Page 26 of Every Time We Touch

Only for you. I jump out of my chair.

“Thank you,” Jen says, as she wraps her arms around me for the briefest of hugs.

I watch her saunter off and sink back into my chair. Jen has barely left, when Marisol appears next to me.

“Hot date, chica?” she asks.

“I wish,” I say—and that really tells me all I need to know, even though I’m nowhere near ready to admit that to myself. Or to face the consequences.

Chapter 13

Jen

“Nice shorts,” Clancy says when I arrive. That cocky grin does not look as though it will disappear from her face any time soon. I did give her what she wanted. In my defense, it’s a hot day today.

“Likewise.” Shamelessly, I let my gaze wander over her bare legs. Mine look like ice-cold bottles of milk compared to the warm glow of her golden legs.

“I’m so glad you took my advice.”

“You seem to have that effect on me.” I take a beat, because I’m not sure what I’ve walked into. I’m here for a tango lesson but, off the bat, it feels more like an outrageously flirty third date.

“Good to know.” Clancy’s halter top accentuates the sexy squareness of her shoulders. Phew. I seem to be suffering from some pent-up lust—from lack of having another human touch me in a certain way. Maybe I should try to have a one-night stand with someone from the apps.

“I am teacher’s pet.” I have no grip on myself when I’m around her.

“And you’d like it to stay that way.” Clancy’s smile disappears off her face, as though she just caught herself. She clears her throat. “Okay. Shall we dance?”

“Yes, please.”

“Let’s work on your posture,” Clancy says. “Take your position, as though you’re about to dance with me.”

Bummer. No touching just yet. Possibly for the best. I do as she says. I bring my feet together, then shift my weight onto one leg so the other can move freely. My knees are soft, my spine long and I lift my chest a fraction.

“Arms up, as if we’re in hold,” Clancy says as she circles me slowly.

I lift up my arms, framing the empty space in front of me.

“Hand position,” she says, making me feel like I’m taking a test I definitely didn’t prepare for. Even though I thought of Clancy every time my hamstrings hurt this week—and it took a fair few days for the pain to wear off. And then she invited me to lunch. I might have also watched that tango clip she sent me a few more times—hence all that pent-up lust.

I do something with my hands that I’m sure is not correct, but it’s difficult when you’re just touching air, whereas last week I could place them on her strong shoulders.

She stands in front of me and reaches for my left hand to adjust it inward. She pushes my right elbow a little higher, then walks to my backside. Her hand on my back is meant to correct my posture, but it has the opposite effect. My core slackens because—I don’t even know. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here, but the notion only briefly occurred to me. Mostly because I really—really—wanted to see her.

Clancy taps her fingertips lightly against my back. “Flex,” she says and it’s only one word, but does her breath seem a little ragged? “Brace your core,” she continues. “This is important.” If she was—for some reason—short of breath earlier, she has already regrouped. Next, she brings her hands to my bare shoulders—oh boy—and pushes them down a fraction. Then she slides one hand between my shoulder blades. “I need constant activation here.” Her fingertips press lightly into my flesh. This isn’t posture correction. This is torture. “I know it’s hard at the beginning, but you will learn.” Clancy steps in front of me again. Her face is serious as she inspects me. “Very good.”

I swallow hard, not only because keeping this posture while standing still and not holding onto anything is difficult, but also because what I’ve been trying to deny for the past two weeks is starting to dawn on me.

I’m attracted to her. And the lesson’s only just started. There’s one hour and forty-five minutes to go. I’m not sure how I will survive all that time in such close proximity to my dad’s girlfriend. I’m certainly not afraid of doing anything I shouldn’t—that’s so not who I am—but I am afraid of my feelings, current and future ones.

“Relax a minute,” Clancy says. “Take a breath.”

I drop my arms and unclench my muscles. No wonder she has a body like an athlete’s. As well as good fun, dancing is hard work. Maybe that’s what makes it so addictive. Learning how to tango isn’t like turning up at a club and busting some moves to the beat. It’s not for everyone and while, under different circumstances, it would definitely be something for me—something to engage my body as well as my brain—my teacher is simply too distracting.

Our banter from earlier seems long forgotten and the vibe in the studio has changed into something heavier. I’m afraid to say anything in case of escalation. I have no idea what Clancy’s thinking. If she can tell. But I was hardly the only one flirting earlier. And she invited me to lunch on Monday. But maybe it’s something else for her. Maybe it’s just how she is. It might be the very reason my dad fell for her. Yes. This is exactly the train of thought to focus on. My dad. That should snap me right out of it.

“Ready?” Clancy asks.

I nod. She stands close to me.