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We stood and I slipped out of my blazer before holding my hand out to him. We walked hand in hand onto a clear area of the dance floor close to our table.
“You’re the guy, so unfortunately, I can’t teach you to lead. But hopefully you’ll get the idea and pick it up. Watch everyone around us. The secret is to keep the movements mostly in your hips. If your hips are leading the movement, you can’t go wrong.”
We were standing face to face, and I grabbed his hands. Did he notice the electricity move through us, or was it my imagination? Whatever, focus, I told myself.
“Get a feel for the music and loosen up. Have fun with it. I take my cues from you, and I kind of mirror your moves. First you’ll step forward with your left foot as I step backwards with my right. Then step back to the center where you started.” I stepped backward and pulled him forward so he could step into the move, and we stepped together back to the center.
“Now you’ll step backward with your right foot while I step forward with my left, and then back,” and we did.
“Let’s repeat that a few times until you feel comfortable with it, and remember, move your hips. Make it sexy. Your hands should always either be holding my hands or holding my body.”
They didn’t get the term Latin Lover out of nowhere. These Latin dances were pretty sexy.
He smiled through the mini lesson and followed the directions, sometimes looking around to see what others were doing.
“Now for the turns. When you spin me, keep a light hold on my hand or my hands so that we don’t get all tangled up but we also don’t lose contact.” I spun myself once to demonstrate. “When you spin, I’m always going to keep my hand touching your body in some way, so that you know exactly where to reach for me as I come around you.”
Dylan attempted spins a few times, and I had to admit he was really good at it. He was a natural, and he caught on quick.
“Are you ready for the real deal now? Let’s put it all together,” I said, not willing to take no for an answer.
“Okay, yeah.” His smile spread across his whole face as he took the lead now and showed off his new skills.
I could tell he was having fun, so after a couple of songs, I told him, “Let’s take a rest and get another drink so you can ask someone else to dance now.”
He seemed like he was about to protest, but then agreed. We walked to the bar to get new drinks and went back to our table in the corner where my blazer and clutch served as our table reserved sign.
One of the girls we had seen dancing earlier with her friend was standing alone beside another table after a few minutes, so I told him his opportunity was there for the taking. He stood up, gave me a mischievous eyebrow raise, and walked over to the girl to request a dance.
I sat with my drink and watched Dylan and all the other dancing figures. I thought he must have a natural athletic ability, because he had really picked up the dance moves in no time and seemed so at ease.
After a few songs, I could see the girl take his hand and walk off the dance floor. She was obviously impressed with his dance skills, and probably that gorgeous face that went along with the nice build of his body.
They carried on a short conversation across the room before he pulled out his phone and entered her phone number. He took her hand and gave her one more twirl before turning and heading back over to the table I was still sitting at.
“She seemed nice,” I half-said and half-asked.
“Yeah, I think so. Looks like maybe you know what you’re talking about after all, huh?”
“We’ll see. Don’t just settle for the first girl you meet. You see where that’s gotten you so far.”
Dylan danced with a few more girls, and saved a few more dances for me before the night was over. Just before we left, I accepted a dance from an attractive guy with a thick Spanish accent. He mentioned he was Cubano, and loved to come dancing here when he was in town visiting. Dylan conveniently cut in at the end of the first song I danced with Mr. Cubano and mentioned he was about ready to call it a night.
Fair enough. He had spent hours at soccer practice before coming out for a full night of dancing.
We stood outside waiting for a cab.
“Aren’t you cold?” I asked, noticing he wasn’t wearing a jacket.
“No, I run hot most of the time. It feels good out here after dancing the past couple of hours,” he replied.
When a cab arrived, he held the door open for me and climbed in behind me.
“I don’t think you live far from me. I’ll have the cabbie drop you off first and I’ll pay the cab fare if that sounds good to you,” he offered.
“Okay, that would be great. Thank you.”
We rode in tired but comfortable silence for a while. As we neared my apartment building, he finally spoke.
