For starters, I don’t look how people expect a yoga instructor to look.” His gaze rakes over my body, chin tipping down and then back up. And the only thing I see in his eyes is appreciation. “What do you mean? You look like a yoga instructor to me.” He says it so simply and with a slightly confused tone. It’s…endearing. Refreshing. I lift a shoulder, playing his response off casually. “I meant my size.” At that his brows furrow. Confusion morphing into irritation. “People are stupid,” he grumbles simply.
