Page 19 of Off Balance

"You'll see." He's practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Cameron walks in at that moment, looking curiously at his stepdad before quickly darting a glance at me. "What's got him all worked up?"

I disguise my surprise at seeing him with a shrug and gulp down the last few swallows of the crappy coffee. "No clue. Still waiting to find out."

Dwayne's face is lit up, and he's holding his hands out in atadatype gesture. His gaze flits back and forth between me and Cameron, waiting for us to catch on.

Wait.WasCameronthe something different? I’ll admit he's definitely something different, but I don't see how he has anything to do with my training. Unless Dwayne has figured me out and wants to dangle him in front of me like the proverbialcarrot on a stick. It's not a bad plan. I'd run a little faster, hit a little harder, go a little longer if Cameron was watching me.

"Are you going to tell me why you wanted me here this morning?" Cameron asks. He looks like he's just come from the gym. He's wearing loose, light grey joggers, a tank top with oversized armholes that show off his dusty pink nipples when he adjusts his bag on the opposite arm, and the same pair of beat-up Converse he was wearing yesterday.

I turn my head sharply away from him before I get caught staring at his nipples.

"Your schedule with the shows has slowed down a bit, yeah? You're doing shorter workouts in the mornings while the show runs?"Dwayne inquires.

"Um, I guess."

"And your classes at the community center haven't started yet?"

"No, not yet…"

"Well, I have a proposition for you."

"Okay," Cameron draws out the word, sounding as unsure as I'm feeling.

"Wanna get to the point?" I deadpan.

"I'd like to hire you to train Dom."

We both shout at the same time. "What?!"

"No offense, but I'm a ballet dancer, not a fighting expert."

I cross my arms, glaring daggers at my brother. "Full offense, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Dwayne waits for us to calm down before he turns his computer screen to us. There are several tabs open, some to YouTube, others to news articles, and one that looks to be a professional sports medicine journal. Cameron and I flick through them, giving each page a cursory glance before we look back up to Dwayne, who looks far too pleased with himself.

"Ballet training can be highly beneficial for a lot of different types of athletics, especially boxing. It can improve flexibility, precision, strength, and balance. All areas that you could use the help with most."

I try to suppress a scoff and end up snorting. "Strength?" Balance and flexibility, I could see. Although I still don't see how dancing is going to make me a better boxer.

"You doubt my strength?" Cameron says, crossing his arms. I don't know how to answer without pointing out the obvious and hurting his feelings. He gets enough of that shit from Alistar.

"I'm not saying I doubt your strength. I just mean…” I flex my biceps a little to make my point for me. He’s in fantastic shape, but strength is relative, and I’m way bigger in the muscle department.

Cameron's eyes flash, and I sense a challenge coming on. "Okay then, let's see what you got." He turns on his heel and marches out of the office.

Sparing a glance at my brother, who is trying and failing to suppress a smug grin, I follow Cameron into the main gym floor. The gym is broken up into three sections. There are three practice rings front and center, and behind them, there's a space dedicated to free weights, and another with about half a dozen heavy bags hanging from the ceiling, and a row of speed bagsclose to the wall. There are people working out at a few of the bags and at the weights, plus two guys sparring in one of the rings.

Cameron stops in front of an open ring and sets his bag down. Then he removes his shoes, socks, shirt, and sweatpants, leaving him in nothing but a pair of spandex shorts. They're down to his knees, but the tight fabric leaves very little to the imagination. I avert my gaze from the round, muscular globes of his ass as he climbs into the ring before following him up. I'm uncomfortable, and it's mostly because of his state of undress. I don't want to look at him too long, because my eyes might get stuck trailing over his lean physique. His body manages to look willowy and ripped at the same time. He has far more abs than I do, each one of them a sharp cut into his lean torso that tapers into a clearly defined V.

He extends his arms above his head, elongating his torso and coming to his toes as he stretches from the tips of his fingers all the way down to the balls of his feet. I have to admit that I can already see his point. He's small, much smaller than me, but every inch of him ripples with muscle despite his slight frame.

My eyes are stuck on his body. I’m unsure how to tear my gaze away in case he's about to try to fight me or something. Not that I'd fight back. I'd probably barely defend myself, only stand there and take the brunt of all the frustration I can tell he's holding back.

But he doesn't run at me, or assume a fighting stance, or do anything of the sort. Instead, he lifts one foot back and tips forward. The back leg flies up in a wide arc, until his head is pointed straight down at the ground, hands on either side of the planted leg. The other leg points straight up, his body a perfect vertical line. Holy shit, he's flexible.

I watch with rapt attention as Cameron plants his hands squarely on the ground, and with what looks like no effort, shifts his weight to his hands and lifts the other leg into the air. Both legs point to the sky, then fold outward in what seems like an unnatural angle until he's doing a split upside down in the air. His knees bend, and I think for sure he's going to put his legs down or fall over, but with slow, controlled movements, he extends his legs again, widening them into a side split before he curls his body, turning himself so his head is now upright again, legs outstretched on either side of him but still holding himself up with nothing but his arms. Then he moves his legs out behind him, bending his arms at the elbow, biceps bulging as he extends his arms again and holds himself parallel to the ground.

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