AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When he passed Scarlett, he winked, and when he sauntered by me, he did the cool-guy chin-nod thing. And if I hadn’t already known he was a movie star and one of America’s most desired men, I would’ve absolutely guessed he was Mr. Popular, the man every dude wished to be and the man every girl wanted, based on posture and swagger alone.
“How do you do that?” I asked in awe.
He paused in front of me. “First, you need to loosen up a little.” He shook me, and I loosened my limbs. “Then you need to keep your eyes and head up.” He guided my chin. “Go ahead and try it.”
I exhaled, then took a few steps, only glancing at the ground once out of habit.
“I mean, it’s better,” he said from behind me.
I reached the wall of my bedroom and turned when he stretched an arm out and tapped underneath my chin again. “Try staring at the wall or wherever you’re headed. Keep it as your focal point for now until holding your head up comes more naturally.”
I went a few more paces.
“There you go. Better. Now stop walking like you have a stick up your ass.”
Beside me, Scarlett and Penelope snickered, so I glared at them as I passed.
“Making eye contact with people now. Even better,” Thorne said with a laugh. “But you’re still stiff.”
With a huff, I did another lap past them.
“Where’s the fire?” he yelled.
I stopped, more than frustrated with the commentary, and I turned around as he shoved Scarlett’s phone in my face. Apparently, she’d been recording me.
“Yikes,” I said, staring wide-eyed at the replay of me walking.
“Right? And that’s the improved version.”
I sighed, and Thorne must’ve sensed I was headed for the utter depths of despair because he grabbed my arm and stepped in front of me. “Here, follow me. Just keep your shoulders back and mimic what I’m doing.”
I studied him a moment, then followed behind.
“Scarlett, how are we doing?” Thorne asked.
“A little better.”
“Pretend like there’s music,” Thorne said. “What’s your favorite song?”
“Um . . .The Way You Look Tonightby Frank Sinatra.”
Thorne stopped abruptly, and I plowed into his back.
“Ow.” I rubbed a hand over my throbbing nose.
“You’re joking, right?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
I shrugged. “What’s wrong with Sinatra? He’s classic, and it’s a good song. My mom used to listen to him growing up.”
She used to dance with me in the living room to all his songs. But I didn’t say that.
“Nothing, it’s just . . .” Thorne scrubbed a hand over his face with an expression so forlorn, I nearly felt sorry for him. “Let me rephrase. What’s your favorite song fromthisdecade?”
“I guess . . .” I wracked my brain. “Imagine Dragons,Radioactive.”
“You went from Sinatra to Imagine Dragons?” he asked with an arched brow. “You know what? Forget it.Radioactive, I can work with.” He slid the phone from his pocket and typed something into it, and after a moment,Radioactivestarted playing. “Come on.” He snapped his fingers and spun around in one swift motion, then began his catwalk again while I followed.
“Listen to the music and the beat and walk to it. Let it sink into your bones. Feel it in your stride. Forget everything else. Forget the kids at school. No one’s watching you. Just walk to the beat. Don’t dance. Don’t sway. Walk. With swagger.”
