Chapter 26: Josh
In the interest of friendship, I probably shouldn't have said that. On the other hand, watching her dance, uninhibited and free, didthingsto me. Then, when she put her hands on my back to help me stretch, it was all I could do not to flip her over my shoulder and take her right there.
Well, it was easy not to do that because it's not like I'm athletic or coordinated or a caveman. But thedesirewas there.
"Josh," she says, her voice small.
"I don't wanna be friends. I don't wanna do this anymore." I never did. Not from the moment I met her. I always wanted more. Everything else in my life is coming together. Why not take a shot at this?
"Oh." Her mouth closes abruptly. She finishes tying her shoes and stands up, moving to the far end of the studio. I scramble to my feet to chase her.
"No, it's not what you think." I run my hand through my hair, trying to say something—anything—that won't make me sound like an idiot. "You'll never be just a friend to me, Les. You never were. From the first moment I saw you, I was a goner."
She's still facing away. I place my hands on her shoulders and feel her stiffen under my touch. "I know you're not ready, and I'll do my best to be patient, but I can't lie and say what I feel for you is only friendship."
Leslie turns. "I don't want you as a friend either. It seems disrespectful to say it because what I feel for you is so much deeper. But I think we need to take it slow. I'm still a hot mess express, and you've been mad at me for a decade. All that doesn't go away because I want to rip your clothes off and climb you like a tree."
I burst out laughing at her analogy. "You want towhat?"
She pushes me gently. "Like you haven't been thinking and remembering the sexy times."
I push her hair back behind her ear. Its corkscrew curls are free right now, a change from her normal, constrained style. It's amazing. "Of course I have. It's what's been driving me mad. Do you know how hard it is to stay angry when I'm having all these otherthoughts?"
She leans in, pressing her abdomen to mine but keeping distance between our faces. "Tell me, Josh, what kind of thoughts?"
I brush her hair back on the other side. My hands remain on either side of her face, cradling her head gently. "I think they require a demonstration rather than an explanation."
I kiss her, our mouths hungry for each other.
This time, there's no holding back.
Well, except for the fact that she's wearing her special dance shoes. I only become aware of this when she rises up on her toes and suddenly is taller than me.
"What the—" I lookupat her.
Leslie laughs. "Sorry, habit. Let me take these off so we can … you know." She jerks her head toward the door.
With a swiftness of fingers that rivals Jerry Lee Lewis on the keyboard, she's untied her shoes and removed all of the taping and padding that was underneath. I'm not kidding—it was about thirty seconds flat. It was like a pit crew changing tires, only with satin ribbons and weird pouches.
"How did you do that so fast?"
She tosses her shoes in her bag and is on her feet, grabbing my hand. "Never underestimate a dancer's ability to do a quick change. One time, I had ninety seconds to totally change costumes and get my pointe shoes on in between two dances. I did it with ten seconds to spare each night."
I look her up and down, leggings and a cropped T-shirt with a sports bra peeking out. "So if you can get undressed and redressed that quickly, how long until I can get you out of those clothes?"
We're hitting the muggy night air. "We've already established that I can most likely outrun you. I could be naked before you get to your room."
"My room?"
"Unless you want Amy to join us, yes, your room. Wanna race?"
I don't even say anything before taking off in a dead sprint up the hill. We get to the door about the same time, bumping and squeezing as we both try to pass through. I yield an inch, and she squeaks past me.
"What's the big rush? It's not like you can start without me," I tease.
One foot on the stairs, hands on both railings, Leslie looks over her shoulder and raises an eyebrow. "Oh can't I?"
I bite my lip, knowing all the good things she has in store for me. With a speed not many musicians possess, I catch up to her at the top of the stairs, our bodies colliding with each other and then the wall. Leaning in, I grab her wrists, pinning her arms above her head. "Got ya." And then my mouth is on hers again. I trail down, kissing her jaw and her neck before working my way back up to that luscious mouth.
