Page 26 of Forbidden Dance
He lowers me down. “You okay?” he asks. “Was that a strain?”
“Not at all,” I say. And that part is true. But I’m so high, so outrageously overflowing with excitement in his presence, that it is almost painful. I can’t tell him that.
“Too bad we don’t have any music. I left my cell phone in my car.” He notices my string bag. “Do you have yours?”
My face burns. “Not with me,” I say.
“Good for you. Going off grid.” He takes my hand and assumes the waltz position, but this time he leads me into another type of step, in a box. “I wish I could stop torturing myself with the Burn Blitz Burn hashtag.”
“What’s that?” I try to relax and follow Blitz’s steps, but with no music or any idea what he’ll do next, it’s all I can do not to tromp all over him.
“It sounds like fun, which is why everybody keeps jumping in. They bash me pretty damn hard with it. Every time I think it’s died down, it resurrects itself.”
“Like Zombie Jesus,” I say.
His laugh reverberates off the stage and walls of the recital hall. “Princess, where have you been all my life?”
Hiding under my father’s iron rule, I think, but I simply continue to follow his step. He rolls me out, ducking me under his arm, then lifts my arm so he can turn beneath mine. We do this over and over again until I’m breathless and my arm aches. But it’s fun, so fun. We’re dancing almost as part of the conversation.
“So do you have class today?” he asks.
I let go of him. “Oh my gosh. What time is it?”
He flicks the round screen on his wristband. A watch face lights up. “Four-ten.”
“Oh, no! I’m late!” I run for my bag, then stop. “Come with me,” I say. “Betsy can teach you a few things!”
He hesitates.
“Do you have something better to do?” I ask. “Like reading nasty Burn Blitz Burn Tweets?”
“Touché,” he says. “All right. But I’ll have to keep my hands off you in there.” We head off the side of the stage.
My heart revs up. “Why is that?”
“Your kindly boss Danika,” he says. “I’m skating on thin ice after Wednesday.”
Shoot. That’s right. It was one thing to sneak a dance in an empty recital hall. Another thing to be together with an audience.
I stop walking. “Maybe we should go through the main entrance of the recital hall rather than just appearing from the storage room.”
“I’ll risk it if you will,” he says. His smile is devilishly charming, and my heart immediately reacts with a jump in my pulse.
He takes my hand and we head into the staging area, where the door to the storage room still stands open.
My blood rushes in my ears. “Did you have some nefarious plan for in there?” I ask.
We dodge the costume racks. He pulls me behind one.
“Just this,” he says.
He cradles my face in both of his hands, and before I can even think, his lips land on mine.
Kissing is everything I remember, and so much more. His breath caresses me, his mouth warm and welcoming. He takes it easy, nibbling across my lips, his thumb stroking my cheek.
When I lean in, the kiss grows more demanding. His body presses against mine. His tongue flicks against my mouth, and I open for him.
His arms come around me as he explores inside. He tastes like mint gum and smells like pine. I couldn’t be more swept away.
