Page 65 of Last Fall

She smiled up at me. “It was probably eighth grade, maybe ninth, and I was sick to death of tap, jazz, ballet. I wanted more. So I threatened to quit dance unless she agreed to let me pick one class every year. That meant she still got recitals and competitions, while I got to learn rumba, samba, and eventually salsa. I really fell hard for the Latin streetdances.”

And. It. Showed. She didn’t quite move like she was born into it, but damn was she close. “I didn’t realize you were a dancer. It makessensenow.”

“What makessense?”

“How you knew the club schedule off the top ofyourhead.”

Her eyes danced like she didn’t have a care in the world. It was fucking gorgeous. “I go to yoga with June. I happily grab a kayak and wander around the island. I even go for a jog a couple times a week, but traditional working out bores me to death.” She shook her head as she looked out at the dance floor. “But I can spend two hours here dancing and not even notice the time that’spassed.”

“I will happily join you for this kind of workoutanytime.”

“You’re a pretty goodpartner.”

The blood rushed south again at the way she raked her gaze up my body as she spoke. I swallowed down the urge to say I was a good partner in bed too. “I didn’t take any classes so I’m glad tohearthat.”

“You don’t need classes if you grow up with dance in your family. That’s actually one of the best pieces of advice I ever got. It kind of changedmylife.”

I didn’t quite follow her train of thought. “The best advice you ever got was to be born into a family thatdanced?”

“No,” she laughed, never taking her eyes off me. “That street dancing isn’t technical. It’s not about perfect technique. It’s about embodying the music in physical form. When you grow up with that kind of dancing around you it’s second nature. You don’t think about what you’re doing, you just do it. And all I did was think. And think. Andthink.”

Ah, now I understood where she was coming from. And I so got it. Zoe was always up inside that head of hers. I had a feeling it was a good thing most of the time. At least for her readers. “You definitely weren’t overthinking anything outthere.”

“You made it easy toletgo.”

Fuck.I couldn’t breathe when she said things like that, all soft and intentional, while staring at me. Somehow my hands wound up back in her hair. “You’re beautiful when youletgo.”

“Letting go is scary. Sometimes you fall right on your face. But sometimes,” she blinked away. “I’ve had my greatest successesandmy greatest failures from the exact samething.”

I ducked down because I absolutely hated not having her eyes on me. I found those green eyes and I didn’t move. “I’ll never letyoufall.”

It could have been seconds or it could have been hours we stayed like that. It wasn’t a line. I wasn’t saying it to get a response. It was how I felt and how I knew I’dreact.

Finally she took a breath. “I need anotherdance.”

“Finish your water,” I said, reaching past her for the last sip of mybottle.

“Bossy,” she mumbled, but finishedanyway.

“I didn’t mean to be bossy.” I pulled her up out of the chair and back into my arms. “I meant to be helpful. Caring. Youknow?Nice?”

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, lost in the music. “You are nice. And caring. And I’mgunshy.”

About being bossed around. Told what to do.Thefucker.

She opened her eyes and threw her arms around my neck. “You’re not like him.Atall.”

“What?” We were so close our noses brushed. I could feel her heart pounding in herchest.

“I said I was gun shy and you put a vice grip on my hips and your eyes got all sad and angry, so I wanted you to know I wasn’t comparing you to him. I was simply explaining why I react strangely to certainthings.”

I put my arms around her and just barely stopped myself from crushing her hard against my chest. If she thought she reacted strangely to certain things maybe she’d understand my weird reactions. “When you say things like that, it makes me want to keep yourighthere.”

“Keep me?” her voicewavered.

“No.Hold you.Make you feel safe. Beat the fucking shit out of anyone who ever makes you hurtagain.”

We weren’t dancinganymore.

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