell him. "Rock stars and entourage. All of them crazy."

He laughs. "But you're not?"

"Entourage? Sort of. Crazy? A little less than the rest. Or so I like to think," I tell him with a smile.

We chat easily, but before the end of the song, there's a disruption on the stage. A lion-sized disruption.

Leed is taking the microphone and interrupting the string quartet, "Hello again, friends of family of the happy couple. Of course, Soundcrush has made already made our tribute to our dear friends..."

What is he doing? Like he just said, Soundcrush already played, an acoustic set, an hour ago. They covered a bunch of love songs, since none of their songs scream wedding, but Leed made a great tribute to Ben and Tam, telling funny stories about them both, and ending with his heartfelt congratulations. No mention of the fact that Tam is about to pop out his baby. He gave all the shine to the happy couple.

"But you know...there was this song, I really wanted to sing, and I talked myself out of it, and well...I think I was too hasty," Leed is strapping on an acoustic. "Adam, I think all I need is a little fingerwork and some backing vocals, man. It's a song we used to cover back in the college days..."

Adam rises and joins him. They consult with the quartet and erupt in grins and nods.

Leed returns to the mic. "Awesome. James the very talented violinist is going to join in. So this song...it's an ode to a beautiful woman. It's a question. It's a plea. And it's personal." He looks directly at me. "You know who you are, the girl with the sunshine," he murmurs, before turning his attention to the guitar.

A sweet, optimistic version of "Something" by the Beatles follows.

Something in the way she moves

Attracts me like no other lover

Something in the way she woos me.

I don't want to leave her now.

You know I believe and how.

I shake my head at the Lion, but I can't stop the smile. I put my hand to my to mouth. I try to turn away from watching him as he pierces me with his song, but I can't. My whole body is revolting against my will. I'm barely able to stop myself from wandering forward, like an enraptured fangirl finding her way to the front of the concert pit.

When he hits the chorus, my reactions cools. I truly understand what he's trying to tell me with his song.

You're asking me will my love grow?

Well I don't know, I don't know.

You stick around now, it may show.

I don't know, I don't know.

It's a question, it's a plea, he said.

It is. It is also not fair, what he's doing to me.

Why did I ever think the Lion would play fair?

"Excuse me," I murmur to the hottie, I mean...shit, I don't remember his name. I turn from him, and weave out of the ballroom. When I hear Leed's hasty thank you's cut short by a dropped microphone, I start running. I make it to the elevator, frantically pushing the button, praying it will close in time.

It does. Leed's feline glare is replaced by my own distraught expression as the mirrored doors shut him out.

The elevator stops on too many floors with mezzanines, restaurants and bars. I can't even force myself to smile at the people that move inside the car. I get out on my floor, automatically hanging a right, dashing to my room.

"Ashlynn!" Leed growls behind me, out of breath from climbing the stairs. I keep going, but I can't run in these fucking heels. I contemplate taking them off, but it seems like it would take more time.

I make it to my door, fumbling with my key card, but Leed slides his arm across the door. "Ashlynn."

"What do you want, Leed?" I am trying to stay calm, but he's pushing every button inside me this weekend. From his stupid if-anyone-is-fucking-Ashlynn-Ballard-this-weekend-it's-me speech, to the hot yoga, then his even more confusing I'm-not-there speech, and now this? Serenading me with one of the most beautiful, most conflicted love songs of all time?

"What do you want from me? Huh? I'm a person! With feelings! You can't just...treat people like this!!! Pushing and pulling!!" I yell at him, shoving him a little to make my point.

"I know, I know," he whisper, pulling me to his chest, to make his. "I fucking know, Ash. I'm so sorry. The last thing I want is to unbalance you. Just...just...stick around, okay? Please." He takes my head in his hands, and raises my face, pressing our foreheads together. "I'm so sorry I fucking suck at all this. I want to do it all better. Like I've never done before. I want to do it right. I just need a little time to get my shit together. If you'll just...stick around. Just a little while, okay? That's all I'm asking."

I feel so...confused. How can I feel so happy and so frustrated with him at the same time? I push my fingers up through his hair and say the only thing I can think right now. "Where would I go, that you wouldn't hunt me down?"

"Nowhere," he promises, kissing my forehead-once, twice, and then one more kiss to the top of head. "Goodnight, Sunshine."

Then he lopes away.

Well, Leed is all over the place. And so is Ashlynn. How long do you think it will take for them to get on the same page?  What about Leed's song choice? Did it help his case, or just make things worse? Will she stick around or move forward or a little of both? Thoughts?

Please vote/list/comment/follow if you are enjoying the story!