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Just like that, Robin was back in.

‘A Robin date,’ Robin murmured, taking a lavish sip of her drink and flashing Sienna a mischievous grin. ‘Hope you’ve got some rhythm, Vance. I am definitely not losing this one.’

Seventeen

Sienna stood on the hardwood floor of Studio Havana, staring at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors like she was bracing for an impact.

She was hyper-aware of the small battery pack clipped to the back of her waistband, the thin wire snaking under her silk blouse to the mic tucked near her collarbone. Every embarrassed sigh recorded in high-definition audio for the next episode drop.

She had spent three hours the previous evening reading up on salsa mechanics, trying to prepare herself. She understood the basic structure: a four-beat rhythm, a quick-quick-slow tempo, weight transferring on one, two, and three, holding on four. If you could count to four, it should be simple.

The door to the studio banged open and in Robin came. Sienna was annoyed immediately. Robin hadn’t even attempted to dress for the activity: her outfit gave not so much as a nod to it. She was wearing her usual faded band tee, beat-up jeans, and vintage yellow leather jacket. Her hair wasn’t even done up, her blonde waves ready to catch sweat and tangles with zero fucks given.

Sienna, on the other hand, had spent forty-five minutes carefully assembling an outfit that struck a balance between tailoring and flexibility. Because if she was going to be publicly dragged onto a dance floor, she was bloody well going to look exceptional while doing it.

Now she felt overdressed.

‘Ready to move, Vance?’ Robin asked, strolling over as she took off her jacket and flung it on the floor nearby.

‘It’s just rhythm and footwork, Robin,’ Sienna replied.

Their instructor, Elena—a tiny Cuban woman with sharp eyes—clapped her hands loudly, walking between them. ‘Alright, ladies! Enough standing around. Neither of you knows how to salsa, so we start from scratch. One leads, one follows. Close physical contact is vital if you want to stay in balance.’

‘Can I lead?’ Robin asked.

Sienna treated herself to an eye roll. Mic couldn’t catch that, could it?

Elena quickly demonstrated the footwork, calling out the counts. Robin nodded along, her usual effortless swagger faltering as she tried to follow.

‘I thought you were gonna sail through this,’ Sienna couldn’t help saying.

‘It’s more structure than I’m used to,’ Robin grumbled quietly.

‘Okay! Robin, take your lead position,’ Elena instructed. ‘Sienna, into her frame.’

Sienna’s throat went dry. ‘And that thing you said before? About close contact? Is that strictly—’

Robin stepped directly into Sienna’s space before she could finish the sentence. She reached out and placed her right hand on the small of Sienna’s back, right above her waist, taking Sienna’s right hand in her left.

Sienna locked up instantly.

‘Christ,’ Robin murmured, her blue eyes locking onto Sienna’s. She took Sienna’s right hand in hers, interlacing their fingers. ‘Would you unclench? I’m trying to figure out the footing here too.’

‘It’s just good posture,’ Sienna managed as Robin’s hand pressed against her lower back, drawing their bodies within a few inches of each other.

‘Tangoing with a brick wall,’ Robin muttered softly.

‘Together now!’ Elena called out. ‘Listen to the music.’ She pressed play on the sound system, and a bassy salsa track banged out of it. ‘Count with me. One, two, three... hold four.’

Robin stepped forward on beat one. Sienna stepped back, listening carefully to the count. But she overdid it, her heel catching the floor as she tried to keep a boundary between their hips.

She stumbled backwards. Robin’s hand on her back quickly tightened, her arm catching Sienna’s weight and pulling her flush against Robin’s chest to keep her from hitting the floor.

Sienna gasped directly into her lapel mic as her free hand came up to rest flat against Robin’s shoulder for stability. The contact was jarring. Sienna could feel the rapid beat of Robin’s heart beneath her cotton tee.

‘Got you,’ Robin muttered, a smile sliding onto her face, which was inches from Sienna’s.

‘You don’t need to,’ Sienna said, though her voice lacked any real bite. Her gaze slipped powerlessly to Robin’s lips before she forced her eyes back up.