“You could have moved me at any time.”
“You were so peaceful, though.”
Kellan almost falls out of his chair he’s laughing so hard.
Tally smiles, but she’s wringing her hands in her lap.
I try to put myself in her shoes and see it through her eyes. And I get it. Finally. Of course she propositioned me. We have horny friends and we’re all open about sex. She’s been hanging around with these women for years, and we’re a bunch of professional athletes. We do everything at full tilt.
She might not have all of these experiences yet, but I’ll be the one to fill every need and fantasy.
“Never have I ever made out with my significant other in an inappropriately public place.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder.
“You two need to down the rest of your drinks.” Dallas points at Rix and Tristan.
Everyone laughs.
I touch my finger to Tally’s chin.
She looks up at me, questions in her pretty, sea-blue eyes. “You don’t think my car counts?” I brush my lips over hers. When she doesn’t pull away, I suck her bottom lip. Then I move my hand to conceal our faces and stroke inside her mouth.
Someone whistles. Connor starts clapping. Someone throws a balled-up napkin at us, but I don’t take my eyes off Tally as I pull back. Her cheeks are red, but she’s smiling.
I clink my glass against hers. “Drink up, kitten.”
CHAPTER 25
TALLY
Iknock, but I doubt anyone can hear me over the whirr of the skill saw. After a few seconds, I poke my head in the studio. I’m holding a tray of coffees and a box of pastries. I don’t believe these treats will magically make the studio useable, but Flip suggested it yesterday, so maybe I can at least get an idea of when it will be.
A man in his mid-twenties puts the saw down and approaches. “Hey, how can I help you?”
“I just wanted to stop by with some coffees.” I hold out the tray and the bakery box. “And snacks.”
“Are you the dance instructor?” he asks skeptically.
I laugh. “No. I’m a student who regularly uses this studio.”
“Oh.” Understanding dawns. “A lot of you have stopped by to ask when it’ll be finished. You’re the first to bring snacks, though.”
“I’m sorry for the interruption.” I look down at the bare plywood floor. “I guess you’ll be a while yet?”
He transfers the coffee and snacks to one hand and thumbs over his shoulder with the other. “The prep work is almost done,but the flooring is special order, and it hasn’t been delivered yet.”
“Ah, okay. So at least a couple more weeks?” I hedge.
“Once the flooring arrives, it should only take a few days to lay, but then it needs to be sealed, so a couple of weeks is optimistic,” he explains. “That’s probably not what you want to hear, eh?”
I shake my head. “No, but it’s easier to plan this way. Thanks for taking the time to explain.”
“No problem. Thanks for being understanding.”
I can only imagine what other people’s reactions have been. A couple of students in my class have broken down in tears over studio time. I’ve felt the pressure building lately, too.
The final showcase isn’t until the end of the semester, but it’s not the only thing I need studio time for. I have mini solo and group in-class performances that need my attention as well. I might have to bite the bullet and deal with driving across town to use Flip’s yoga studio.
My phone buzzes with a new message.
