Page 5 of Captive Vows
Because instead of dreaming about auditioning and getting into school for ballet, I’d need to start smaller. Just this morning, I argued with my dad about these lessons at Amy’s mom’s studio. He whined and bitched about not being able to afford them anymore, and that was such a load of bull. I didn’t ask for anything. I didn’t beg. I didn’t covet materialistic crap. I asked for nothing while I did all the housework. On top of that, I gave him some of my money from my part-time job. These dance lessons were the only things I couldn’t sacrifice because dancing was just a part of who I was. It was in my blood.
If I can get Oliver to notice me, maybe that’ll be my in. And if I have an in, Dad can’t just make me stop.
With every step I took to reach Oliver as he left the room, I tried not to look like a stalker. Unfortunately, I felt like one. I felt like a manipulative fool. But that was how stuck I was. That was how far I was from reaching my dreams.
Desperate times sure did call for desperate measures.
Here goes.
I smiled as I bumped my shoulder into his, hurrying to catch up to him and make contact.
“Oh, hey.” He smiled kindly, looking me over as he caught me from the collision.
“I’msosorry,” I replied. “I’m just so eager to get out of here.”
Shit. What? What did I say that for? That’s going to make it sound like I don’t want to be here when I do.
“I mean, I’m just so sweaty.”
Oh, God. That’s gross. He’s going to think I smell.
“I was on the floor for an hour before that lesson started.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder, as if he wouldn’t know what I was talking about.
Lame, Gabby. Really, really lame!
“An hour.” He smiled, lowering his gaze to my chest. “Impressive.”
Wait. Is he talking about my dancing for an hour or my boobs?I was trying so hard. Keeping this stupid, hopefully sexy smile on my face. Thrusting my tits out. Leaning close. Running my hand down his arm. Giggling. Was I tryingtoohard? Was I too obvious?
God, I’m so bad at this.I was bound to scare him off.
“And I bet this is impressive too.” I put my hand on his chest and trailed it down toward his crotch. I’dneverdone something so forward like this. Touching a guy fell into the realm of dancing. When with a partner for the sake of the choreography, I’d be near a guy and brush against him. But this?
Am I doing this right?
It seemed like it. He stepped closer. Then he glanced around as if wanting to make sure no one was watching. As if he wanted to prolong this naughty privacy with me.
“Oh, yeah?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
Uh-oh.I hadn’t considered this idea of mine could work too well. I didn’t want to sleep with him. I didn’t evenknowhim. Already, regret was kicking in. This was too complicated. Too risky. Too dumb of a desperate idea.
“Yeah,” I replied. I was in this far. I had to keep it going now or I’d look like an imbecile.
He stepped into my space again and put his hand on my hip. Again, that was nothing new. Partners rested their hands there for a segue into a jump. But this wasn’t dancing. This was me trying to flirt to get ahead…
And it might be working.
I wanted his attention, and I definitely had it now. He licked his lips, staring at mine.
Fuck. Is he going to kiss me?
That would make this real.
That would push this too far.
“How about we get out of here, then?” he asked, pulling me toward him. “We can get out of here together and get sweaty… together.”
Oh, no. No. Let’s, um, let’s not?
