Dance with Me [h.s] (Completed)

Chapter 25

Harry picks me up the next morning and even brings me a protein smoothie. To keep your energy up he tells me when I ask why. I'm not exactly sure why he volunteered to teach dance with me today. The club doesn't close until four, so he is purposely missing out on sleep to be here. I know I would much rather be in bed.

"What classes do you teach today?" he asks as we drive.

"Ballet, hip-hop and contemporary. Do you have any experience in those?"

"A little bit," he says with his signature smirk.

"Is this like when you said you knew a little bit about Latin dancing?"

"I guess you'll just have to see."

I shake my head, rolling my eyes at his aloofness. I already know he is going to be amazing at them all. At this point, I don't think there's any style of dance that he can't do. The man knows how to move his body.

The first group in the studio are a bit older than the last ballet group that he was here for. Those kids were preschool aged while these kids are six and seven, although they have a very similar reaction to Harry. He crouches in front of me and hands me a hair elastic and I put his hair up in a bun for him just like last time. He goes and joins the other kids, facing me, as if he is in the class too. He looks like a big goof because he's so much taller than them with his scruffy beard and ballerina bun.

I begin teaching and Harry goes through all the motions, following along with the rest of the class. He makes the kids giggle as he does his turns and attempts to walk on his toes in his black sneakers. When the class is over, every kid makes a point of saying goodbye to Harry.

There is no break before our next group of kids comes in. They're ten and eleven years old. A few of them are quite good at hip-hop dancing and when we end class with a bit of group freestyle they all show off their moves. I watch two of the boys encouraging Harry to join in and when the center of our circle is free he jumps in, and begins doing the worm across the floor to great applause from the group. When he returns to his spot, I see the two boys high-fiving him and praising him.

The group leaves and each of them, who are usually too cool to say goodbye all say goodbye to Harry, doing little impromptu handshakes with him. I wonder if it's illegal to be born with as much charm as he has.

I sit down on one of the benches and pull out my lunch. Harry joins me seconds later, taking out his own lunch.

"No way!" he says to me as he looks over at my food.

"What?" I ask confused.

"That smells just like my favorite pasta salad from back in Italy."

"Do you want some?" I offer.

He nods, taking it from my hand, before using my fork to get a big bite. He moans out in pleasure at the taste and I find myself smiling at him in amusement.

"Oh my god! Did you make this?" he says before he has barely swallowed.

"Yes," I say laughing. "It's my Nonna's recipe."

"It tastes just like I remember."

"How long did you live in Italy for?"

"About five years."

"Whoa! What made you move to New York? Why not back to the UK?"

I can see he is a bit uncomfortable with my question as he starts fidgeting and avoiding my eye contact; two things he never does.

"Just needed a change," he finally answers.

I decide to drop the topic since he woke up early and came to dance class just to spend time with me. He doesn't deserve my prying today. But then he asks me a question.