It had been nearly two weeks since the Halloween party, but the girls were still riding the afterglow.

  They’d cimed the back patio at Sarah’s house - sweaty and radiant after a brutally satisfying yoga session led by Sarah. Oversized mugs of cardamom-ginger chai sat steaming on the table, next to bowls of fresh fruit and roasted almonds. Their mats y rolled near the door, and the girls lounged barefoot in light wraps and tank tops, their skin still flushed from exertion.

  A soft breeze threaded through the hedges, and the speaker on the windowsill pyed Cami’s Buddha Bar CD, soulful and golden.

  Cami, Marisol, Sarah, LaTasha, and Nandita had finally found a morning where none of them had css, practice, or men to wrangle.

  It was girl bonding time.

  “My hips may never forgive you,” LaTasha groaned, stretching one leg out with a wince. “That pigeon pose was a betrayal.”

  “That pigeon pose,” Nandita added, fanning herself, “made me see God. And also every muscle I didn’t know I had.”

  Sarah smiled smugly, legs tucked under her. “You’ll thank me tomorrow when your back feels like it’s been kissed by angels.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Cami muttered, eyeing Sarah’s ft stomach. “You don’t even sweat. You glow.”

  Marisol sipped her chai, amused. “She’s like one of those eighties workout goddesses. Except smugger.”

  “You’re one to talk,” Cami shot back. “Watching you do that backbend today was like watching a telenove in slow motion. Your shirt rode up and I nearly fell off my mat.”

  “I’m just flexible - thanks to Sarah’s sessions over the st two months. Bharath likes us bendy,” Marisol said sweetly.

  “Flexible and smug,” Sarah added.

  The girls broke into ughter.

  “I still can’t believe how much has changed since Halloween,” Nandita said, curling her fingers around her mug. “I went into that party a nervous ghost and came out with a date and a spotlight.”

  “And curves,” Cami teased. “Ravi’s been looking at you like you’re the Mona Lisa, and he’s the world’s horniest art historian.”

  LaTasha cackled. “Girl, I saw him the other day at the vending machine just standing there, smiling like an idiot. I asked if he was okay. He said, ‘I was just thinking about Nandita’s ugh.’”

  Nandita turned crimson. “Oh my god, please.”

  “Don’t hide,” Sarah said, stretching nguidly. “We’re all obsessed with ours. Might as well brag about it.”

  LaTasha raised her mug. “To our men.”

  “Still learning how to be men,” Marisol added, lifting hers. “But worth the investment.”

  They clinked their mugs gently.

  Cami leaned back, gazing at the circle. “For real though? This group is something else. I’ve had girl groups, study groups, roommates. But this feels…”

  “Like family,” Marisol finished.

  “Chosen family,” Sarah echoed.

  Cami nodded slowly. “And I swear, Mia’s gonna fit in perfectly. I get this feeling. Like she’s going to be the sharp-tongued little sister I never had.”

  Marisol’s smile softened. “She’s already there. And she’s obsessed with how good Sarah and I look in yoga gear, by the way.”

  “Girl, we’re obsessed,” LaTasha said, motioning between them. “I mean, come on. Those legs? Those abs? Those boobs? This morning was practically pornographic. I was stretching and praying, y’all were seducing the sun.”

  “You are unreal,” Nandita agreed. “I’m over here trying not to pass out and Sarah’s casually doing a one-legged crow like it’s her day job.”

  Sarah smirked. “I just teach. Marisol’s the real natural.”

  Marisol waved a hand. “My secret is being in love and constantly worshipped.”

  She grinned wickedly. “Also, daily yoga with Sarah and frequent acrobatics with Bharath will make anyone more flexible. We’re basically in a three-person Olympics - except instead of medals, we get multiple orgasms.”

  Sarah raised her mug. “And sore hips. Don’t forget those.”

  That got a round of gasps, ughter, and mock cps.

  “Speaking of…” Cami leaned in, eyes gleaming. “What’s it really like - being with someone like Bharath? Be honest. We’re taking notes.”

  Marisol and Sarah exchanged a look - not just wicked, but reverent. A silent dialogue passed between them: memories, sensations, love that ran too deep for casual phrasing.

  “It’s…” Marisol began, but her voice caught. She tried again, softer. “It’s more than anyone expects. Than we ever expected.”

  Sarah’s tone turned gentle. “It’s not just sex. It’s soulwork. Like… he doesn’t touch your body until he’s already memorized your spirit.”

  Marisol nodded, eyes glimmering. “He learns you. Every breath, every silence, every shiver. And then he gives it back to you - like worship, like truth. I’ve never felt more… seen.”

  “He listens,” Sarah whispered. “With his hands. With his mouth. With his whole body. And when he finally moves inside you - it’s not just pleasure. It’s like something sacred passing through your ribs.”

  LaTasha blinked, stunned. “Damn.”

  “It’s slow,” Marisol said. “Until it’s not. Sometimes he makes you wait, hovering at the edge until your soul’s about to slip out of your body. And then he takes you apart so gently you’re sobbing. Or he holds you down and ruins you so perfectly it feels like salvation.”

  “It’s not about dominance,” Sarah added. “It’s devotion. He adores us. He brings all his focus, all that brain of his - the way he learns coding or nguages? That’s how he learns our bodies. And our hearts.”

  There was a long pause.

  Cami pressed a hand to her chest. “Okay… well. Jorge’s definitely getting a deeply emotional PowerPoint tonight.”

  “Send me that when you’re done. I’m going to add charts,” LaTasha muttered. “with voiceover.”

  Nandita was quiet, visibly moved. “You really love him,” she said softly. “I mean - not just desire. Not just romance. It’s like he’s part of you.”

  Marisol smiled, her voice thick. “He is. He’s in our bones. In our breaths. And the more he loves us, the more ourselves we become.”

  Sarah nodded. “He doesn’t tame you. He unleashes you.”

  Cami swallowed hard. “No offense, but y’all are making me cry a little.”

  “Same,” Nandita whispered. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

  Sarah reached for Marisol’s hand, their fingers cing easily. “We didn’t either. But then he loved us into it. Into being this… this us.”

  The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was full.

  Cami finally broke it, voice wry. “Apsara training, huh?”

  Sarah grinned. “Lesson one: Trust. Lesson two: Teasing. Lesson three…”

  Marisol: “Learn his tells. What makes him lose control. Then use it.”

  They ughed, legs folded, sun warming their skin. The air smelled like chai and eucalyptus and victory.

  “I love this,” Nandita said. “Us. This energy.”

  Sarah nodded. “It’s power. Shared, not hoarded.”

  “And it’s only the beginning,” Marisol said.

  There was a ripple of ughter again. And something more. Anticipation. Possibility. Sacred mischief.

  As the girls leaned back, hair damp from sweat, hearts full from connection, the breeze stirred the chimes above them. The sound was soft. Almost like a bell.

  A signal.

  Tonight would be interesting. Their men wouldn’t know what hit them.