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“I could ask you the same thing.” The wry look on her face brings a grin to mine. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed riling someone so much.
The wrinkle that forms between Trip’s eyebrows? Gets me. Every time.
“I finished my paper two hours ago.” Her eyebrows shoot up and I shrug with nonchalance, “Procrastination isn’t my style.”
“You mean you’re a nerd.”
“That depends. Are you into nerds?” Trip recoils as if my sexy studying habits are contagious.
“Not where you’re concerned.” I clutch my chest and stumble back, bumping into dancers around us. Trip snickers at my antics.
“WES! IT’S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU!” Stella screams in my direction and I throw two thumbs up in her direction. With a quick wave to the TikTok star, I turn my attention back to Trip.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” I lean back down to her ear, partly so I can smell her shampoo again but mostly so she can hear me over the thumping bass. Which seems to be getting louder. Or maybe I’m getting sober.
“I am dancing.” I narrow my eyes in concentration. Unless she counts the barely visible side shuffle she’s got going on as dancing, I see nothing.
“Sorry, but last time I checked a nervous tick doesn’t count as dancing. You look like you need to pee.” She immediately stops shuffling and puts her hands on her hips.
“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”
“Touché, but wouldn’t you have more fun if you let loose a little?” She mumbles something, ducking her head.
“Sorry gorgeous, I missed that.” The glare returns full force.
“I said, I don’t know how to dance. There. Happy now?” It takes a second for her words to sink in.
“You mean you’ve never gone clubbing before?”
“No, I mean I’ve never danced before. Besides high school gym classes, the whole move-your-body-time-to-the-beat thing is something I’ve never done. Or been taught. Iliterallydo not know how to dance. Especially in an unsupervised setting.”
I pause to do something I’ve never done before: I think before I speak.
Choosing my next words carefully, I throw out a suggestion. “Okay. Between the two of us, we can get through this. Let’s break it down step-by-step.” Grey eyes watch me skeptically.
“First thing is the feet. I want you to step-touch your right foot to your left.” She follows my movements and I feel a strange surge of pride.
“That’s it! Perfect. Now, let’s add a little motion to the upper body. Shoulders, arms, anything you want.” I throw up jazz hands to make her laugh.
The burst of laughter works just as I’d intended, sending a boost of confidence straight to her dance moves. Stiff arms and legs start to move vigorously, and I’m pretty sure I see an attempt at a hip swing. Hard to tell for sure, because her jerky movements are similar to those of a seizure victim, but hey, you can’t expect someone to move like JLo after five minutes.
“Wes, I think I’m getting it! I’m dancing!”
The joy radiating from Trip as she tears up the dance floor with her God-awful moves has me grinning so hard my cheeks ache. There’s nothing better than seeing insecurities fly away and confidence take its place. From rookies on the lacrosse field to girls who’ve never danced before, the real magic happens once we forget to be self-conscious.
“Hey man! Didn’t think I’d be seeing you here tonight.” A hand claps my shoulder and I turn to see Hunter shaking shaggy hair out of his eyes.
He told me the young Justin Bieber look is back in style, but looking at the trendsetter, I’m not so sure. Guy looks more like a golden retriever in need of a haircut than a prepubescent popstar. His pale blue eyes sweep the room, looking glazed and a little confused.
Not going to lie, if it weren’t for his varsity status, Hunter would be a full-on stoner. As it is, he can only smoke for a couple more weekends before our tournament season begins. It’s safe to say Hunter has been making the most of these last few weekends.
“Gotta let out the rookie stress somehow.” My response draws a laugh from Hunter and he turns his attention to the girls. Something tightens in my chest as his gaze passes over Trip, only easing once Hunter’s stare moves to linger on Stella.
The relief in my chest is unfamiliar, the source completely unknown. Either my five minutes of teaching has transformed me into a possessive dance mom, or I was experiencing my first bout of jealousy.
Nah, it was definitely the dance mom theory. When in doubt, always go for the MILF.
Getting momentarily distracted by Stella’s hip control, I don’t notice the other person join our dance squad until Trip speaks up. Well, screams at the top of her lungs is more accurate, but you get my point.
