Page 23 of Sway

Time to go live. Dolla and I duck through the curtains to the voiceover: “Dancing the mambo, C. Dolla and his partner Salomé Sanchez.” It’s showtime, baby!

Dolla twirls me around and I’m on fire. “Mambo #5” starts playing and Dolla is doing his best Ricky Ricardo impression. I made a fun routine with a lot of basic actions to please Benny. Dolla starts moving his hips and I shimmy around him, sloshing the matching citrus-colored fringe of my two-piece dress. I swivel in front of him and he shakes his chest. The crowd roars and I’m on fire. Their energy ripples through my body. Dolla leads me into my signature move, ten turns in a circle around him, as I throw my head back. Dolla and I crash our hips together and roll off each other, never losing eye contact. He spins me into him and dips me to the ground. Boo-yah, brotha!

The audience simultaneously stands up and claps wildly.

“The ballroom is on fire tonight,” Matt says. “That is how it’s done.”

Dolla gives me kiss on the forehead. “Salomé, you, my girl, are a queen.”

We rush backstage and wait for our scores. The judges give us straight nines! A twenty-seven for our first show. Can this night get any better?

A costume assistant comes out of nowhere, pulls me behind the red room, and starts ripping off my clothes. I almost forgot I have to do that demonstration with Genya. Last week, Gabriel choreographed a rumba for us. We got it down on the first try because Genya and I blend perfectly together, like whey powder and ice in those damn protein shakes I’m drinking. I was actually bummed we picked it up so fast because then I didn’t have an excuse to practice again with him, alone. The makeup girl starts powdering my abs and chest. She presses on another pair of lashes and before I can blink they throw me back on stage.

“Now ladies and gentlemen,” Matt says. “We’re going to start with a rumba demonstration from season sixteen winner Dmitri Pavlov and one of our newest professionals, Salomé Sanchez.”

The band starts playing one of my all-time favorite rumba songs, “Mi Vida Sin Tu Amor” by Christian Castro. Mi abuela is sitting in the front row, totally losing it. She took me to my first dance lesson and adores this song. I picked it just for her. I’m so happy she came tonight. My parents and my older sister Ruby told me they’d try to make it but cancelled at the last minute. I wish I can say I was surprised, but they haven’t watched me dance in years.

Genya creeps up behind me and grabs my arm. We slide into our rumba, with him pulling me to his chest. His white, billowy shirt is completely unbuttoned, showing off his freshly waxed chest and perfect pecs. I caress his neck and just give my body over to his. He grasps my waist and presses me into him. It feels like we never stopped dancing. But it’s even better than I remember. The tension between us is electric. I crave him. I run away from him and tease him with fleeting views of my inner thighs. The song starts to taper and he takes me into his arms. When the lights die down and the stage is completely dark, he gives me a tender kiss on the lips.

Holy shit!

The lights come back on and crowd erupts. Did he really just kiss me? No one saw, for sure. I’m in Genya’s arms, mi abuela is bawling her eyes out in the front row and hugging Vika’s babushka, who is bawling, too!

Just like old times.