“Stay focused on me. That guy’s a fucking idiot, and you’re better off without him.”
“His photographs have been featured inNational Geographic.”
“Impressive, but he’s still an idiot.” His eyebrows lift. “We can outdance him.”
He’s probably being nice out of guilt or pity, but I’m all for using his competitive edge for face-saving purposes.
“Relax! Have fun!” Martina instructs, breaking the tension between us.
Tristan and Rix are laughing and having a great time. Barton and Alison seem to have already mastered the two-step and are dancing around the room with ease.
I will not be outdanced by my ex.
I relax into Nate’s arms.
He smirks and takes the lead.
Surprisingly, he’s a good dancer. I don’t want to find it sexy, but the way he takes control and guides me around the room is irritatingly hot. And it’s wildly satisfying that we’re infinitely better than Barton and his fiancée.
We move on to ballroom dancing. Nate proves to be a versatile partner, and he’s just as good at this as he was at the two-step. We dance circles around my ex while Tristan and Rix are called out several times because his hand placement is inappropriate. They will for sure bone like bunnies when they get home. And I will have to take a cold shower so I don’t give in and get myself off to thoughts of Nate.
Salsa is the most complicated of the routines, but our competitive sides have been fully engaged, especially since Barton and Alison already seem to be salsa pros. But determination, Nate’s attention to detail, and my bendiness give us an advantage. He lifts and spins and twirls and dips me. My leg ends up on his shoulder in some complicated spin-dip move. And then our bodies press tight against each other. His hot gaze is locked on mine, and I can’t look away. Nate’s knee finds its way betweenmy thighs, and he hooks my knee over his hip as we attempt another advanced-level combo.
I’m sweaty and breathless by the time the song comes to an end. I can’t break free from Nate’s dark, satisfied gaze. This feels like the most incredible foreplay, and every part of me is hot with desire.
Clapping startles us. Nate and I release each other and step back. He shoves his hands in his pockets, and I smooth mine over my hips. I’d completely forgotten about Barton and Alison.
Our instructors are beaming. My ex is staring at us, his fiancée looks annoyed, and Rix and Tristan are sitting on one of the benches, both of them regarding us with more interest than I’d like.
Rix hugs Tristan’s biceps. “You two have been so weird tonight.”
I smile and flick the end of my ponytail over my shoulder, feigning nonchalance and avoiding direct eye contact. “Nate’s really competitive,” I explain. “Seems to run in the family.”
CHAPTER 10
NATE
“What’s in the box?” I check my pockets to make sure I have everything I need before I head over to see my brother.
“Dunno. It has my sister’s name on it. She probably sent it here by accident.” Flip stands in front of the stove, stirring cheese powder into the pot. The guy loves neon noodles. There is a salad on the counter, as well as seasoned, cooked chicken breast—both provided by Rix—so at least all his food groups are covered and there’s some balance.
“I can drop it off at their place.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Flip dumps most of the pot onto his plate alongside the chicken.
“Not at all. I’m on my way there now.” The guys’ weekend is around the corner. I’ve kept the location under wraps, so it’ll be a sweet surprise, but there are a few details to iron out.
“Okay, cool. Rix will appreciate it.” He turns to face me. “Heard you’re quite the dancer.”
“Fuck off.” I shoot him the bird, shove my feet into my shoes, grab the box—it’s surprisingly light—and head for the door. Of course Tristan or Rix said something to him. Essie was a cheerleader and a gymnast. So maybe I watched a couple of tutorialvideos prior to our lessons. I wasn’t going to be upstaged by Little Miss Sunshine and Rainbows.
Her ex being there shifted things, though. If that had been Lisa with the guy she dumped me for, I don’t know that I would have been able to keep my shit together. I probably would have turned into a giant asshole instead of a sheet of plywood. The more time I spend with Essie, the more intrigued I become. Sure she bounces back after heartbreak, but it still hurts her. I could see it on her face, feel it in her stiff posture. How many scars does her heart have? How deep are they?
Flip’s laughter follows me into the hall.
I take the elevator to the lobby and walk the two blocks to my brother’s building. We’re experiencing a typical July heatwave, so even this late in the day, the blast of air conditioning when I step into the foyer is a welcome reprieve from the humidity.
My brother buzzes me in. The door is propped open with the safety latch when I arrive. I still knock and poke my head in, to be safe. “Tris? You here and decent?”