Cam
He’d been so pumped when Teagan had asked him to be her date, he got tunnel vision. Poured his energies into panicking about what to wear and had forgotten one very important thing: Formal dances involved dancing.
Everyone was heading out onto the floor. Even Noah had put down his book to throw some shapes. Teagan had stayed at the table with him, but he could tell she was itching to get out there with the rest of the crew.
She leaned close so he could hear her above the music. He tried to memorize the scent of her shampoo because chances were this was the last time he’d be close enough to smell it.
“I know a way you can really get the team behind you.”
Great. He was up for it.
“Show us your moves,” Teagan said, nodding at the dance floor.
Nope. They already had enough things to rib him about. He wasn’t going to hand them more on a platter.
“Not happening.”
She pulled back, confused by his abrupt mood change. Idiot! Why was he self-destructing his chances of convincing her he was boyfriend material? He knew why. If she saw him dance? It’d be game over.
“Okaaay. I guess we’ll stay here, then. Like old people.”
She clearly wanted an explanation. Deserved one. The truth was too embarrassing.
“Like smart people,” he said, giving his head a little tap as if she didn’t know where brains were kept. He obviously didn’t. “These are the best seats in the house. Look.”
Crabby and Baloo had started a dance battle nearby. The pair of them—tall and strong versus less tall but getting stronger every day—throwing a never-ending stream of moves at each other. He could tell Teagan was giving him the side-eye. Trying to figure out why his mood had changed.
Crabby and Baloo decided they had hit peak dancing and pointed at Josh and Ryder.
Josh went first, whipping out a smooth side shuffle like he was Fred Astaire.
Ryder’s robot hit some top comedy notes, whether or not he’d meant it to.
“At least they’re enthusiastic.” Teagan gave him a meaningful look.
Nope. “And that’s my cue to get some punch.”
She grabbed his hand before he could escape. “Nice try, Dillinger. It’s going to be your turn soon, whether you like it or not.”
“I’m not going out there.” He knew it was time to be honest. “I’m terrible.”
Teagan laughed, but not at him. Quaid and Noah were out there now, dancing like they were listening to entirely different songs. “You can’t be worse than Bert and Ernie.”
She had a point. Okay. Yeah, he could do this. But then Perry slid into the center of the group and started busting out moves like he was the featured dancer in a hip-hop video.
“Sorry, Teagan. I can’t follow that.”
“Hey.” She waited until he met her gaze. “Do you want to be stroke or not?”
He did. And she was right. He was the one creating barriers between himself and the team. If some bad dancing was what it took to show them he was a wolf who could lead the pack, so be it. He got up.
His first move? The freeze.
Didn’t involve moving.
Did involve a whole lot of How do I get out of here?
“Forget the crowd,” Teagan whispered, joining him in the circle. “Just look at me.”
She stepped back and did a goofy dance move, threw it to him. He caught it, built on it, threw it back.
Everyone cheered.
Well, what do you know? Putting yourself out there didn’t always mean failure. Teagan’s smile spurred him on. He actually did have a couple of moves. Rusty, but what the hell? He went for it.
Threw himself at the floor stupidly confident it wouldn’t hit him in the face as he tried to pull off a classic: The Worm.
The crew went berserk. He’d done it! Thank god. His parents wouldn’t have been able to afford the dentist bills if he’d faceplanted. When he got back up, Teagan gave him a high five. “Told you.”
Yeah, she had. “You’re very wise, sensei.” He performed a half bow.
She laughed. “Remember that next time we have an erg session.”
He’d remember this night forever. No doubt about it.