Some part of her insisted this was the worst of bad ideas; inwardly she cringed, imagining herself later telling Fee - who would undoubtedly guess what had gone on, and no mistake - she had slept with her yoga instructor, who was also her next door neighbor. It was too many cliches, too many romcom plots in a single go, and somehow it was hard to believe it was nonetheless her life. But still more frustrating was the fact that even knowing this, even feeling the pang of self consciousness as she did, more of her wanted this, wanted him, someone who didn't look at her with so much impotent worry in his eyes. So she kissed him back, leaning into him, her hands tentatively coming to rest at his hips.