“In My Blood” by Shawn Mendes.
Selena Gomez’s “Bad Liar.”
“I’m A Mess” by Bebe Rexha? Oh yeah.
Bad Wolves’ “Zombie” fit too.
Demi Lovato’s “Daddy Issues” absolutely got thrown in.
Probably should have been in there twice given how fucked up all demons were over their fathers.
When I did several dances—pole and Cyr wheel to P!NK’s “What About Us,” I honestly wasn’t surprised that people started to notice. It had been days of this. We weren’t stopping on Friday like normal corporate or business hours.
Yeah, not when I was also working a murder investigation and handling more. I had the time now and that was what we did.
We were about to break for lunch when Mason entered into the studio with a clear purpose and eyes only for me. He threw magic at the sound system and then he was in front of me.
I didn’t even have time to ask before his arm was holding me tightly to him and we were dancing to Bazzi’s “Mine.”
He was too locked down for me to get anything… So I simply danced. I didn’t know if this was a jealousy thing or—I just danced.
We did. His body was mine and mine was his. We were together in every step.
I realized it wasn’t possessive when he didn’t let me go after the song, but next was Ed Sheeran’s “Shape of You.”
But I still didn’t understand.
Nor as we danced “Call Out My Name” by The Weeknd.
He watched me intently, probably understanding I was working it out or hadn’t yet. I felt the music and him, completely in the moment with him as we moved.
The song was about tough times and leaning on him. Trusting him. Turning to him. Believing someone would catch me.
I thought I understood, but then the next song was Sam Hunt’s “Body Like a Back Road.” I thought it was a mistake… Except hetossedme up onto one of the poles and winked at me.
I frowned as I just got lost in the music and simply moved my body. No choreography or anything. Simply moving.
But still clueless at the end.
When “God is a Woman” came on from Ariana Grande, he pulled me back in his arms and we danced.
Then Cobi’s “Goddess.”
I was frustrated when next it was “You Should See Me in a Crown” by Billie Eilish.
“You’re thinking too hard, muffin,” he hinted finally. “You are the answer, not the problem. Enough focusing on theproblems and issues. Time to focus on the good too—balance.” He brushed his lips over mine when I went to say something. “You were diving too deep into the darkness in the music. Time to come back up.”
He wouldn’t let me drown. That was the point of all of this.
I was his goddess even if he called me muffin now. I was supposed to rely on him. My body was his. We were the match.
All the messages were the big picture.
Basically?
I thought so at least and just moved with him.
“I look forward to seeing what dances you come up with for those,” he told me, nodding when I met his gaze. “I will go watch you knowing you danced them with me first.”
