Page 61 of Harper's Holiday Romance
“Yes, come on. You can do it.” She placed my hand in Julia’s and encouraged my movement from behind.
“Like this.” She pushed my left hip forwards, then pulled back and repeated the same guidance with my right. I felt like Baby inDirty Dancingduring the “Hungry Eyes” dance scene, except there was no complaint of spaghetti arms from Julia.
The singer’s projection carried through the air with immense control. Julia’s palm landed in the centre of my back and pulled me closer. I draped my arm over her shoulder where it felt most comfortable. Our unoccupied arms found each other, elbows bent, palm to palm, following the lead of the instructors. Julia slowly began to guide my body in the direction she was moving, almost like she’d done this before.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” I looked around nervously. Billie and Sarah were too busy getting another drink to notice the intimacy.
“Have you ever danced Latin before?” Julia asked.
“No. Never.”
“It’s really simple.” Julia leaned closer. I felt her breath warm against my neck. “It’s left four beats and then right four beats. Follow my lead.”
As Julia stepped forwards, I stepped back. It didn’t take me long to coordinate, and we quickly fell into the rhythm.
“You’ve done this before,” I observed.
“Once or twice.” We stepped back three beats; on the fourth, Julia popped her hip. We moved forwards three and she did the same on the fourth. This time I allowed my hip to relax, and our bodies started to simulate a swaying motion. By the second song, I was twisting my body, bending my knees, and moving my hips like a Latin ballroom dancer—kind of.
“I can’t believe you’re a secret dancer.”
“Not quite.” She stumbled backwards, and her feet colliding with mine. She threw her head back; a small laugh broke free. I dropped my hand down from her shoulder to her waist as the music slowed once again. She gripped my back, and closed the last millimetre of space between us. I could feel her stomach exhale. I could feel her legs tense against mine as her thighs tightened with every pop.
Julia’s gaze fell to my mouth. It lingered there for a moment. Her ocean blue eyes twinkled in the light, and I saw them for the first time. The depth. The warmth. The kindness.
“I could swim in your eyes,” I whispered.
Julia looked to the left; was she blushing? There was a pink undercoat pushing through her bronzed cheeks; I was sure of it.
“Thank you.”
“Sorry, I can’t seem to say anything normal around you,” I admitted.
“Do I make you nervous?” Julia asked.
My fingers gripped the waistband of her trousers, tugging at her hip each time she moved towards me.
“Yes,” I mouthed. The words didn’t form. Her lips were so close to my ear now. Her hair glided past my nose with the scent of products unknown to me but welcomed. I didn’t want the dance to end. I wanted the mariachi band to play all night long, for the other guests to disappear, and the moment in time to be ours, and ours alone.
“You... also... make me really nervous.” Julia sighed. Her lips must’ve been a millimetre away. Her breath moved its way down to my neck.
“Yeah?” I closed my eyes and allowed the rhythm of the music to teach my feet. Julia’s obvious knowledge of the dance allowed me to relax as I continued to let her take the lead.
“Can I—”
“Yes,” I whispered.
Kiss me.Please just kiss me. My whole body screamed.
Julia brushed her lips against my neck, and then she kissed me. I could still taste the fresh tequila on her lips. Suddenly, I didn’t hate it anymore. My hand moved from her waistband up to her neck, fingers tangling with her hair. Her tongue found its rhythm with ease, matching the movement of my own, until the synchronization reached an Olympic level, and I was all but cheering in the bleachers.
The music had stopped. I couldn’t recall when, but we were dancing to our own song as our lips parted.
“Wow.” I bit down on my bottom lip.
“Yeah, wow.” Julia’s forehead leant against mine. She didn’t pull away immediately, but we stopped dancing and snapped back to the moment.
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