Hooked #4 (The Hooked Romance Series - Book 4) (9 page)

“Especially that last part.” He winked at me and
leaned down, kissing me on the lips passionately, if only for a moment.

I was off. I rushed back toward my old dance studio
and burst into the well-lit arena. I glided toward the back where I found my
old dance outfits. I laced the shoes up tightly, all the way to just below my
knees. I flung myself forward onto my toes, and took small, graceful steps
toward the middle of the room. I began to twirl, to glide. I was presenting
myself for
all the
world to see. I was a dancer,
beyond anything else.

I made up different steps; I leaped into the air and
landed softly in a unique twirl. I felt the wave of the music around me—Mozart,
then Handel. And I felt alive—as alive as I’d felt the evening before, when
Drew and I had become a part of each other.
When we had
become one.

As I danced, a few of the on-lookers began to stop,
to peer into the window and gaze at me. I hardly noticed them, of course. I
continued to twirl, to wield myself gracefully with the music. I was dancing
with all the passion I could possibly feel, from my toes to the tips of my
fingers. Suddenly, I heard a banging on the window. I peered up and found some
of the little girls from my six-year-old class peering in at me, laughing at me
with such wild passion.

I leaped toward the door and opened it, allowing
them to enter. They were wearing little dresses, and a few of them still had
make-up on from the previous Halloween night. I didn’t give them any
instructions. Rather, they began to do all the beautiful choreography I’d
taught them during their young lives. They held in their giggles, and they
twirled; they leaped. I could hardly stand it, but I kept dancing, not wanting
to kill the magic.

A few moments later I heard the door open. Mel had
come in, holding baby Jackson in one hand. In her other hand, she held the bell
from the old reign of the dance studio. She placed it on the door and jangled
it slightly, allowing
me and the girls to cheer,
leaping into the air. I called into the air: “MOLLY SAYS DANCE IS OPEN FOR
BUSINESS!” And then I pushed my hands into the air many times. The girls
followed my lead.

A few of the other girls from the neighborhood
joined me, as well, allowing the bell to jangle each time. Some of them had
been in my class before; some of them were strangers. But we all indulged our
bodies in the glories of dance. A small girl came up to me and grabbed my hand,
spinning beneath me like a tiny Cinderella. I peered up at Mel, shaking my head
with incredulities. But Mel was busy talking to a parent, writing information down.
This parent, I understood, wanted to get her daughter involved with dance
class.

Mel nodded to me as the parent left with two of her
daughters, holding up the paper. She
grinned
a wide
grin. Jackson readjusted himself in her arms, bringing her to place him on the
wooden floor where he bobbed his arms in time, dancing to the music.

“He’ll be a dancer, just like his momma!” I called
to her.

“Or like his cousin!” She winked toward me as she
took another parent’s number down. Everyone wanted dance lessons, suddenly.
They couldn’t get enough of our passion.

The girls had begun to grow tired; some of them had
fled to school. Mel had begun to dance alongside me, as well, showing some of
the unique dance techniques she’d utilized in her day, at Loyola, when she’d
been top-tier ballerina.

“I would have killed to see you on that stage,” I
said to her, shaking my head back and forth.
“God.
You
are incredible.”

She flapped her hand in front of her face, shaking
her head. “If you think I’m good, you should look at yourself. You’re the most
incredible performer I’ve ever seen. There was a reason you didn’t make it in
the big leagues. These are the big leagues.
Right here.”
She gestured around her, nodding at all the young girls who danced, tossing
their slim arms into the air and feeling the weight of the 400-year-old music.

I nodded, smiling at her. I didn’t realize there
were tears in my eyes. Suddenly, I heard the bell jangle once more from the
door. Thinking we had another young girl dancer, I spun around. But there,
standing before us, was Drew. He was still wearing his construction hat; he was
still covered in dust from the bricks, from the debris. He walked toward me,
and the girls made a part in the great sea. They all snickered at him. He
nodded at them, grinning. “All right, ladies.
All right.”

He reached me. I found myself bringing my hand to
his head to remove his hat. I brushed some of the grime from his face and nose.

“You’re looking quite rugged these days, Drew.”
 

But he brought his hands forth and reached down,
holding me high in the air. In time to the music, we orchestrated our dance
techniques from the previous night. He brought me in beautiful circles around
his head and I allowed my limbs to glide gracefully. I landed back down on my
feet and flung myself into many twirls, making the girls around me screech,
wide-eyed. They loved the glamor of it—the drama.

Finally, my chest heaving, I leaned against him,
looking up at this man.
This man who was giving up so much of
himself to be mine.
“Thank you for the dance.”

“I’ll dance with you anytime you need,” he replied.

And then, to the shock of everyone, he leaned down
and kissed me deeply on the lips. The light shone in from the streets; the
Chicago traffic beeped and spurted outside. I wrapped my hand around his neck,
and I felt his beating heart within his chest. He brought his head back once
more, and rubbed his nose on mine. “I love you,” he murmured.

“And I love you,” I whispered back.

The girls rushed off to school, thoughts of Molly Says
Dance and romance swirling in their heads. Mel strapped Jackson into his
carriage and walked through the park, filled with a sense of motherly bliss.
And Drew and I—well.
We went home. We were caught up in the
mystery of each other. And that was enough.

THE
END

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This
book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are
products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not
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