are very damn lucky I enjoy watching you dance.”
I smile at her, and we get into the taxi waiting outside to take us across the bridge to Bianca’s studio. The journey is quick, and when we get there, Maddie stops and stares at the small building housing the studio.
“It’s … Different than I expected,” she hedges.
I raise an eyebrow at her. “What? Did you expect Juilliard?”
“Not exactly. But Juilliard is so … Pretty. And this is, well, not.”
I back against the door and push it open, a small, knowing smile on my face. “You haven’t seen the inside yet.”
She wordlessly follows me down the small corridor leading to the main studio. I glance back to see her eyes widen and her jaw drop open. I know she’s experiencing what I did when I walked into Bianca’s studio for the first time – complete and utter disbelief that a studio so professional and perfect could be in such a bland-looking building.
“Damn,” she whispers. “This is some studio.” Her eyes travel across it, drinking in every inch of the room, before resting on the corner. “Oh, hot damn! ”
I follow her gaze and my eyes land on Blake’s back. If the messy brown hair combined with the fact he’s early isn’t a giveaway it’s him, it’s the way he stands. Strong and tall without a hint of a slouch. His posture is almost regal, and my gaze skirts up and down his body before I realize what I’m doing and pull it away.
“Is that the British guy?” Maddie nudges my arm. “Wait, it is. You’re drooling!”
I snap my head round to look at her. “I am so not!”
She studies my face for a second and smirks. “Just a little. God, I don’t blame you.”
“You have a boyfriend,” I remind her.
“I can look, Abbi. Especially when that is the view.”
I roll my eyes, heading toward the benches where Blake is stood. “California is corrupting you, Maddie.”
“Eh, maybe a little.” She shrugs a shoulder and follows me.
Blake turns as I put my bag down and grins at me. “Abbi.”
“Blake.” I return his smile, albeit more hesitantly.
“So,” he leans against the wall, looking at me casually. “I heard Bianca is pairing us off today so we can choreograph our own dance. Something about her seeing how ready we really are for her class.”
“Where did you hear that?” I grab my water bottle, a bolt of fear shooting through my body.
Pairing. Choreographing. That means out of studio time with someone. One on one endless dancing with a guy.
A level of intimacy I’m not quite ready for.
“I … Er … She told me,” he admits with a shrug. “I came here to practice yesterday and she mentioned it then.”
“Oh.” I pause. “Has she paired us already?”
“No idea.” Blake shrugs and glances over my shoulder at Maddie.
“Oh, Blake, this is Maddie, my best friend. Maddie, Blake,” I introduce them and step to the side to change.
“Are you joining the class?” Blake asks her.
She bursts into laughter. “God no. I can’t dance. I’m just here to watch.”
“The studio would need closing down if Maddie tried to dance,” I mutter, tying the ribbons on my shoes.
“Shut up,” she repli es, laughing a little. Grinning at her, I back toward the barre . Blake follows, and we take our usual places at the back of the studio.
Bianca strolls into the large room with delicate yet purposeful steps, and sto ps in front of us, standing in first position. Her clasped hands hover in front of her stomach as her eyes comb across us, and I feel the heat of her stare scrutinizing every single person here.
“ Pas de deux .” Her words are sharp and short, cutting through the silence that comes with her presence. “A couple. At Juilliard, not only will you be expected to dance to perfection as an individual, but also as a couple. If you can’t do that, you need to go away, learn how to, and then come back. Remember, I’m here to hone your skills, not teach you new ones.
“ That said, after watching you
I smile at her, and we get into the taxi waiting outside to take us across the bridge to Bianca’s studio. The journey is quick, and when we get there, Maddie stops and stares at the small building housing the studio.
“It’s … Different than I expected,” she hedges.
I raise an eyebrow at her. “What? Did you expect Juilliard?”
“Not exactly. But Juilliard is so … Pretty. And this is, well, not.”
I back against the door and push it open, a small, knowing smile on my face. “You haven’t seen the inside yet.”
She wordlessly follows me down the small corridor leading to the main studio. I glance back to see her eyes widen and her jaw drop open. I know she’s experiencing what I did when I walked into Bianca’s studio for the first time – complete and utter disbelief that a studio so professional and perfect could be in such a bland-looking building.
“Damn,” she whispers. “This is some studio.” Her eyes travel across it, drinking in every inch of the room, before resting on the corner. “Oh, hot damn! ”
I follow her gaze and my eyes land on Blake’s back. If the messy brown hair combined with the fact he’s early isn’t a giveaway it’s him, it’s the way he stands. Strong and tall without a hint of a slouch. His posture is almost regal, and my gaze skirts up and down his body before I realize what I’m doing and pull it away.
“Is that the British guy?” Maddie nudges my arm. “Wait, it is. You’re drooling!”
I snap my head round to look at her. “I am so not!”
She studies my face for a second and smirks. “Just a little. God, I don’t blame you.”
“You have a boyfriend,” I remind her.
“I can look, Abbi. Especially when that is the view.”
I roll my eyes, heading toward the benches where Blake is stood. “California is corrupting you, Maddie.”
“Eh, maybe a little.” She shrugs a shoulder and follows me.
Blake turns as I put my bag down and grins at me. “Abbi.”
“Blake.” I return his smile, albeit more hesitantly.
“So,” he leans against the wall, looking at me casually. “I heard Bianca is pairing us off today so we can choreograph our own dance. Something about her seeing how ready we really are for her class.”
“Where did you hear that?” I grab my water bottle, a bolt of fear shooting through my body.
Pairing. Choreographing. That means out of studio time with someone. One on one endless dancing with a guy.
A level of intimacy I’m not quite ready for.
“I … Er … She told me,” he admits with a shrug. “I came here to practice yesterday and she mentioned it then.”
“Oh.” I pause. “Has she paired us already?”
“No idea.” Blake shrugs and glances over my shoulder at Maddie.
“Oh, Blake, this is Maddie, my best friend. Maddie, Blake,” I introduce them and step to the side to change.
“Are you joining the class?” Blake asks her.
She bursts into laughter. “God no. I can’t dance. I’m just here to watch.”
“The studio would need closing down if Maddie tried to dance,” I mutter, tying the ribbons on my shoes.
“Shut up,” she repli es, laughing a little. Grinning at her, I back toward the barre . Blake follows, and we take our usual places at the back of the studio.
Bianca strolls into the large room with delicate yet purposeful steps, and sto ps in front of us, standing in first position. Her clasped hands hover in front of her stomach as her eyes comb across us, and I feel the heat of her stare scrutinizing every single person here.
“ Pas de deux .” Her words are sharp and short, cutting through the silence that comes with her presence. “A couple. At Juilliard, not only will you be expected to dance to perfection as an individual, but also as a couple. If you can’t do that, you need to go away, learn how to, and then come back. Remember, I’m here to hone your skills, not teach you new ones.
“ That said, after watching you
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