Page 42 of The Bloke

You are a strong, amazing, and incredible woman.

Pirouette. Arabesque.

Everything that you should be.

Pirouette.

Chyler’s words echoed through me, and I stopped in front of the ballet bar, gripping it tightly as unwanted thoughts crept back into my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut before pushing off from the bar and guiding myself back into the center of the room.

I opened my eyes and picked up my pace, sliding across the floor on my knees, arching my back upwards, and hanging my head back towards my feet.

Watching myself in the mirror, I leaned forward with my arms stretched out, palms to the floor. Using the weight from my hips, I pushed my upper body forward, lowering it until I lay flat on the floor with my forearms propping me up like a plank.

I rolled my hips against the ground as the dancers did during the Heaven Down Under revue show before flipping over to my back, planting my feet firmly on the ground, and pushing up into a bridge before using my inner thighs, hamstrings, and glutes to pull my body gracefully up to standing.

Stepping forward, I pressed my back against the mirror, rolling my hips and body to the music before pushing myself away and back towards the ballet bar. I set myself up to pirouette one last time around the room; this time, I kept my eyes closed, allowing myself to float around in the dark.

Make sure he understands that before you pull the trigger and decide to love him.

Her last words resonated on a deeper level more than any advice she had offered before.

Could I love him? Did she see something I didn’t? In him? In me?

With my last spin, I must have overcalculated my initial positioning because I ran into the wall at the other end of the room.

When I opened my eyes from the surprise, strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me close.

I took out one of my earbuds, panting heavily from my warm-up. My eyes were now locked on those of my husband, who had let himself into my studio once again.

“What’s wrong, love?” Colby softly spoke, dragging a knuckle down my tear-streaked cheek. It was hard to resist leaning into his hand, a gentle touch of comfort.

“No—nothing.” Staring up into his bright blue eyes, I almost forgot why I was still here—what I was doing. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“What are you listening to?” He ignored my question, asking his own instead.

I frowned, glancing down at the earbud that I had just removed. Looking back up at him, I placed the earbud into his right ear and tapped it on the side to start the song I was dancing to. The second one was still in my left ear to listen to the music with him.

He leaned his head down to press his forehead against mine as he closed his eyes.

Something so simple, like listening to a song, was becoming more intimate than I had imagined it would, especially with him.

His grip tightened on my waist as he slowly started to sway with me in his arms.

“Dance with me.” He murmured, releasing my waist and taking my hand.

“I don’t—” I shook my head, not wanting to be this close to him right now.

“One dance, love.” His eyes opened and softened as he sighed.

It was a plea—something that I never thought would come from him; that I would always be the one left to beg for him to give me what I wanted, whether romantic or sexual.

I squeezed his hand, tapping my earbud twice to start the song from the beginning, and he took both of my hands, leading me into a jazz-style dance across the room.

He pulled me in close, his hands gliding along my stomach and back as I spun in his arms, our touches grazing past one another like a whisper before I snapped back, leaping into his arms. Using the momentum from the jump, he swung me around his waist, my arms catching around his neck as my legs followed from around his back.

I slid my body down to the floor between his legs as he stepped over me before his strong arms pulled me back up, my hands gripping his shoulders as I pushed one foot into his knee, throwing my free leg up in the air behind me into an arabesque.

I stared down at him, holding my position, unable to comprehend how incredibly freeing it felt to dance with the man I had convinced myself I hated so much.

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