Page 79 of A Labor of Hate
Most of the class chuckled politely.One woman, a brunette probably a decade older than me, eyed Colt hungrily and raised her hand.“What about those who don’t have an assigned partner?Are we mixing things up?Maybe” —her voice dropped to a sultry purr— “sharing?”
My smile tightened, likely looking more sharklike than polite at this point.Colt took a discreet step away from the woman.
“That won’t be an issue, actually.”Acting on an impulse—and a healthy dose of unjustified possessiveness—I crossed the distance toward Colt.The heels of my dancing shoes clicked softly against the floor yet still managed to reverberate around the room.
Colt watched me carefully, his expression giving away precious little until I sent him an apologetic smile and grabbed his hand.Before he could protest, I pulled him along with me until we faced the rest of the class.
Vivienne bounced on her heels at this development, nudging Charles in the side and whispering to him.Her grin never budged an inch.
“Everyone” —I gestured to Colt, hoping theplease don’t hate me for thiswas evident in my eyes— “this is my husband, Colt.He has graciously agreed to help me today.”
His surprise was a mere flicker, the upward tick of his brows, the subtle widening of his eyes.And then, to my astonishment, he squeezed my hand and offered a slight half-smile.
Brunette woman—Gina, I think?—frowned, and my smile widened.
“You don’t happen to know how to tango already, do you?”I murmured.
“Not even a little,” he admitted just as quietly.
Well.This would be interesting, then.
“In that case” —I raised my voice and addressed the class as a whole— “we’ll go through the counts first.I’ll show you the footwork by myself, and then we’ll demonstrate how it will look in partnerships.Gentlemen or leading partners, you’ll be going forward and starting with your left foot, and following partners, you’ll be going backward and starting on your right.”
I would’ve felt ridiculous, going through the counts repeatedly and holding myself like I was dancing with a partner when I wasn’t, but dance was like a second home to me.I’d loved it before Dominick’s passing, and after that, it became my lifeline.Every discipline I could learn, I learned it.Classical and contemporary were my most proficient and what had earned me scholarships, but I’d learned the basics of others well enough to teach and had done so at dance camps for years growing up.
So, despite the rough few minutes at the beginning of class, I slipped into my groove easily.Strong core, shoulders back, chin up, the smallest ghost of a smile on my lips.I still didn’t love the way my belly threw off my balance, but by now, I’d adjusted to it significantly better.
It really seemed like I’d be able to get through the class unfazed, until it came time for Colt and I to demonstrate the moves together.My heart pounded more than it had any right to as I walked up to him.My stomach fluttered.Vulnerability and excitement like a teenager all over again, like when my partner was Levi Downsby, the boy all the girls in my dance company were crushing on—myself included.
Except now, it felt even bigger.More significant than an adolescent crush.
The second we touched, the voltage that rocked through me only proved it.My lungs struggled to expand fully.And when our eyes locked, I nearly lost my train of thought.
Colt moved into the dancing position I’d indicated for the leading partners.With his already impeccable posture and strength, he needed very few adjustments.His right hand rested beneath my left shoulder blade, his left hand clasped in my right.We stood only a foot or so apart, but with the tummy, very little space remained between us.Every inch of my skin tingled where we almost touched.Like it, too, hungered to close the gap entirely.Feel his warmth.His electricity.
His eyes flicked over me, dark and magnetic and smothering in their intensity.When they settled on my lips, my mouth went dry.Everything else faded into the background.I imagined an alternate timeline, one where he chose me, where he loved my final picture and freely gave me the pleasure of piecing together his own puzzle.Where he wanted me even half as much as I wanted him.
The best competitive dancers always looked a little bit in love with each other when they danced.Some of them even were.And right now, with his gravity pulling me inward, it was easy to pretend we were one of them.Towantto be one of those in love with each other so badly it ached.
“Ifhelooked atmelike that, I’d be pregnant, too,” one of the women joked.
It pulled me out of my trance, and, using every drop of willpower I possessed, I looked away and addressed the class again.
We’d nearly made it through the rest of the class with a controllable amount of pining on my end when Vivienne raised her hand again.A strange combination of anticipation and dread zipped through me.I didn’t know what plan she’d cooked up, and I wasn’t sure whether I’d like it.
She smiled a little too innocently.“So, for those of us whodowant to get cozy with our partners, how do you do the Argentine tango?Just out of curiosity.”
My cheeks heated.I checked the clock, weighing how ethical it would be to cut class short just to avoid putting my heart through the wringer with Colt even more.“Oh, I can point you toward some great YouTube channels if you’re interested.”
She waved off my offer, the cunning gleam in her eyes making the irises a startlingly bright blue.“For more of the advanced steps, sure, but why not get a live demonstration from an expert while we’re here?”
To my horror, a murmur of assent swept through the class.She may be the ringleader, but she wasn’t the only one who wanted to learn.
Unfortunately.
Colt watched me, waiting to see what I would do.When one of his eyebrows arched over his smoldering eyes in challenge, I was done for.
Masochist that I was, I found myself nodding and moving toward him.My pulse pounded deafeningly in my ears.My body buzzed with anticipation and nerves.
