11. Alexis
Chapter 11
Alexis
If someone asked me what the epitome of romance was, you would never find me saying dance.
Books and movies do a great job of romanticizing the shit out of it, with grand ballrooms, beautiful dresses and stares filled with longing and desire. But out here in the real world, dancing means cramped studios, buckets of sweat, and too many people in your personal space.
Which is why, when I heard that our first official date for the contest was a salsa class, I wanted to fake an illness at once.
I’m not exaggerating when I say that Blake had to drag me into the car.
He had to drop by the house first to change, and though I’ve been at their place dozens of times over the years this time felt different. Not just because Rafael kept a shit-eating grin on his face when we walked in or because they kept telling me where Blake’s room was and that I shouldn’t be afraid to go with him. But because seeing me and Blake together seems to have shifted his teammates’ idea of me. No longer am I Levi’s quiet sister, easy to forget, boring to flirt with. Now, I’m Blake’s girlfriend. Off-limits. Kind of cool, in her own way. Or she must be if Blake’s willing to put up with her.
We almost kissed this morning— again —and like the other night we kind of brushed over it and went on with our day, though the tension is still there simmering underneath every little touch, every stolen glance. And there have been a lot of those.
Now here we are, in a ballet studio across town, with massive windows on one side and a wall of mirrors on the other. The film crew is larger than I expected, with massive cameras and boom mics scattered across the cramped studio, while we and two dozen other couples are packed like sardines on the dance floor.
How wonderful.
At least I have Blake here with me, whose absentminded touches are strangely comforting. Though after this morning, it’s hard to know where we stand. He hinted at wanting something more, and though I’d be hard-pressed to admit it out loud the thought has crossed my mind, too. But I can’t think about that now.
Not when I have to stay focused on not stepping on anyone’s toes. Literally.
The girl who took our sign-ups, Paris, skips to the front of the room after our warm-up and takes her place standing on a chair. She’s even smaller than my mother, with glossy blond hair and bold makeup that I’m sure makes her stand out in every room. “Hello everyone! You might have noticed our new friends—it’s because we have been keeping a little secret from you guys. We have partnered with a local television channel to broadcast this competition! Isn’t that exciting?”
It’s clear Paris expected us to be elated, but no one cheers. In fact, it’s groans and protests that dominate the room. No one signed up to be on actual television.
Our reaction flusters Paris, as she stammers. “Well, we like it, anyway. Nevertheless, this fun opportunity comes with some rule changes, so listen up!”
Another girl, slightly taller and with big, round glasses, joins Paris on a chair and clutches a list. Her voice is softer, slightly shaking, as if it takes everything in her might to get the words out. “Each week, two couples will be eligible for elimination, voted on by our viewers. Any proof of fraudulent behavior means instant disqualification. Voting is possible only through our website and ends one week after each date, with the eliminated couples being sought out on campus for a final interview. And we’re on TV now, so let’s keep things PG!”
I roll my eyes, though I feel a knot form in my stomach. This stupid announcement has raised the stakes tenfold.
We can’t falter, not for a moment.
It helps a little that we’re not the only fakes in the room. A few rows down are two of Alissa’s friends, who I know don’t play for the other’s team, and to the other side of the room there’s a couple who can’t even look at each other. If we’re more believable than them, we might survive the first round at least.
Only now do I notice the crew has changed. There’s the students, sure, but they hover around the new cameramen, hoping to pick up a thing or two. The new guys are older, more burly, and almost uncaring as they dart around the room to pick up shots of us. Years of reality TV has taught me that those who get the most airtime often win the competition, so whatever we do, we have to be interesting enough to catch their attention.
Paris and her friend have left to join the others to the side, with our instructors taking their place. They can’t be older than forty, with muscles to rival even Blake’s. Dancing is no joke. They jump right into it, and though I try to copy their moves I fail miserably. Damn those mirrors. Now I’m going to look like an idiot!
Blake catches my eye and smiles, leaning in until his breath tickles my ear. “Remember, we’re madly in love, so you can touch everything your heart desires.”
There is an emphasis on the word everything that is hard to miss, and the knowing smile on his face sends a shiver of yearning down my spine. My cheeks burn as I give him a playful shove, and I try to ignore my heart skipping a beat at the touch of his toned chest. “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, Taylor.”
A crease forms between Blake’s brows as he scans my face. “Is this about earlier?”
“It might be.”
His fingers travel up to the base of my spine and in one smooth movement he pulls me against him, his body rock hard against mine as he searches my eyes.
“If you’re worried I don’t find you attractive, you’re wasting your energy.” His hand closes over mine, gently gliding it over his chest until it rests over his heart. “Can you feel my heart, Alexis? Do you feel it beating?”
I nod.
“I didn’t. Not until I saw you all those years ago, when you laughed at me for the first time. I’m not sure what it is we have, but I know that I’ve never felt like this before. So I’m not going to kiss you or sleep with you, no matter how badly I want to. Not until you are one hundred percent sure, and you feel completely safe and adored by me.”
Blake’s heart hammers underneath my palm, and though I’m waiting for him to take it all back I know he won’t. He isn’t lying. I know that. But I can’t make sense of it, either.
“Are you saying I brought the great Blake Taylor to his knees?” I arch a brow, hoping he hears the quiet teasing in my voice.
His lips tug into a smirk. “You can have me on my knees whenever you want. When the time is right.”
“Well, aren’t you a gentleman?”
“Do you have to sound so disappointed?” Blake says. His hand glides down my thigh, lifting it to his hip before dipping me backward, our bodies pressed close for a few glorious moments.
“That depends. Do I have a reason to be disappointed? Or are you saving me from a let-down?”
A thunderous laugh rips from Blake’s chest and I shriek as the floor falls from beneath my feet, his hands holding firm onto my ribcage. His face is dangerously close to my core, and I can’t help but think about forcing his hand by throwing my leg over his shoulder and scooting closer until he forgets all about his adorably sweet hangups.
Through the mirror, I can see all the eyes in the room turn to us. Blake doesn’t put me down.
“What are you doing?” I whisper. “Put me down.”
“No. You’re in air jail until you apologize for wounding my ego. Besides, if you’re so afraid of being let down, you better get used to being up there,” Blake says calmly, and it’s hard to miss the self-satisfaction in his voice.
Bastard. Smug, kindhearted bastard.
“Fine. You can’t keep this up, anyway. At some point I’ll get too heavy to lift and you’ll have to put me down.” Finally all that extra padding has a purpose. I knew those extra snacks were worth it.
“Not happening. I work out six days a week, Sunshine. You weigh nothing to me.” I shriek as he maneuvers me down and slings me over his shoulder.
I hit his back with balled fists, though my laughter sabotages my tone as I say, “Put me down!”
“Never.” His hand presses into my ass to keep me in place. Am I dreaming, or did he just kiss my hip?
The cameras are on the two of us. I can see them all around. So as Blake carries me to the other side of the studio, away from the gazes of our competition and the class we knew I’d hate, I wait until I’m sure there’s a camera on me and squeeze Blake’s butt.