Dance Around It (Strip in the City, Book 1)

19 • Not a Date

When I walked inside the famous Broadway Dance Studio, wearing black leggings, a cropped t-shirt, and my favorite high tops, I was surprised to find West already waiting for me.

He was early. I hadn't expected him to be early. Patrick had never shown up early when I'd asked him to practice before auditions.

West greeted me brightly as I approached.

I swallowed hard at the sight of him. Why did he always look so damn good? Dressed in a tight black tank top and black joggers, my eyes drifted to his wide, muscled shoulders before settling on his face.

"Hi," I breathed, trying not to grin like an idiot, but it wasn't working. All of a sudden my heart was dancing in my chest and my back was sweating.

Tan and I talked at length yesterday about my not crush on West. When she came over for pizza, I told her I was trying really hard not to have feelings for him, and blamed my interest in my client on the fact that he was gorgeous.

In true Tan form, she told me to, "Fuck his brains out Maren. You need to get this not crush out of your system before you explode. Or implode. Either way, it won't be pretty and I'm thinking you'll need a vajacial afterwards."

"I'm not fucking my ex-stripper, slick-dancing client!" No matter how badly I want to. "And I'm also not getting a crotch facial!" I fell back against my couch, somewhere between laughing and crying. Which—to be fair—perfectly described Tan and I's friendship.

Finding humor in these impossible situations we found ourselves in.

"Don't knock it till you try it," Tan said mildly. "That's all I'm saying."

"The vajacial or sleeping with a client?"

Tan popped a pepperoni in her mouth. "Um, both."

We both laughed until my eyes were moist with tears. I knew the second I let West put his mouth and... his other parts, near me, I'd be hooked. That's how vagina whisperers worked. They hooked you.

It wouldn't be a one time thing. It would be an every chance I got thing.

No, said a little voice inside me. The one that was scared of fracturing the heart I'd just glued back together.

If our dance at the Oiled Olive told me anything, it was that West would be wild in bed. Probably more than wild. Just like Tommy was. But guys that were wild in bed weren't the kind of guys you wanted around long term, and I had tied myself professionally to this man for an entire year.

So, I'd decided I was going to try to be myself around West, flaws and all, and hope that constant embarrassment was enough to smother my feelings for him.

It didn't matter if West thought I was as clumsy as a drunk toddler. I didn't need him to like me. I just needed him to get a part and make money.

Tan had scooted closer to me and said, "Maren, are you sure this isn't more than a crush? Because you're acting like you have feelings for West."