Page 20 of Every Time We Touch

“Not by a long stretch. My dad’s a neurologist who does research on coma patients and my mom’s a geriatric specialist.” Every single time I say it, it sounds like such a downer, but my parents’ professions have had the opposite effect on me. Because of what they do, and what they’ve witnessed on a daily basis at work—the fragility of life and the inevitability of death—they’ve always taught me, above anything else, to do what I love. And I love to dance more than anything in this world. “Well, they used to be. They’re both retired and both remarried to someone else.”

“Is your dad’s new wife not making him take dance lessons?” Jen asks and, in the process, abruptly reminds me of the nature of our relationship. Somehow, being with his daughter makes me forget about Eric entirely.

“They’re too busy trying to make a baby,” I blurt out, then shake my head.

“Your mom’s not remarried to another woman, is she?” Jen asks. “That would be too… weird.”

“Nah. Her new husband is even age-appropriate,” I joke. “What about you?” I ask as a preemptive strike—because I don’t want our conversation to meander to my dating her father. I’m also genuinely curious. “Is that why you’re working on your self-esteem?”

“Here I was thinking this was dance class,” Jennifer says. “As opposed to therapy.”

“Dance can be therapeutic,” I say.

“I’m sure, but is there supposed to be so much talking?” She locks her gaze on mine again.

“Nope. Come on.” I jump out of my chair. “How about some music this time?”

“Let me guess,” Jennifer says. “You have Izzy and Lana’s duet neatly queued up.” She slants her head and her eyes are chock-full of the most delicious defiance.

“Great minds and all that.” I make light of it but it’s also quite scary to be such an open book to someone I only met about ten days ago.

Chapter 11

Jen

“Did you see The Lady Kings’ reunion tour?” I ask Clancy, because I need a break from this. From dancing with her. From having her body in my personal space for dancing to a song called “I Should Have Kissed You” over and over.

I walk away from her and turn my back. My eyes need a break from seeing her as well. I happen to have a thing for women with pronounced muscles and wide shoulder lines. It’s why, after only two sessions with Marcy, I was far more interested in dating her than doing burpees at her command. This is beginning to remind me of that, except that Clancy’s dating my dad.

“Fuck yeah. At the Hollywood Bowl,” Clancy says. “When Lana invited Cleo Palmer to the stage to sing this duet with her.”

Maybe this wasn’t the best topic of conversation. As irreplaceable as Isabel Adler is, Lana and Cleo performing this song together—the same song we’ve danced a very rudimentary, but a tango nonetheless, to five times now—was the epitome of sexy.

“They’ve been a couple ever since that tour,” Clancy says. “After seeing them on stage together, it’s easy enough to see why.”

I barely register what she’s saying. My mind is stuck on what she said earlier. I can’t believe she urged me to wear shorts next time—or how hot she looks in the ones she has zero qualms about wearing. Her thighs might as well be sculpted out of the smoothest marble and the⁠—

“Jen?”

“Sorry. Yeah.” I make a show of inhaling deeply. “Just catching my breath.” I take a few small sips from my water bottle, just to prolong my break—although a part of me can’t wait to be in hold with her again.

I just committed to ten lessons. I literally just signed the papers. I’m not so sure I should be taking classes with Clancy anymore, but I can hardly tell her it’s because I think she’s too hot. I tell myself to get a grip. I’m seeing my dad later. That should help.

“You have a lot of natural ability,” Clancy says. “You also feel the music beautifully. Trust me, that’s not the case with everyone.”

“Thanks.” Oh, god. Compliments. I might need to be carried out on a stretcher. “You’re not just saying that because⁠—”

“Because you’re Eric’s daughter?” She inclines her head as if to say, ‘Who do you take me for?’

“Yeah.”

“No, Jen.” Her gaze lingers. “Can I call you Jen?”

“Everyone else does.”

Clancy looks at the clock. “Your stamina’s not as bad as you thought it was either. To do this for two hours straight is also not for everyone.”

I make a show of fanning my face. “Stop already.”