I roll to a stop outside a building at the end of a modest strip mall, with large windows that bathe the interior in natural light. I’m early, but that was intentional—I wanted to scout the place out. Rows of yoga mats line the floors with about a dozen people inside, all of them moving in synchronized motion. Hannah is at the front, bent over with her hands holding her ankles just like the rest of them.

I park and climb off my bike to watch from the parking lot as Hannah slowly starts to lift her torso, her arms spreading out to her sides and eventually linking together above her head as she straightens with fluid grace. Then she brings her hands down to her chest in a prayer position and starts to lift one foot, eventually resting it against her opposite knee.

Each movement flows into the next with a precision that speaks of years of practice, and I can’t stop myself from staring. But like she can sense my eyes on her, her gaze snaps up and she spots me through the glass.

As soon as she sees me, her balance wobbles a little, and I feel a rush of satisfaction. She can try to deny that there’s something between us all she wants, but she can’t hide the truth. Her body’s giving her away, saying all the things she won’t let herself say.

I like that I affect her the way she affects me—because ever since I ran into her in the locker room and realized who she was, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. It’s gotten so bad that I’ve even had trouble focusing on hockey lately, and that’s saying something because that’s been my north star for as long as I can remember.

Hockey has always been my constant, my clarity—it’s never been a problem for me to lose myself in the game, so I don’t know what to make of this. But as into Hannah as I am, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little worried about how much she’s getting into my head.

Part of me wonders if the slow pivots that Coach Dunaway is picking up on have less to do with my physical ability and more to do with my mind being elsewhere thanks to his daughter.

But it’s not like I can say that to him, and I wasn’t about to pass up an excuse to spend more time alone with Hannah, so here I am.

The class she’s teaching appears to be wrapping up as the people inside are rolling up their mats and filing out of the building. I wait until everyone’s gone before I step in and make my way toward Hannah.