“You’re back.” He shrugs. “Turns out I like yoga.” Bash groans and rolls his eyes so dramatically that his head practically follows their motion. I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing here—especially since he can barely look at me. But me? I beam because I knew yesterday’s stretching would make Clyde feel better. “I’m thrilled to hear that. Maybe we can make a more regular appointment?” “Sure. I’ll make it for right now.” Bash glares at Clyde. “Whatever you do, you can’t just drive down the mountain yourself like you did yesterday. Your legs don’t bend well enough after dialysis to push the
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