Page 29 of Playing Flirty

The car stopped in front of a baby-pink building, pulling me from my thoughts.

“We’re here.” Neema climbed out wearing her shortest shorts, as instructed.

You need the friction between your thighs and the pole, the instructor had told us.

While I was short, I was not as slender as Claire or as athletic as Neema. I’d need a lot more than friction to get my body to defy gravity.

As soon as we walked in, our instructor shimmied with glee. Her silver hot pants accentuated her gloriously long legs. I could use them instead of the pole.

We greeted Neema’s other friends before the instructor addressed us.

“Welcome, ladies!” She stretched one leg high in front of her before taking a step. Spinning once, she pressed her back against the pole and slid down.

She dipped in such a seductive way that my cheeks heated.

“I’m going to teach you a beginner routine with enough twirls and spins to make it impressive.”

Her eyes screamedsexywhile I was sure mine screamedscared.

But our first task was simple enough: stretching our arms upward, grabbing ahold of the pole, and lifting ourselves off the ground.

Well, I was wrong. As someone who’d never lifted anything heavier than a laptop bag, this was not going to work.

After a few mediocre pulls—and activating muscles I didn’t know I had—I managed to find a rhythm and get the hang of it. But as soon as I’d gained my confidence, the instructor showed us our next move.

The Fireman.

The only problem is that none of the firemen in the videos I often watched ever did this trick.

Following the instructor’s step-by-step directions, I mimicked her posture and curled a leg around the cold pole. With a deep breath, I lifted my other leg off the ground. I squeezed my eyes shut—hitting the floor would be less painful if I didn’t see it coming.

But I didn’t fall.

It worked.

Everyone was as shocked as I was.

“See, Rose,” Neema yelled, “you’ve got this!”

Her other friends cheered, and the tips of my ears heated.

With each move and every spin, I surprised myself and enjoyed the way my heart pulsed.

“Good job, girls,” our instructor said at the end of the lesson. “You’ll be ready for your performance in no time.”

“Performance?” Claire and I asked at the same time, our heads snapping toward a very guilty-looking Neema, who grabbed her things and bolted toward the car.

“About that…” she started when we caught up to her.

I was already shaking my head, taking a few steps closer to her.

“I meant to talk to you about this before the class, but you’ve been so busy and stressed, I thought it better I tell you at a later stage.”

“Tell me what?” I glared at her.

“Remember how I asked if we could end up at VOX?” She scrunched her nose and smiled at the same time.

“Yes, for the pizza and live music.” I dropped my head into my hands in preparation for Neema’s secret plans.

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