Page 78 of The Dixon Rule

“What are you doing in here? I’ve been hearing you move around all morning.”

“I’m practicing some choreography I want to teach the kids tomorrow.”

“Have you found a ballroom dance partner yet?”

“No,” she says glumly.

“That’s not true.” I tip my head at her, grinning. “You have.”

Diana narrows her eyes. Well, her other eye. The left one was already squinty thanks to the swelling.

“I just got off the phone with Lynsey. She told me I’m exhibiting great maturity and growth by entering this dance competition. So…” I shrug. “If you want me, I’m yours.”

For the first time since I moved in next door, a huge, genuine smile—one that’s directed at me—stretches across her face.

“Are you for real?”

“Yep. Let’s dance, Dixon.”

Diana once again shocks me—she steps forward and wraps her arms around my waist. Pressing the non-injured side of her face against my chest, she hugs me tightly. I’m so stunned, I stand there with my arms dangling at my sides.

“Thank you,” she says softly. “I really needed this.”

I don’t know if she’s talking about the dancing or the hug or something entirely different altogether, but the way her voice catches elicits a pang of concern.

I force myself to shrug it off because I know Diana and how prickly she gets when you poke too hard into her business.

So I merely return the hug and say, “We’re going to crush this thing.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

DIANA

A fading nightmare

“ALL RIGHT, MAJESTIC EAGLES,” I ANNOUNCE. “LET’S RUN THROUGH THESE jumps one last time and then we’ll call it a day, okay?”

As Fatima and I count them in, the girls spring to action, giving it their all. Toe touches have been tough for some of them, particularly Chloe and Harper. They can get their legs up but not out, or vice versa.

“Why is my toe touch so low?” Chloe whines after she lands. Her forehead is shiny from exertion.

I walk over to her. “Because your legs aren’t far apart enough. The farther apart you can get them, the higher your touches will be. This is why we keep harping to you about stretching. Gotta get that flexibility started young.”

Fatima claps her hands. “Let’s do the tuck jumps.”

“Tuck jumps are so boring,” Harper grumbles.

“They’re great for the core,” I tell the group, patting my abdomen. “Tumblers—” I glance at Tatiana and Kerry, our strongest gymnasts. “You guys in particular need to practice your tuck jumps. The more core strength you can build, the stronger tumblers you’ll become.”

We work on the final set of jumps, and everyone is smiling and sweaty when we dismiss them. The girls stream toward the locker room while Fatima tails after them.

“You coming?” she calls over her shoulder.

“It’s my turn to put away the mats,” I call back.

“Cool. If I’m gone before you’re done, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The moment the gym is empty, my smile collapses like a cheap tent.

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