I shrug, turning to look at him as he combs his blond hair back from his face. He looks vaguely entertained. Dom, on the other hand, maintains an impassive expression. I’ve always found him hard to read, and I’m not sure if that’s because of his unusually light golden eyes. They contrast with his Jamaican heritage in a way that leaves me guessing what’s on his mind most of the time. Not that I really care.
“I like a challenge,” I say casually as I lead them toward the door. “Too many girls just give it up to me these days, so it’s fun when I find a bit of a chase. I’ll probably lose interest in her once I pop her cherry, but until then, I’m not giving up.”
Jay shrugs it off and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Whatever floats your boat, man.”
But as we exit the building, my thoughts turn to Anya. The girl baffles me. She’s like a puzzle I’m determined to crack. I know she wants me. I can feel her attraction toward me every time we touch.So why is she making this so difficult? Does she like the chase this much?I’m irritated by the fact that I now spend so many of my waking hours trying to understand her. I want to break down her resistance already and fuck her so I can stop feeling so goddamn obsessed.
15
ANYA
“Your transition there is weak,” Professor Moriari states, cutting into our demonstration as we practice after school. “Try breaking it up. Listen to the music. If you put a fouette directly following a grand jeté, you’re not acknowledging the natural build-up of the music.” He gives us a nod and moves on to the next couple.
Fin and I breathe hard as we look at each other, hands resting on our hips. I’m grateful Professor Moriari has set aside an extra hour after classes each day to help his students with their choreography for the winter showcase. Three separate dance classes’ worth of students has been joining us in his studio classroom to eke whatever bits of wisdom they can in preparation as they create their dance. He’s a brilliant choreographer, and we need all the help we can get.
“What if we try reversing them?” Fin suggests.
“Or maybe we’re trying to fit in too much. I could fouette as you grand jeté. That would break up the space. Then we could come back together after for the lift.”
Fin nods. “Let’s try that.”
We turn toward the mirror once more so we can watch the new strategy. The motion of other dancers behind us catch my eye in the reflection, and the heavy door to the studio slams shut as someone enters. My gaze shifts and my heart drops as soon as I recognize his face. In my periphery, I catch the way Fin bristles at Nicolo’s sudden appearance.
“What is with him?” Fin grumbles, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “Doesn’t he have something better to do than come gawk at you?”
I sigh. This has become Nicolo’s new thing. He’s started finding me during my performance classes, and now this practice after school. He just sits andwatchesme, looking more like a ravenous animal with his eye on his prey than anything. It’s unnerving, but it seems that this is his new level of torture since I’ve continued to refuse him.
“I’m sorry, Fin,” I apologize for the hundredth time.
Fin gives me a thin smile. “It’s not your fault. But I have to say, having you as a partner was a lot nicer when your stalker boyfriend wasn’t watching us all the time.”
“He’snotmy boyfriend,” I insist.
“Whatever. Let’s just dance.” Fin counts off, and we start the adjusted routine.
It’s challenging to focus with Nicolo’s eyes burning into me. I do my best to avoid acknowledging him. I thought at first that maybe he only did it to try and throw me off my game. But after I got used to the constant assessment and stopped slipping up, he’s still coming to watch me. And afterward, he hounds me, chasing off my friends until no one really dares speak to me after class if he’s around. I hate it.
With my mind elsewhere as I spin toward Fin, preparing for our lift, I miscalculated the distance, and we crash together, abruptly halting the maneuver as Fin’s hands grip my waist to stop me from falling.
“Sorry,” I gasp as I cling to Fin’s arms.
“It’s okay. Let’s try again.”
I nod, and as we get back into starting position and Fin counts off again, I force myself to stay focused only on the dance. Kicking one leg out as I rise up onto my grounded foot’s toes, I port de bras and spin, using the mirror as my spot. Fin moves behind me in his grand jeté, and I can feel the air move behind me from the power of his leap.
Swiftly switching feet, I twist and spin until I’m positioned right before Fin. Together, we dance across the floor as his hands find my hips. I push off from the ground, lifting one foot as I prepare for an aerial side split. Fin’s hand firmly grips my waist, guiding me into the air as I lock my muscles in place, and for an instant, I balance solely on his hand raised high above his head.
We wobble only slightly, and I can see the strain in Fin’s neck to keep my body aloft with one arm, but he does it. Then his elbow bends, and he eases me back toward the floor. I come down a bit hard, but it’s not bad for such an ambitious lift.
“I love it!” Fin says, a wide grin breaking out on his face.
I smile right along with him. We’ve already come a long way on our routine, and I’m proud of us. “With enough practice, I think we’re going to knock this out of the park.”
We give each other a double high five, and I glance at the time.
“I better get home,” I note. It’s been a little over an hour, and my aunt will be home anytime now.
“No worries. I don’t think my arms could do much more today anyway.” Fin makes his way over to the cubbies, carefully avoiding Nicolo’s gaze as he collects his things.