If I was going to make Aspen Valley home, the very first thing I needed to do was make this giant empty house feel like a home.
I’d spent the night before walking from room to room, trying in vain to find at least one space that felt comfortable. The problem was, although the house was very beautifully decorated and there had clearly been a great deal of thought put into how to style it to appeal to a demographic with more money than time to decorate it themselves, there was absolutely no part of the house that felt good to me.
At some point, just before midnight, I gave up in my search for comfort. I grabbed a beer from the generously stocked fridge, the only thing I liked so far, and flopped on the very hard—but modern—white leather couch in front of the massive television, where I surfed the channels until I finally finished the beer and went to bed.
Now, in the light of day, I’d been so sure the house would have a different feel.
I was wrong.
I made myself another coffee from the fancy, shiny machine on the counter I’d surprised myself by figuring out after only one mess-up. The coffee it produced was delicious, and I was beginning to think the best things about this rental house were the beverages. I grabbed my laptop and phone, and pulled up a tall black stool to the long white granite eating bar before dialing Trent’s phone number.
“Good morning.” He answered my call. “Are you all settled now?”
“If you could call it that.” I glanced around the sparse space. “I think I need to have a housewarming party or something. This place is too…”
“Sterile?”
“How did you know?”
Trent laughed. “The same designer who took care of that house did Brittany’s place. Before I moved in,” he added quickly. “As you know, my beautiful wife likes things very…”
“Sterile?”
“Your word, not mine.”
“Ha! I’m pretty sure you said it first.”
“You can’t prove it.” My friend chuckled. “But I understand exactly what you mean.” He shifted gears and grew more serious. “It’s not really your style.”
An understatement if I ever heard one. I grew up modestly, in a small three-bedroom house that up until recently still had the original brown shag carpeting and yellowing wallpaper from my youth. I was still drawn to a cozy kitchen with warm wooden cupboards, plants hanging from the ceilings, and overstuffed couches with too many people piled on to watch a movie. A place to relax and unwind. A place that felt like home.
“Not even close,” I said wistfully.
I wasn’t convinced I needed to go all the way back to the eighties with my decor choices. But at the very least, I was sure we could add some color and definitely some comfort.
“I’m almost certain Abby will have the number of a designer who can help you out on short notice. I’ll send her a quick text,” Trent said before I could respond. “No doubt she’ll have someone there within the hour.”
I didn’t know Abby very well yet. In fact, I really didn’t know any of Trent’s group of friends all that well yet. Besides his wedding to Brittany, there’d been two other occasions we’d all been together. One, when I arranged a private screening of my latest movie as a favor to my new friends at Dylan Scott’s Rock Creek Ranch. That night had been full of drama I hadn’t been fully privy to at the time, but it ended in all of the women ending their girls’ trip early and returning to town, upset with Sandy, one of their own who’d apparently hooked up with Dylan while they were at the ranch. Again, I was blurry on the details, but it all must have ended well because a few months later, at another private screening for the same movie—I had to call in some serious favors—Dylan made a grand gesture, declared his love for Sandy, and, as far as I knew, they were now a very happy couple.
Maybe I should have paid closer attention to the ins and outs of what was becoming my new circle of friends, but truthfully, I only had eyes for one woman. Darla Diamond. Everything about her sparkled, even her name. She was the complete opposite of every woman I’d ever dated. In fact, she wasn’t quite like anyone I’d ever met.
In a world full of people who were concerned with fitting in, looking a certain way, or dressing in a specific type of clothing, Darla just didn’t care. She always looked stunning, but in an effortless way that was in direct contrast to every other woman in Aspen Valley. She looked soft and feminine while, at the same time, she dazzled. If we were in the same room together, I was inevitably drawn to her.
A little gathering at the house would be a good chance for me to get to know all of my new friends a little better, especially Darla. The one person I was interested in getting to know better. A lot better.
“Hello?” Trent’s voice brought me back to the conversation. “Are you still there?”
I nodded. “Yup. I was thinking about something.”
“I hope you were thinking about what I just said. Seven o’clock work for you?”
“Sorry.” I admitted my distraction. “What’s happening at seven?” I shook my head and lifted the mug of coffee to my mouth.
“Your housewarming party.”
“Walk your heels out to the edge of your mat.”
The melodic voice floated through the room. I inhaled deeply, doing as instructed.
“Drop your arms slowly to your sides and exhale slowly out your mouth as you let yourself fall into Shavasana.”
My body settled into the pose easily, and my mind began to drift into the deep relaxation. My favorite part of any yoga practice.
“I hate this part.” Brittany’s voice, no more than a whispered hiss, not even directed at me, but to Sandy on her mat behind me, pierced through my Zen state. “I can’t relax.”
“Maybe if you stopped talking,” Abby said in a whisper, only barely concealing her laughter.
I squeezed my eyelids tighter, trying desperately to hold on to the moment.
The instructor, mercifully unaware of my friend’s distraction, continued her rhythmic guidance at the front of the room. “Lengthen through your neck and be with your breath.”
