Chapter Twelve
To my surprise, the limo pulled up to a ballroom dance studio. The guys never ran the evening plans by Todd and didn’t know we were practically professional dancers.
I pulled Todd and Rick aside as we walked in. “I guess when I told them we were impressive on the dance floor, they assumed I meant we could bump and grind.”
Todd snickered. “Don’t tell them what we can do. Start the lesson, then when I cut in on you with them, we’ll show them how it’s done.”
“How long has it been since you two ballroom danced? It’s not like riding a bike,” said Rick.
“It’s exactly like riding a bike, darling. You don’t forget.” Todd brushed his lips to Rick’s to ease the sting of contradiction.
Rick rolled his eyes, but wasn’t mad. “Let’s get this over with. At the club, you’re mine for the first hour, Todd.”
“Absolutely. Let’s go.”
The instructor paired me with Arch. Gray and Wes awkwardly took each other’s hands. The instructor placed their arms appropriately. They both kept trying to lead, bumbling and stumbling over each other. Laughing at the two of them kept my focus off of my debonair partner, to his disappointment.
I pulled it together and played the part of the dutiful student. Todd whispered to Rick as we passed them, “Not like that, my love. I always lead.”
Rick replied, “Don’t I know it.” I stifled a giggle.
We were shown how to hold our hands and the basic box step. We walked through it several times. Once our simple steps satisfied the instructor, a waltz floated over the PA system, and we struck off on our own, boxing our way around the room. “I told Ms. Callie, the instructor, that this was only one lesson for novelty. She isn’t trying to lay a foundation for learning,” Arch whispered in my ear. “She’s making sure we have fun.”
“This is the best. And it’s about to get better,” I said slyly. A confused expression crossed Arch’s face as Todd tapped him on the shoulder.
Todd affected a deep tone of voice. “May I cut in?”
Arch turned to me for an answer. I nodded eagerly, and he stepped aside.
“Shall we?” asked Todd.
“Absolutely!” I responded, delighted.
I arched my back and threw my arms out gracefully. Head tilted, body frozen, I waited for Todd to walk around me and put his right hand under my left shoulder blade to lead me around the room. The familiarity of our holds took me back to our teenage years when we danced every weekend. I closed my eyes and pictured my dad in the audience cheering us on. Serenity flowed over me, and I felt like I was home.
Once he touched my back, he slid his left hand down my right arm and took my hand. Our abdomens pressed tightly together, my back still arched. Todd started twirling us around the room, slowly at first, counting under his breath to get us in the rhythm. The press of his hand told me which way to go and how to move my feet.
With a low dip, Todd kicked it up a notch. I took a deep breath as he started to twirl me. “One, two-three.” We began to fall into a faster rhythm. “One, two-three. One, two-three.” My blue skirt twirled around me as he spun me across the room, faster and faster. We were born to dance with one another. Todd’s feet mirrored mine, and my hold matched his. The years of hard work paid off as I caught glimpses of three shocked faces and one proud Rick.
As the song ended, I spotted Gray out of the corner of my eye, whispering in Ms. Callie’s ear. Todd and I threw out our arms, and he bowed while I curtsied. Applause, whistles, and hoots met our final movements.
Gray walked up and gave me a formal bow, one hand out. “May I have this dance?”
“I suppose I have room for one more on my dance card,” I replied.
He clasped my hands and brought them to our sides as the distinctive sounds of salsa came over the loudspeakers. “Cha cha cha,” he whispered in my ear, his breath hot on my neck. The music, thankfully, drowned out my moan as his breath on my skin consumed my emotions.
I didn’t need to make myself arch my back with Gray. I craved the press of my pelvis against his as he directed our movements on the dance floor. He pulled away from me with a smirk, absolutely aware of his effect on my libido. If this was what friendship meant to them, I was definitely okay with it.
We started several feet from each other. My body knew the way, and I swayed to the beat of the dance, the music moving my feet automatically, my hips falling into the one-two-cha cha cha like an old friend.
Gray was glorious. He danced well enough to have had lessons. After a few circuits, he took me in his arms and pulled me to and fro, our hips in sync to the music and each other. He swayed and thrust, and my hips moved with his as if attached by a short string. He pulled away; I followed. He advanced; I retreated.
He began to twirl me before moving himself around me. I glued my gaze to his. As a student, you learned to watch your partner’s face as you danced. I had no issue staring at Gray, looking away was the difficulty. His fluid body led me all over the room, and his whiskey eyes flamed. His hips moved seductively. I couldn’t help imagining what else they could do.
The song ended before I was ready to stop dancing. “I could dance like that forever,” he said under his breath, his words meant for me only.
“My thoughts exactly,” I breathed.
