Page 10 of I Wanna Dance

Viviana had no idea how correct she was because something was happening between Leah and me that I didn’t understand. I was getting carried away by how I felt about her, how she smelled of vanilla and citrus.

We got into position, facing each other, and I itched to hold her in my arms. I placed my right hand lightly on her back, just above her waist, and her left hand rested on my shoulder. Her other hand slid into mine, and for a moment, I was hyper-aware of Leah—the pulse beneath her skin, her look of surprise because this attraction was not one-sided, the way her gaze flickered up to meet mine and then darted away.

“Don’t overthink it,” I said, not sure if I was telling that to her or myself.

“We’re dancing,” she agreed. “We count the steps and follow the rhythm. We don’t have to think.”

“Ready?” Viviana called out. “Five, six, seven, eight!”

I focused on the mechanics: step to the left, guide her across, and pivot, but as the rhythm of the music seeped into my bones, our dancing became fluid.

Leah moved with me softly and deliberately, following my lead without hesitation. When I guided her across my body, her hand never let go of mine, and for a split second, she was so close I could feel the heat radiating from her skin. Her blue eyes locked onto mine, and the connection between us felt magnetic, like an invisible thread pulling us closer.

We didn’t speak—I, for one, didn’t know what to say. I’d never felt this before—this instant lust. Not even for Camille.

My gaze flickered away from her.

Camille and I were going to learn to dance the tango and surprise our friends and family at our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. We’d spent that anniversary in bed, machines beeping around us. She passed away two weeks later.

“Stay with me,” Leah said breathlessly as we repeated the dance steps.

I frowned. How could she tell what I was thinking?

“We’re doing the salsa,” she whispered. “Don’t overthink it.”

I did as she asked. I couldn’t stop myself. We were dancing—but we were also living right here in this studio. I was feeling things I didn’t want to, and there was nothing I could do about it. I’d held this woman twice in my life, and already I knew how she fit me. It didn’t make sense.

I thought about what she’d just said, “We’re doing the salsa,” and, yeah, I agreed, there wasn’t any reason to overthink it.

“Not bad,” she complimented me when I followed Viviana’s instructions, twirling her.

“Not bad at all,” I replied huskily.

She licked her lips. I wanted to kiss her, I realized. I wanted to taste her plump, moist lips. I wantedher.

We kept going, moving in sync, the awkwardness of our first class fading. Every time our bodies shifted just a little closer, a current passed through me, reminding me that something was happening between my dance partner and me.

At one point, I spun her out and then guided her back in, and when she landed in my arms, her face was inches from mine. Her lips parted slightly, and I swore I felt her breath against my cheek.

“Marco?”

“We’re just dancing.” My hand tightened on her back.

Time seemed to pause, the music fading into the background as we stood there, suspended in a moment that felt both endless and fleeting.

I wanted to kiss her. God, how I wanted to kiss her.

But just as I started to lean in, Viviana’s voice rang out again. “Beautiful! Everyone’s looking so good! Let’s add some turns to that cross-body lead!”

Leah blinked, breaking the moment, and stepped back slightly. Her cheeks were flushed, and she gave me a small, nervous laugh.

“Looks like we’re being put to the test.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Looks like it.” My heart was pounding.

We spent the rest of the class practicing the move with the turns Viviana had added, and by the end of it, I felt like I’d run a marathon. But when the music stopped, and we all began gathering our things, I couldn’t let the moment pass.

“Leah.” I caught her as she reached for her bag.

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