Page 73 of Every Time We Touch

“I’ve been talking with Dad about selling Fluxx.”

“Oh, right. He was probably fed up with talking about his feelings, so he changed the subject. That kind of makes sense if you know Dad.” He pauses. “And it also shows you that he’s still very much worried about your future. And you, like, in general. That his anger doesn’t completely stand in the way of that. I’d say that’s a good sign.”

“Yeah.” I’ve been showing up at the office of my own company as a zombie the past couple of weeks. “I hope so.”

“Call me any time,” Austin says.

“Thanks.” We hang up and while I tell my mom and Nora what Austin said, I think that, despite what I’m putting them through, I’m so damn lucky to be a part of this family. Because we may not get to choose who we fall in love with, but we certainly don’t get to choose the family we’re born into. And I was born into an exceptional one.

Chapter 38

Clancy

Teaching Jen how to rumba is miles removed from when I first taught her the tango. It’s more difficult—but in a good way—because we can’t keep our hands off each other and the rumba is an intimate dance. At the same time, it’s joyful and sexy and, for me, a few hours in which I can make the rest of the world disappear. This is also my goal for this lesson for Jen.

Sure, I want her to learn the rumba, if only for the sheer pleasure of dancing it with her, but more than that, I want her to be in this moment with me so she can forget about everything else for a while.

“The rumba’s not so much about the steps,” I say, although the actual technique is rather difficult, but it’s best not to lead with that when teaching a beginner. “It’s about what happens in the space between them.”

“I bet.” Jen’s also a million times feistier than when she first walked into my studio.

“Do you want to learn or not?” I try my strict teacher voice, but it doesn’t come natural to me, and most certainly not with Jen.

“I’m quite happy with you dancing to ‘A Breathless Place’ for me solo for the rest of my days.” That grin on her lips is so irresistible, I almost kiss her. But I do have some professional pride.

“How about I dance it for you after this lesson, as a reward for you being a model student.”

“As foreplay, you mean?” Jen stands with her hands on her hips, not taking this seriously at all.

“As motivation,” I say, in the most teacherly tone I can muster. “Now.” I step closer and take her hands. “Feel me first.” I place her hands on my hips and watch her exhale, although I’m not making it easy on her.

I look her in the eye and make sure she knows I mean business before she can crack another joke—although having her touch me hardly makes it easy on me either.

“It’s all in the hips,” I say, and begin to move them in a slow figure eight beneath her hands. “It’s not a big movement. It’s very controlled. Feel what I’m doing.” I watch her face as she feels the motion. Her lips part slightly and her fingers tighten on me while trying to map my movement.

“Clancy,” Jen says, her tone serious. “I think you’re too hot to teach me how to rumba.” Her hands remain on my hips.

“Have you ever heard of the concept of self-control?” I’m not sure how I keep my voice steady, because Jen is also way too hot for me to teach the rumba to. But I have this persistent image in my head of the two of us dancing this particular dance together.

“You’re lecturing me about self-control?” Jen’s fingers dig a little deeper. “That’s just adorable.”

She’s not wrong, but I don’t give up that easily. “Okay.” I step back so we’re no longer touching. “It wasn’t the best idea to have you put your hands on me.”

Jen wiggles her fingers about. “You know what these babies can do.”

I chuckle—because I do. “We can’t just be fucking all the time.”

“Fucking and processing, you mean.” She grins at me.

“My studio’s going to be closed for three weeks soon. Humor me. I want to dance with you.” I tilt my head and bat my lashes. “Do it for me. Be the teacher’s pet I need you to be.”

“If you put it like that.” Jen steps closer. “You’re going to have to show me without me touching you, though. Like you would with a student who isn’t also, um, me.” Did she mean to say ‘your girlfriend’? Her cheeks pink up and it’s the cutest thing I’ve seen all day.

I might have been expecting too much from Jen under the circumstances because I haven’t exactly been teaching her like I would any other student.

I take a breath and square my shoulders. “The hip action is a consequence of how you transfer your weight.” I take a slow step to the side. “I let my weight settle first. Then my hip follows. If you force it, it looks awkward. If you let it happen, it looks natural.”

Jen huffs out a breath. “The problem is that you can’t possibly look hotter than when you dance. Even a tiny step like that. Pwoar.” She fans herself with her fingers.