Alyssa - Chapter Twenty Three

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Amy's hip connected with Alyssa's as Mia and Pasha whirled across the dance floor

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Amy's hip connected with Alyssa's as Mia and Pasha whirled across the dance floor. They weren't at full speed yet—only about three-quarter time—but they were hitting every single lift, turn, break, and hand change with ease. They were so close, and excitement stirred in her belly. The routine, done right, would be just as she'd imagined.

"This routine," Amy breathed out. "You're going to be famous."

She laughed and rocked her hip into Amy's. Did she expect people to take notice? Of course. Mia Malone would be performing her choreography at her wedding which was being live streamed to the world. Would this routine make her famous? Unlikely. Instead, fan accounts would probably spring up all over the web bowing down to the beautiful brute who'd danced so beautifully with Mia. 

His transformation from awkward, stilted, two-left-feet to smooth, in-control, and rhythmic was incredible. As part of the behind-the-scenes bits Mia planned to release on social media after the wedding, people would see how completely Pasha had been transformed. She was proud of the dance she'd put together, but she was bursting with pride for him, his determination, his awakening as a dancer.

"You realize you've created competition for yourself, right?" Amy asked. "Women are going to be lining up, knocking down his door to climb into his bed after the wedding."

Alyssa chuckled and gave Amy the side-eye. "And they weren't before?" She'd heard the dancers talking last tour and on this one as well. He'd never been short of offers or suggestions. After the word left her mouth, heat flooded her cheeks. What a stupid thing to say. As though she was admitting what they were to each other. "Not that it matters. He's free to do whatever he wants. We're colleagues, friends."

A sly smile touched Amy's lips. "Yes. I look at all my friends and colleagues the way you two look at each other. Makes total sense. Can you find me a friend and colleague like that?" She batted her eyes.

"I'm sure he doesn't look at me any differently than he looks at you." A lie. At first, he'd gazed at her during their sessions like he wanted to devour her whole. Lust. Enough men had perused her body for her to recognize the nakedness of their desire. Lately though, there was a softness around his eyes when they made eye contact that sent her heart galloping. 

His feelings for her weren't just lust anymore. What she couldn't decide, what she was afraid to ask was whether she could ever compete with the love he'd had for Zoya. When they'd talked about her death, he'd said he couldn't feel that way again. Did he mean he couldn't love like that again? Or something else? His answer, had she asked, might have broken her heart.

"I don't know if you two are lying to yourselves or you're just lying to me, but we should all understand what you just said is not at all true." Amy waved her hand toward Mia and Pasha who'd just finished their routine. Pasha's gaze was locked on Alyssa as he drank from his water bottle. "Mia is talking to him right now, and he's only got eyes for you. You're it. The rest of us—we don't exist right now."

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