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Sam didn’t utter a word. He stood in the corner next to the record player, while I picked
up my left leg and then my right. I leaned toward the bar, kicking a leg behind me, all the while maintaining my balance on my toes. It was happening. There was stability and balance. I had trust in my body again. I didn’t feel like my right leg was going to snap like a twig. Instead I felt the power in my standing leg as I moved easily from position to position.
I twirled on my toes and bowed at Sam. My heart was about to beat out of my chest, but no longer from fear—from bliss.
“What do you think?” I was practically glowing. I could see it in the mirror.
“I think you’re beautiful and you’ve never been sexier than you are right now.”
I skipped over the room and jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. I kissed him fiercely.
“Thank you for making me lose that stupid football bet.”
He pressed my face between his palms. “I’m happy for you. How’s your leg?”
I lowered myself to the ground and pressed my right toes into the floor. “It feels fine. I can’t believe it feels okay.” I was still stunned.
“Whether you like it or not, all that ass shaking you do with the Goddesses has probably been more therapy than you realized. You have a tight little ass and that means strong hamstrings.”
“I think that’s a compliment.” I smiled slyly at him. He never let me forget how much he enjoyed my body.
“It is most definitely a compliment.”
I pulled on his hand. “Now it’s your turn.”
“Oh no.” His eyes widened with fear. “I don’t dance.”
“Really? Aren’t you the ring leader of the club scene?”
“Have you been cyber stalking me?” He eyed me.
I pinched my fingers together. “Maybe a little bit.”
“That doesn’t mean I dance. It means I party. There’s a difference.”
I wasn’t giving up that easily. The adrenaline was flowing through me. “Dance with me, Sam. Not ballet. But hold me. Dance with me.”
I could see the defeat as his shoulders sagged. “There are no cameras in this studio, are there?”
“No, of course not.”
I placed my hands around his neck as he slipped his palms to the small of my back.
“See? Not so bad.” I ran my hand over his shoulder and the width of his bicep, pulling his grip on my hip so that we were holding hands. I clutched our joined palms at my breast.
The steps were small and the movements were easy, but we moved together with as much perfection as we did in bed. He didn’t give himself credit for how athletic he was. He wouldn’t be able to dive and avoid tackles without agility and the skill of staying light on his toes. I wasn’t going to present it to him like that, but he had his own style of grace.
I pressed up into another relevé, adding several inches to my height. I didn’t say a word as he lifted me from the ground and brought my lips to his as he continued to elevate me into the air. His arms flexed and I looked down into his eyes.
He lowered me slowly, dragging my body over his. I closed my eyes, taking in the solidness of him as I slid to the floor.
“Natalia, come back with me,” he whispered.
The moment felt magical and enchanted. Almost as if we were rehearsing a lovers scene for the stage.
“Can I think about it?” I asked. “Please.”
He pressed his forehead to mine and I heard the vinyl crackle in between songs.
