Page 70 of Just a Little White Lie

I shouldn’t.

I won’t.

I’m gonna teach her the dance moves and that’s it.

Enough deep conversations and hand touching. I need to stop flirting with that dangerous line and pull myself together.

This weekend, I’ll be all business. I’ll teach Lauren what she needs to know, and hopefully in the process, I’ll figure out how to be around her without wanting her in ways I shouldn’t.

LAUREN

“So, we’re going to go this direction.” Jack points to the end of the room. It’s lined with mirrors, and I can’t stop staring at him… and lil ol’ me. His tall, imposing figure dwarfs mine as I stand in front of him, my head only just reaching the top of his shoulder. He’s decked out in sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt—one of those loose, baggy ones that flashes me glimpses of his cut torso and perfectly formed pecs. Trying to keep my eyes from roving his body is turning into my challenge of the day.

I don’t think he has the same problem. Jack’s gaze is focused and intent. He’s in dance-teacher mode, totally missing the super cuteness of my yoga pants and fitted tank. The set is black with orange trim, and I know I look good; that’s why I chose it.

I don’t actually know why—or I don’t want to admit why—I’m so disappointed by Jack’s serious lack of comments on how smokin’ I am today. But what am I expecting? It’s not like he’s my boyfriend. He’s helping me out, which means he doesn’t need to notice anything about me. He just has to teach me how to pull off some awesome dance moves.

We’re standing in the studio at Haven Academy. It’s Saturday morning, and I got special permission from Erik to use the space so “I” could choreograph the dance.

From the outside, we must look like quite the dancing couple. You know, at a glance. If someone was curious enough to actually stop and watch us, they’d soon realize that I’m the nightclubbing novice and Jack is the celebrity tutor. Well, minor celebrity, but still! He was on TV, so that’s kinda cool.

I’m still reeling a little over what happened to him, but I also love the way he opened up to me. He laid it all bare and I could see his pain as he admitted the truth. I don’t know why he’s embarrassed by it. He didn’t do anything wrong.

Yolanda Baker on the other hand. Yeah, I’d like to bitch slap her to Jupiter.

“And five, six, seven, eight.” Jack clicks me in, and I start sidestepping, mirroring his moves.

“That’s good and four more. Five, six, seven, eight. Then turn and back.” He’s clicking his fingers to keep time, and I pivot on my foot, struggling to keep up. “And scoop the arm, then—okay, stop.” He walks over to me, grabbing my floppy arm and showing me the move again. “Keep it strong, like more of a punch, and lean back just a little.”

His hand is on my hip now, burning a hole right through my yoga pants. I do as he says, but trying to breathe normally when he’s this close is turning into challenge-of-the-day number two.

“Yeah, good, good.” Jack jumps back, oblivious to the rockets firing through me. “I think a Humpty would work well here.”

He shows me the move with its little hip-bounce, feet-crossing thing. I copy it but don’t do a very good job.

“Loosen up your hips.”

I try.

“No, like this.” He shows me the move in slow motion.

I copy it again and try to thinkloosey-goosey.

“Better.” He nods, then frowns, his face bunching comically as he spins and walks away from me.

I pout at his back, wondering what he’s thinking, but then realize he’s in dance mode. His arm shoots out, his feet doing some twirly thing that looks way too complicated, and then he’s facing me again, a grin stretching his mouth wide. “That’ll work. I like it. I think it’d be great to pull in some contemporary elements, give the dance some dynamic and unexpected flare, especially for that slower part in the middle before we build back up again for the finale song.”

I nod.

I don’t know. Sounds good to me.

“I’m happy to follow your lead.” I smile.

He nods, still distracted by whatever he’s thinking. I watch him mutter to himself, throw his body around like it’s made of elastic rather than bones, but then pull off a series of sharp moves that proves he’s in full control.

Man, he really is a phenomenal dancer. I love watching him. He’s in total control of his body, turning it from liquid to steel in easy moves that captivate me.

I watch every turn, sway, and pivot and don’t even bother trying to stop the swell of yearning inside me.

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