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“Don’t be,” he said. “Imagine me in my underwear, if that helps.” Evan teased, sitting on the sofa. He leaned back and stretched his muscular arms along the edge of the sofa.
That definitely doesn’t help,she thought.
Imagining him naked made her stomach flip like pancakes. Aria closed her eyes and tried to find that secret place in her mind where she compartmentalized all her pain. It was only her, Evan, and the music now.
He stared at her as she swayed her body side to side, motioning into a full spin, rotating on one foot, like a ballerina. She reached out for something in front of her, as if she were longing to hold someone she could never have: an invisible man, a ghostly lover. The piano melody in the song was touching; it made her tear up. Losing herself in the music, Aria visualizedevery bandaged wound on her body before she opened them one by one, allowing the blood to flow. Contemporary dance was a healing medium, allowing the dancer to move their energy to release emotional traumas; Aria’s fluid movement reflected this. Arching her back, she raised her arms in the air and leaned forward, stretching her leg back in the second arabesque position. With her arms extended in front of her, she slid one leg into the second ballet position, twisting her body in afouette.
Captivated by her flexibility, Evan watched her pirouette around the floor. When Aria slowed her spin, he noticed dark tear tracks down her cheeks. While her eyes were still closed, he stood up and walked around her.
Aria was lost in the music. With a heavy chest, she sifted through painful memories without Noah. Abandoned and alone, she had grown up never knowing what a father’s love truly was.
She danced her heart out like a lost soul doomed in limbo. No matter how she gracefully moved her body, no matter how much she prayed and yearned for him to hold her, he would never come back. She felt alone with her sorrows. Aria welcomed those feelings and allowed them to be the driving force that influenced her choreography, which made her performance so believable. Twirling like a spinning top, she slowed down and opened her eyes to see an empty sofa across from her.
Where’d he go?
Blinking in confusion, she felt a powerful pair of arms envelop her waist. Her heart fluttered when he lifted her, sliding his hand underneath her thigh. Evan coaxed her body forward in a fish dive as she bent her leg into aparallel passé. Using her strength, she pulled herself upright before she arched her back against his chest. He gently let her body slip out of his grasp while sliding his hands around her waist. Tightening his grip, Evan lifted her on his right shoulder in a shoulder-sit position. Like a flower blooming, she raised her arms and opened them.
Balancing her weight, Aria curved her back over his shoulder, as if she were taking her last breath. Evan held her firmly and spun her body while her hair whipped around. The story in Aria’s mind had magically taken a new twist. The depressing tale of the abandoned young woman was now rewritten: a mysterious man had seen her dancing in a crowd, but no one noticed her. She was invisible to everyone but that man. He was her masculine mirror who embodied her shadow side, the rejected aspects of self.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she envisioned the story unfolding. The man who had seen her was a soldier who had returned home, burdened by haunting memories. All his pain was forgotten when he saw that beautiful girl dancing in the street. Their fingers interlocked when he approached her from behind and lifted her body as if she were light as a feather. He slid her down his shoulder with ease, hugging her to his chest. Evan had a healing touch, if only in that moment, that balanced music and fantasy. If the Italian choreographer Bruno Tonioli had seen their dance, he might have commented about how the pair had stunningly portrayed “oneness” through the art of dance.
Evan entwined his fingers through Aria’s and lifted her up again. She stretched her legs into the splits, tightening her calf muscles and holding that position while he rotated her in a full turn. Still buzzing, she felt like she was flying every time Evan lifted her. A part of her never wanted the song to end. He had taken one of her most painful memories and transformed it into something beautiful. The pain had faded. Aria no longer felt abandoned and forgotten. When the song finished, Evan lowered her down, feeling her soft breasts brush against his chest. She gave him goosebumps, which never happened when other women touched him.
“You never told me you have a dance background!”
“My mum forced me to take a bit of ballroom when I was younger. I hated it at first, but changed my mind when girls fancied me more.”
“Of course.” Aria laughed.
The energy between them had shifted, and they were aware of it.
“You dance exquisitely, Aria. I’m glad I was lucky enough to watch you tonight.”
“You pleasantly surprised me.”
His tone sounded low and seductive as he said, “I’m full of surprises.”
She felt a thrilling pull in the pit of her stomach when he gently caressed her hip. His touch had aroused her. Feeling conflicted, she withdrew from him.
“I guess I’m crashing here tonight?”
“You guessed right.” Evan sauntered to the coffee table and carried their empty mugs to the kitchen.
When he returned, Aria flashed a timid smile and said, “Thanks for the tea—it helped.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I guess we better go to bed then.”
“I guess so.” He grinned, sensing her nervousness.
“Where exactly will I be sleeping?”
In my bed—naked,he wished.
“I have a guestroom. Everything you need is in there. Unfortunately, I don’t have any PJs for you, love.”
“Oh. That’s fine.”