That was exactly what I was trying to do. Be with my breath. Although, inevitably, whenever the girls joined me for a yoga session, that didn’t happen.
“Make sure to give gratitude,” the sweet, calm voice continued. “Set your intention for the day and the week ahead.”
Oh, I had an intention all right, and it was going to be to tell my friends to shut up.
“And when you’re ready, bring your hands to your heart’s center. Namaste.”
The word was barely out of the instructor’s mouth before, next to me, Brittany sat straight up on her mat and declared, “Let’s get coffee.”
I groaned, took one last breath, exhaled slowly from my mouth, and opened my eyes. “It wouldn’t kill you to try to relax once in a while, you know?”
Britt’s signature red lips—even in a workout—curled up into a sassy smile. “I’ll have you know I did quite a bit of relaxing last night.”
“Orgasms don’t count as relaxing.” Jessie leaned over.
“I don’t know how you and Shane are doing things,” Britt said. “But an orgasm totally counts.”
Jessie laughed as she stood to roll up her mat. “I assure you, we’re doing it just fine.”
“Oh, we know.”
All eyes turned to Sandy, who usually stayed fairly quiet when the conversation shifted to sex. At least until recently.
“What about you?” Abby asked her. “Where do you stand on the matter?”
Sandy’s face turned a deep shade of red that couldn’t be attributed to the gentle yoga we’d just finished. “All I’m going to say is that when it comes to bedroom shenanigans, there isn’t a whole lot of relaxing involved.”
We all burst out laughing before I, too, stood to roll my mat. “We better get out of here before the conversation takes a bigger turn, or my staff will start talking.”
I didn’t usually draw too much attention to it, but when I was in my early twenties and a self-described yoga addict, I’d started teaching classes in the basement of a local community center. As those classes grew in popularity, I held more and more until finally, my friends insisted I start charging for my time. It took me awhile, but I finally listened to them.
It didn’t happen overnight, but it wasn’t much longer than that before Go With The Flow was born. I started with the Aspen Valley location and quickly grew into a franchise across the western part of the country, and soon to be the East Coast as well, that had earned me more money than I was usually comfortable with. Even though I didn’t teach many classes myself anymore, I attended as many as possible, including the ones I was able to drag my friends to.
“Great class today, Jada.” I smiled at the instructor, who really was one of my favorites, as I ushered my girlfriends out of the studio before they could disrupt the Zen of anyone else.
“You all really could learn how to like the Shavasana,” I said as soon as we were settled into the cafe next door with our beverages of choice.
“Hey.” Abby held up a hand in defense. “I don’t hate it. It’s Britt who can’t shut her brain off long enough to sit still.”
“What is that all about, Britt?” Jessie asked. “I mean, I know you have a lot going on, but out of all of us, I’d think that you’d be the one who’d benefit the most from a little quiet time.”
Britt shook her head and sipped her espresso. “You know what I say about quiet time…”
“Make it loud?” Sandy could hardly keep a straight face, and Britt shot her a look.
“I guess I just don’t see the point,” she said after a moment. “But I promise I’ll try harder next time.”
“If there is a next time.” I rolled my eyes but hid my grin behind my mug of steaming green tea.
“Enough about yoga.” Abby shot me an apologetic glance. “Let’s talk about Blaze’s housewarming party tonight. You all got my text about it this morning?”
I did get the text, although I hadn’t replied either way. It’s not that I had anything—or anyone—to do, since saying goodbye to Kai, but I was waiting to talk to the rest of the girls about it.
Britt and Abby started in on a story about how Trent had called Abby first thing in the morning to get hold of her designer to help Blaze out because he didn’t love the decor in his rental house, and it was all I could do from rolling my eyes. It also served as a good reminder that Blaze, no matter how deep blue his eyes were, or how his smile somehow made butterflies come to life in my stomach, was still a celebrity. And it seemed I was right. He was a shallow, single-minded movie star who only cared about appearances.
“He said it wasn’t homey enough,” Abby said. “He wanted it to be more of a family home.” She held up her hands in a shrug. “His words, not mine.”
“A family home?” Sandy reached across the table to grab a scone from the plate of treats I’d ordered.
After all, what was a little workout without a treat afterward?
“Like I said, his words, not mine. I don’t know. Is that good?” Abby pointed at the treat Sandy had just taken a bite of; Sandy nodded, her mouth full. “Either way, he wanted the space to reflect his personality a little bit more.”
“Interesting.”
I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud until all four of them looked at me, with a mixture of bemused expressions on their faces.
“What does that mean, Darla?” Jessie asked first. “Do you not like Blaze? Because I was absolutely certain I saw—”
“What?” I should’ve just kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t something I was particularly good at in situations like these. Not that I was in them very often. “What did you see?”
“The way you were looking at him,” Britt answered.
“And the way he was looking at you.” Sandy nodded before sticking another piece of scone in her mouth.
