Page 12 of Love In The Air

Chance glanced over to see Darnell and Tori had found a couple of willing dance partners and were currently gyrating to the beat of the music. If the smiles on their faces were any indication, they were having a great time.

“Ha! They call that dancing,” Iz scoffed. “I bet we could dance circles around them.”

There was the Iz he knew, always making things a competition. Only this time it appeared she wanted him with her instead of against her. Could they be forming a friendship? Something he never in a million years thought was possible.

“Oh, we would crush them,” he agreed, his competitive drive revving up. “Shall we?”

He held out his hand to her. Iz placed her palm in his. That same tiny shock he felt the other day raced up his arm. He’d assumed it was static from all the equipment in the studio, but clearly it hadn’t been. It was Iz.

Ignoring whatever the hell that meant, he pulled her onto the dance floor.

“Holy shit, they’re actually here,” Darnell said, in shock.

“Don’t get too excited,” Tori said, spinning her partner into her arms. “Knowing these two, they’re probably trying to show us up.”

Their friends knew them well, but as the music played and the people around them moved, Chance soon found himself not caring about anything but keeping that bright smile on Iz’s face. She twirled around him, moving with him to the beat of the music. Their hands intertwined as they moved around on the dance floor.

It was strange seeing her let loose like this. Even odder was the freedom he felt bubbling up inside him. As they danced, he found himself so in the moment he forgot about everything else. All he could do was feel the beat of the tempo, the press of Iz’s soft curves against him.

The music slowed and Iz twirled in his arms; her smile dimming as the people around them swayed sensually to the softer beat. She swallowed, gaze locked on his.

“Um, I think that’s good enough.” She broke the eye contact. “I think we showed them.”

He had no idea. He’d stopped paying attention to showing up their friends because he’d been having too much fun dancing with Iz. Letting loose, as his buddy had suggested.

“I gotta…um, bathroom. See ya at rehearsal, Chance.”

Then she was gone, moving through the crowded dance floor, weaving in and out of couples thanks to her small stature. Leaving him standing alone on the dance floor, wondering what the hell just happened.

5

Iz stepped into the studio, a bin of protein bites in hand. They’d been such a hit the other day. Everyone had complimented her on her baking skills and asked if she could bring more. Since baked goods were her love language, she was happy to continue making them. And if it made her popular with her cast-mates, that was a bonus.

A loud laugh carried across the room. She glanced over to see Chance standing with a group of people, animatedly talking as everyone threw their heads back in laughter. Speaking of people with bubbly personalities. Though he was as competitive and driven as her, Chance had always had an easygoing charm about him that drew people in. She admired it as much as she resented it.

Moving to the far wall where they kept the table with the sign-in sheet, sticky spray, and chalk, Iz placed her goodies next to the clipboard and signed in. Memories of dancing with Chance last night invaded her mind as she scribbled her name in dark ink across the lined paper. She never imagined she could have fun with Chance O’Brien—unless she was kicking his butt in something—but last night had been enjoyable.

Letting loose and dancing with him had been fun, freeing. For once she hadn’t felt like she needed to keep up or show him up. They’d simply enjoyed the beat of the music. Until the beat changed, and she’d noticed a few things. Like how close they were. How his large, firm hands felt on her hips. How warm his body had been. The enticing scent of sandalwood that wafted off him, surrounding her like a comforting blanket.

And then the worst thing of all had happened. She felt all the hard ridges of his body pressed up against her and reacted. Or her body reacted anyway. The dimly lit bar had obscured his view of it, but had she not run for the bathroom, he would have felt the way her nipples had pebbled against the thin tank top she’d been wearing last night.

She still couldn’t figure out what had happened. Why her body reacted that way. She didn’t like Chance on a good day, and she certainly had never been attracted to him.

Liar.

She huffed at her inner bullshit detector. Okay, maybe she’d had one or two hate-fuck fantasies about him over the years, but that didn’t mean she wanted to hop into bed with the guy now.

“Hey, Iz,” a deep, familiar voice called from behind her.

Speak of the devil.

“You ready for today?”

Taking a fortifying breath, she turned and faced Chance. The smile on his face was open and charming. His brown hair had been pulled back into a bun at the nap of his neck, beard neatly trimmed. The grey sweatpants he had on were tight enough that her horny brain was getting ideas. Or maybe it was his shirtless chest doing that.

Clothing was scarce in the aerial world. The more skin you had to grip on your apparatus, the better. The lack of protective material gave one some nasty bruises, fabric burns, and most lyra performers had rough callouses on their hands. Or, as they more affectionately called them, dick shredders. But it was all for love of the art, so his bare chest shouldn’t affect her.

It did.

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