Page 33 of Dancing on Air

“Just sometimes?”

He shifted and glanced out the windows. “When I’m working on Dancing on Air, I’m happy. It’s like… having a slab of clay in my hands and having the freedom to mold it into whatever I want. Then I’m snapped back into reality and have to work on Romeo and Juliet and, boom, the mold is already set and I have to conform to the pre-set story and moves and bend to my family’s wishes as well. Plus, the wishes of those who hold their coin purse.”

“It’s frustrating.” She nodded in agreement.

“Right.” He ran his eyes over her as if trying to figure her out. “How about you? Do you like dancing?”

She smiled. “It’s my greatest joy.”

“But?” He waited.

“But…” She took a deep breath. “I really feel the freedom when it’s just me in the room with music I want to dance to,” she admitted.

He was quiet again. “I’d like to see that sometime.”

“You do have your own studio,” she reminded him.

He glanced at his watch. “And I’ve kept you late enough.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m jazzed after talking to your sister. Plus you just gave me more calories than I normally eat in a week.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s either that or I jog back to the dorms.”

He frowned and looked out the dark windows. Then he shrugged. “If you’re sure.”

She jumped up and rushed to grab her bag by the door.

He followed her back to the studio. To Madame Jaqueline LaRue’s private studio.

After stretching, she sat on the hardwood floor, pulled off her sweats, and slipped on her toe shoes. She pulled up her favorite song to dance to on her phone and hooked it to his speaker. She moved to the center of the room and waited for the music to start.

She smiled at him when it began, and he leaned against the wall and watched her move.

She was like water and air. Her movements were like breathing to her. Each jump was like diving into the ocean, thrilling and graceful.

She lost herself in the music. The movements. The story inside her own head. Her body knew the moves, knew what she wanted to say through each limb. And she allowed it all to flow from her while Max silently watched.

Chapter Nine

Max had never seen anything as beautiful as Cora unleashed. She moved differently than she did during class or practice. This was something uniquely her.

She was more fluid. More graceful. More… amazing.

He simply couldn’t take his eyes off her. The more she moved, the more he never wanted to blink or even breathe.

When the music ended, he moved over to her, silently. His hands gripped her hips while hers landed softly on his shoulders.

“Max.” His name was a whisper, just before he leaned in and tasted her lips softly.

He’d only meant to taste her, to show her how much her dance meant to him. How it had touched him deep inside where nothing had since that fateful day a couple years before.

Up until she’d started to move, he’d been numb to the world. Now, a flood of feelings had sprung free. The first and most important was appreciation, which masked itself in lust.

When her hands moved into his hair, to pull him closer, his mind snapped into focus.

“Cora.” He sighed and rested his forehead against hers.

“Max, don’t stop,” she said, kissing him again. “For now, let’s just… feel.” She stepped back and started removing her leotard. He watched, frozen in place as she slowly stripped for him.

When she moved back towards him and started peeling his clothes off, he realized it was hopeless to try and avoid his attraction for her any longer.