Page 66 of The Way We Dance

Afterward, as Giselle fell asleep in my arms, I had to have a chat with myself and decide if I was willing to keep letting myself fall for her or if I needed to back off. Unfortunately, an hour of chatting inside my head and I still didn't have an answer to that.

I was the wrong one.

The street kid.

The troubled past.

The troubled family.

The guy that didn't know how to love anyone because no one ever showed him what it was like.

I didn't even know if I would recognize love if it slapped me in the face. Giselle was first class, grade A, blue-ribbon, top tier. Opposites always attracted but outside of the bedroom, what good did that do?

The only thing I decided that night was that I couldn't just walk away. Not yet. I had a few more lessons with her and that should be enough time to know what was between us.

* * *

The following week,I had practice every day and dance lessons at my usual times. Giselle seemed more at ease with the security she had hired and with the doors locked up tight at all times, no one could just pop in the way they did before.

On my lesson days, I snuck into the back of the reception area and watched Miss Priss do her thing with the kids. It amazed me how she could snap herself into ballerina mode, handle the kids, and make rockstar dancers out of them all in an hour.

Sam gave me high fives when he came from the studio each time. He seemed happier than I had seen him before and I had to admit, he was good. Extremely good.

For an eleven year old, I was in awe of his poise and balance. He never had to be redirected and each time Giselle started the music, it was as if he found a new level of astonishment. When I praised him afterward, he lit up even more and I realized I wielded a power I didn't know I had.

He looked up to me more than he should have and if I had told him that I thought ballet sucked, he would have quit on the spot.

My attention to that detail didn't go unnoticed by Giselle. She walked perfectly composed into the lobby and bid everyone a good evening with her perfect words and poise. Then as the last student left, she locked the door and turned to me with a smile. She thanked me for how I handled Sam and in an instant, she turned into the Giselle I met when our clothes were off.

She kissed me and shed her leotard, her hair came down, and we fucked in her office before we ever got to the dancing part of the evening.

Redressing in leggings and a crop top, I would follow her out to the studio and once again, we would dance the way she wanted me to. I walked, leaped, twisted, turned, and darted the shit out of the moves she gave me.

I got rewarded with smiles and kisses. Praised by her cupping my dick with her hand. I would tease her about touching her student inappropriately and she would tease me about everything in the world she could think of.

We laughed more than anything and for some reason, we always ended the night with a slow dance. I walked her home but didn't go up. With practices and her schedule getting back to normal, we never made it an option. But that didn't mean we didn't want to.

Both of us would joke about canceling everything we had planned and laying in bed all day. If we didn't have others to answer to, we probably would have.

By the following Sunday, I had to leave town for an away game, but that didn’t stop us from texting, talking, and FaceTiming. Giselle even watched my game on TV and I did a touchdown dance especially for her.

Needless to say, we may have both thought we were going to go our separate ways when I finished preseason and my dance lessons, but as time went on, I couldn’t see that happening.

We were a couple without saying the words or labeling ourselves.

As I started my last week of preseason, and my lessons were coming to a close, I had decided I was going to lock her down and make her mine. I didn't know what that entailed since I have never done it before, but I was positive that as long as we kept seeing each other and just being us, things would go how they were supposed to.

There was just one little problem that I had almost forgotten about. Something that could throw a wrench in my fucking plans and my fucking life.

My brother.

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