Page 40 of You're the Reason

She met his gaze in the mirror, then pointed to her sides. Suddenly, want and need seemed to be blurring together in her mind. No, this was just like working with Tony—professional. “Place your hands here.”

His hands hesitated about a foot away, then settled onto her middle, the warmth of his fingers soaking through her leotard. Each point of contact filling her with the desire to sink into him. Maybe a little different than when she danced with Tony.

“Now, as I lift on pointe”—she drew a slow breath, willing her pulse to even out—“you just have to keep me balanced upright.”

Grace lifted her leg, poured all her focus into her balance and not the hands supporting her or the way his breath eased across her neck. The supporter normally left a little more space between them, but right now she had no desire to correct him.

She did it two or three times before making eye contact with him again in the mirror. She’d been ready to offer a correction, but the intensity of his dark eyes stole every thought from her head. This was definitely different than dancing with Tony.

“Perfect.” She cleared her throat and lowered her gaze. “This time when I lift, you will walk in a circle, and I will turn on my toe.”

“That sounds simple enough. How big of a circle?”

“Whatever seems right.” She’d never paid attention to the male role before.

She lifted her leg and he started walking in a circle, but she tipped to the side. He caught her just as her toe slipped on the black Marley floor. “Sorry.”

She got her feet under her and righted herself. She refused to think more on how easily he’d caught her. “Maybe we should try that again. Don’t watch the floor. Stand to the side slightly and lock on my eyes, and that will help you adjust as needed.”

His gaze lingered on her for a moment before he looked away, his expression tortured. “Maybe this isn’t?—”

“One more try. Please.” Maybe she should have let it end there, but she needed this move.

He nodded and assumed the position, holding her slightly to his right side. Her arms lifted, and her gaze moved from the mirror to him over her shoulder. Their faces just inches apart. He took a few steps, and when she didn’t tip or sway, his tortured expression gave way to the molten eyes from a few moments ago. She couldn’t quite interpret what it meant, but it made her want to stay like this for a long time.

When they made the full circle, she dropped her leg, but her head remained turned. “Perfect.”

His eyes traveled over her face, stopping on her mouth for a half second before he took a hasty step back and dropped his hands. “You good then?”

No. She was definitely not good. She might never be good again after that. Were they done? Maybe they should be, but she had one more move she needed to practice. “The final one is a little more complicated.”

“I’m not sure I can do more complicated than that.” His voice was so low it was almost a rumble.

“Hands, same place. But this time hold me loosely because I will spin in your hands.”

His hands rested on her waist for a moment. “Here?”

“Yes.” But truth was, she hadn’t looked. Which was obvious the moment she lifted into a basic pirouette. He stood way too close, and she spun right into his chest.

She’d collided with a fair number of partners over the years—which was always awkward and painful—but both dancers moved on without missing a beat.

But here she stood with her face pressed against Seth’s chest, and she couldn’t seem to make herself step back. Leaning against him felt so natural, right. His hands that hung loosely around her waist slowly moved toward her back. Each finger seemed to leave a trail of fire behind.

She began to contemplate if spontaneous combustion was really a thing when a ringtone she didn’t recognize filled the space. Seth jerked back and retreated about three feet as he pulled the phone from his pocket, scanned it over, then returned it.

“So, you’re good?” His eyes darted around the room as he inched toward the door.

He finally looked at her and when she offered the slightest nod, he practically flew out the door.

What was that?

“You have a crush.”

Mallory’s words came back. Crush suddenly didn’t seem an adequate description for the unfamiliar desire, or passion, or, okay... inferno he ignited in her. Oh no. What was she going to do now? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Because her focus had to be Chicago and no man—not even a handsome, sweet, gentle, kind, crush from her past—was going to sway that.

eight

Seth had a limited time if he was going to get his full workout in before he met Jon. But the two kids Nate had dragged here with him were determined to slow the process down. Seth did another ten reps on the bench press, trying to ignore the way the bar dug into his palms as well as the junior high laughter that echoed in the room. He didn’t want to know.

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