“I don’t dance.”
“Everybody dances,” said Diego.
“I don’t,” said Noah from the tree.
“I have an idea.” Diego reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. After a few swipes, Ricky Martin’s “Livin’ La Vida Loca” began blasting across the riverbank.
“Are you serious?”
“Safety first,” said Diego, swaying his hips to the beat with alarming enthusiasm.
I looked at Noah for help, but he provided the opposite. “Safety first,” he called.
“The music will help you find the right rhythm.” Diego moved around behind me, hands poised just above my hips. “May I?”
I sighed, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Fine.” If being able to salsa dance were the key to not drowning, I figured I would play along.
Just before Diego wrapped his hands around my waist, he stopped and pulled back. “Actually, you know what? This stuff is too good not to film. What’s more authentically Colorado than salsa dancing?”
“I’m guessing many, many things?”
“Your followers will love it.” Diego started a selfie video, salsa dancing around me like a caffeinated flamingo.
“You’re messing with me on purpose.”
“Me?” Diego feigned affront. “Never.”
“We can’t have you flipping the kayak just because you didn’t practice your hip rotations,” agreed Noah.
“Well, at least now I know you care about my well-being.” I gave Noah a fake smile.
“Actually, I was more concerned about the kayak.”
I gripped my paddle tighter as I resumed wiggling my hips,calculating the distance between it and Noah’s smug face. One quick swing ...
“Less rigid,” Diego instructed, still dancing around me. “Loosen up. Feel the flow.”
“I’m flowing, I’m flowing,” I muttered through clenched teeth, wiggling faster while plotting Noah’s watery demise.
“Noah, you come show her.” Diego’s grin only widened as he panned the camera to Noah. “She needs a hands-on demonstration.”
Noah’s eyes widened with alarm. “Me? Why me?”
“Because I’m filming.”
At first, I thought Noah was going to stomp off into the wilderness, never to be seen again. But instead, he pushed off the tree and started toward us.
“Safety first,” Diego sing-songed, while continuing to video the kayak-paddling-salsa lesson.
My heart beat faster with each closing step, breath catching as Noah approached. The morning sun caught the edges of his dark hair, turning them almost golden. My skin tingled with anticipation as I imagined his firm hands settling on my hips, showing me exactly how to move.
Guiding me.
Commanding me.
His long legs ate up the distance between us in seconds. I could almost feel the heat of his body, smell that mix of coffee and pine that seemed to follow him everywhere. My heart hammered against my ribs as he got closer.
Closer ...
