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I seriously can’t help the way my heart spasms as I continue watching her dance. She’s unbelievably graceful. The way she’s able to move and contort her body almost defies logic. The music comes to a close and I almost clap my hands together when a man suddenly begins speaking.
“That was very good, Ivy… very good. But there is still room for improvement. You need to extend your lines on your Jeté entrelacé.”
Emerging from the shadows where I couldn’t see him before, he moves towards Ivy, who now stands in the middle of the room. She looks as though she’s breathing hard. Her arms are settled on her narrow hips as she watches him. And just like the posters and photos lining the corridor, this guy is muscular in a way that isn’t bulky.
“Attitude devant.”
Right away, Ivy goes up onto the toe of one foot while elevating her other leg about waist high but bent at the knee. Her other arm is raised above her head. She holds the position as the dude… I’m guessing her professor, runs his hand slowly over the muscles of her rigidly held leg.
“Remember not to overextend.” Moving her leg just a fraction, he then holds it in place. “See? Better. Much better.”
As his hand falls away, I realize my entire body has tensed. He gives her a few more instructions before sauntering back into the shadows of the room where I can no longer see him. Ivy goes to her toes before extending her arm over her head and lifting her leg again in the same position as before.
“Perfect,” he calls out. She breaks the pose before throwing a smile in his direction.
I can’t help but clear my throat. Even though she’s not facing me, her eyes arrow immediately to my reflection in the mirror. Holding up a hand, I give her a hesitant wave. Her whole face breaks into a gorgeous smile and I can’t help the little shiver that slides its way through me.
Holy shit.
I’m in deep with this girl.
I almost snort because that is such a pussy understatement to make. Meeting Ivy has been like being hit with a two by four across the back of my skull. And I’ve been trying to shake my head clear ever since.
With an amazing amount of polish, she pads over to me before reaching up on her toes to give me a quick kiss on the lips. I want nothing more than to haul her close but I’m all too aware of the guy watching us from the corner of the room. My eyes slice to his. I have to admit, he doesn’t look particularly interested in what we’re doing. Although there’s a hint of amusement on his face.
“Just let me grab my bag and we can take off.”
I give her a quick nod before she runs over to the mirrored wall where her bag is lying on the wooden floor. She gives the guy, who honestly doesn’t look more than twenty-eight, a quick wave before saying, “Thanks so much for the help, Eric.”
“Anytime. You have amazing potential. You just need to keep working at it.”
She gives him another grin and I find I’m almost jealous that he’s able to coax a smile like that so easily from her. Which is totally ridiculous, I know. Trust me, I know it is. The funny thing is that I’ve never felt this way about a girl before. Protective. Jealous. Needy. I’ve never really allowed myself to develop these kinds of feelings.
But there’s something about Ivy. Right from the start she was different from almost everyone else I’d ever met before. I like the way she makes me feel when I’m with her.
“I will, thanks again.”
Taking the bag from her, I sling it over my shoulder before grabbing her fingers with my own. She gives me another smile as we walk through the echoing corridor.
“You have a good day?”
Something flickers in her gaze before her smile brightens. “Yep. How about you?”
“Better now.” Unable to resist, I pull her towards me, hugging her lithe body close to mine. I realize my day has actually improved now that I’m finally seeing her beautiful face. And being able to watch her in that leotard certainly doesn’t hurt either.
As we leave the fine arts building, even though I’m not necessarily jealous, I can’t help but ask, “So, that guy back there, he’s gay… right?”
She laughs and the deep throaty sound of it has the edges of my lips tipping upward in response.
With a sly look in her eyes, she asks, “Will it make you feel better if I say yes?”
She’s kidding, right? Of course it will. “Definitely.”
“Then yes, he’s totally gay.” Her shoulders shake with silent laughter.
My eyes narrow as I continue watching her. “So what you’re really telling me is that he’s not gay at all.”