“Oh, right,” Abby said to Sandy. “Like you saw anything at all.” She laughed. “Weren’t you off in the gardens with Dylan?”
“Or was that the time you’d snuck off to his room to do dirty things to each other instead of watching the screening of the movie?” Jessie jumped in with the friendly teasing.
To my surprise, Sandy, who had always been the most conservative one of all of us, tossed her hair back over her shoulder and winked. “Maybe I was a bit distracted,” she admitted. “But I still noticed.” She smoothly turned the focus back to me. “We all noticed, Darla. You like him.”
“I don’t.” To cover the fact that I was a terrible liar, I reached for a brownie and stuffed it into my mouth.
“Umm-hmm.” Jessie tapped her finger on the tabletop. “You’re so full of shit.”
“Okay,” I admitted with a laugh. “I think he’s sexy as hell and yes, I would have absolutely no problem inviting him into my bed.”
The girls exchanged glances.
“What?” I picked up my tea mug. “Don’t act like you’re surprised.”
“We’re not,” Brittany said slowly. “It’s just that…well, have you ever considered—”
“If you’re going to ask me if I’ve ever considered dating, save your breath.” I held up a finger. “Just because the rest of you are coupled up does not mean I’ve changed my mind about monogamy. I’m not interested.” Abby moved to open her mouth, but I stopped her with a sharp look. “I’m not, Abby. I’m one hundred percent happy the way things are.” Even as I said the words I’d said so many times before, I couldn’t help but notice I didn’t feel quite as strongly as I usually did. It was a feeling I pushed away.
“Okay,” Abby relented. “But…” She held up a hand to stop me before I could object to whatever she was going to say. “Hear me out.”
I put my mug down and sat back in my chair.
My friend grinned and leaned in. “I think it’s time for the pact.”
“The pact?” I caught myself before laughing out loud. “It doesn’t really apply to me.” I shook my head. “No. It doesn’t apply to me at all. I have never had the issues all of you had. I am perfectly in touch with my sexuality.”
That was an understatement, and everyone knew it. Just over a year earlier, Abby had come up with the idea of the silly pact when she was faced with what more or less amounted to an indecent proposal from her now-partner, Phillip. The idea was for all of us to throw caution to the wind and take a chance on something the way we used to twenty years earlier. To have a little fun—sexually or otherwise—and just go for it.
The thing was, while all of my best friends had spent the last twenty years in bad marriages, widowed, or just working too hard, I’d spent my time discovering my sexuality and exploring it with wild abandon. Going for it had never been an issue for me.
“Yes.” Jessie sat up in her chair. “The pact is a great idea. It’s your turn.”
I finished my tea in one last swallow and shook my head. “It doesn’t even make sense. If I want to sleep with Blaze Barron, I will.” I wiggled my eyebrows. Because I would very happily hook up with the sexy star. “I have absolutely no issue expressing myself that way. When I want, and with whom I want. I mean, if you want to apply the pact to me, go ahead. But I don’t think it makes much sense.”
“She’s right.” Sandy shook her head.
“There’s no rule that says we can’t change it to suit the situation,” Brittany declared.
“Yes!” Abby’s palm slapped the table. “That’s it.”
I looked between them. “I don’t follow.”
Abby pulled her chair closer to the table and looked me straight in the eyes. “For the rest of us, the pact was about stepping outside of our comfort zone and letting loose a little. Obviously, for us that all manifested sexually.”
The rest of the ladies nodded.
“But for you,” Abby continued, “stepping out of your comfort zone means not getting sexual.”
Whoa. What?
“Exactly,” Sandy agreed. “For you, the pact would be about restraint. Getting to know a man on a deeper level.”
My head spun with everything they were saying. Did my best friends in the entire world really think I couldn’t control myself to the degree that they needed to apply the whole silly pact thing? It was insane. Of course I got to know men on a deeper level. In fact, I knew all about Kai’s child—no, I didn’t. We’d never discussed our childhoods with each other. But certainly, we’d discussed our dreams and goals and—once again, no.
I took a deep, centering breath and exhaled slowly.
“You don’t even know that he wants to have sex with me,” I protested. “This entire thing hinges on that minor, yet very important, detail. You’re just assuming he’s into me.”
Brittany’s eyes widened, and Jessie grinned. “Judging by what we’ve seen, he’s very into you.”
They weren’t wrong. He may not have said anything specifically, but everything about his energy toward me was desirable. Every time we were in the same room, we gravitated toward each other. The feeling was very much mutual, and it didn’t take an expert to notice.
“So you’re saying that, for me, my challenge would be to not sleep with Blaze?”
“And to get to know him on a deeper level,” Sandy said again. “That’s important.”
Confused, I shook my head and stared at her. “I don’t know what that means. Deeper.”
She laughed. “Which is exactly why you should go for it.”
I was more confused than ever, but my friends all looked so excited about the idea and really, I’d been just as enthusiastic about the pact when the shoe was on the other foot, so in the interest of being a good sport, I agreed. After all, how hard could it be to not have sex with Blaze Barron?