I got home, confused by my reaction to Carlos. I had never experienced something like that. I wasn’t normally one who went crazy when she saw a man as attractive as that. That was Nat, not me.

Before Glen, Nat tried hooking me up with her friends and acquaintances. She thought it was a crime to stay single, always going from one relationship to another. But I didn’t care because I didn’t get all that hype. I never fell hard for anyone before Glen, who was the first to awaken something deep within me.

But now there was Carlos, and I couldn’t deny that I wanted that body of his close to mine. Damn, if he was all honed by muscle, I couldn’t even imagine what he packed inside his pants.

I slumped down on the couch and flipped through the TV channels, unable to find anything interesting that would keep my thoughts away from that latino god and his irresistible looks.

I had vowed to stay away from men, but there was something about Carlos that drew me in, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. After all, countless gorgeous women passed through the door of his studio, and I would bet my life savings he was exquisitely charming with all of them.

A nagging feeling spread through my chest. If there was something I hated, that was a womanizer, but was Carlos one? Was he the type who changed girls as frequently as he changed his underwear?

A commercial about a new dance show popped up on the screen, and it showed a guy who resembled Carlos dancing with a beautiful girl with mocha skin and long black hair. They smiled at each other, spinning and gliding around like there was no tomorrow, and once more, I wanted to experience it. I wanted to experience something like that brunette in Carlos’s arms earlier, but this wasn’t only about dancing.

This was also about Carlos. I had to be honest with myself and admit that I was impatient to see him again.

Because a part of me told me that anything could happen.

I reached for my phone and called Nat to tell her the great news about my hip, planning to go out with her and celebrate it with a few glasses of wine. It was long overdue.

The week flew by. I was really busy these days as work demanded I stay longer than usual to resolve some new issues. I was an assistant in a PR firm, and we had a lot of high-profile clients. It was too bad that some of those clients tended to make a mess in public, so we had to do damage control more often than not.

Work could be exhausting and stressful from time to time, but it paid well, and I had great colleagues. I’d missed working a lot during the first weeks of my recovery, and I’d been desperate to come back if only so I could take my mind off Glen.

On Friday night, I went to my first class, after taking forever deciding what to wear. I paid extra attention to my makeup, hoping I wasn’t too obvious.

When I arrived at the studio, there were already six women inside. Two of them were in their forties, and the rest of them were my age or younger. I didn’t miss how they looked at Carlos, who was currently talking to a redhead who could have easily been a model. She looked that good, and she stood a fraction too close to Carlos. Something that could only be described as jealousy twirled in my belly, and I dragged my gaze away from him.

“Hi,” I said to the group of girls and waved at them. “I’m Lindsey.”

“Hello, Lindsey,” they said in unison. I left my gym bag in the corner where the rest of the girls had left their stuff and went to join them.

“Are you feeling nervous?” a blonde, who was my age, asked me, looking a bit out of place.

Now that I thought about it… “Yes. I always wanted to dance, but I suffered a serious injury a couple of months ago, and it feels like I might easily mess something up. How about you? Are you nervous?”

“Absolutely. I have two left feet, and I have to learn salsa in a short time for the shoot I’m doing in two months. I’m an actress, but not much of a dancer.”

“Wow. That’s so cool.”

She shrugged her shoulders, smiling sheepishly at me. “I’m Amanda, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Amanda.”

She rubbed her tanned upper arm. “Nice to meet you too. I have to let you in on a secret.” She leaned closer to me. “I think I’ll embarrass the hell out of myself in this class. I’m that terrible of a dancer.”

“No one is a terrible dancer,” Carlos said, stopping next to us, and threw me a smile that paralyzed me for a second. He was so beautiful. “All it takes is practice and more practice,” he said to her, but he was looking at me. “Hello, Lindsey.” I shivered at my name on his lips, hardly resisting the urge to check him out.

Today, he wore gray sweatpants and a white tank top. His hair was messy, and I wanted to run my fingers through those silky waves. “Hey, Carlos.”

His smile bordered on seductive, and I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. His dark, dark eyes looked right into my soul. “I’m glad you decided to come here tonight.”

“I’m glad I was able to make it.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the confused look on Amanda’s face as she looked between Carlos and me. We didn’t look away from each other, the prolonged silence between us speaking more than any words could, and I could feel my whole body heating up.

“We’re waiting for three more girls, but when they arrive, we’ll start with a warm-up. Okay?” He was addressing all of us, but he had yet to look away from me, and I had to remind myself how to breathe.

“Sure,” a few girls replied, and Carlos went across the room to the music player.

“What was that?” Amanda whispered into my ear.

“What was what?” I played dumb.

“Let me tell you this. If a guy looked at me like that, I would jump into bed with him right away.”

Were my cheeks red earlier? Well, now they were burning. “I can’t deny that he’s hot.”

“Hot? He’s a stud! And it’s obvious that he’s into you.”

I scratched my neck, not believing her for a second. “Carlos? No way.”

“Yes, way. I mean, he eye-fucked you!” I glanced around us to see if anyone heard her loud whisper, but no one was even paying attention to us.

The last three girls arrived shortly after, and Carlos stopped in front of the mirrors, his glance sweeping over us, but I could swear it lingered a bit longer on me. I met Amanda’s gaze that said: “What did I tell you?”

I didn’t dare think that way. It was dangerous. Besides, he was obviously a female magnet. Almost everyone had stars in their eyes as they followed Carlos with their gazes, and if Carlos was to pick any of us, he could find much prettier and more interesting girls in this group than me.

This fact, however, didn’t prevent my heart from beating faster as I waited for him to start with the instructions, my thoughts going haywire.

He said something about the proper way to warm up, but I had a hard time paying attention to it, since Amanda’s words played in my mind repeatedly, and just for a short moment, I allowed myself to fantasize about him next to me.

“Okay, ladies. let’s stretch first. There won’t be any music as we practice our steps, but we’ll include it later.”

After a couple of stretches, Carlos introduced us to the basic steps.

“Let’s start with our left leg. One.” He made a step forward with his left leg and raised the heel of his right foot. “Two. And three.” He brought his left leg back to the neutral position. “We don’t count four. So, five.” He stepped back with his right leg. “Six. Seven.” He was back to his neutral position. “Do you follow me? Okay, so I’ll repeat this a few more times.”

I watched him move, admiring his fluid moves.

“Now, you try it.” I repeated his steps, looking at my sneakers. “Bien. Muy bien. Very good. Now, let’s do it a few more times, and let’s move a little faster each time.”

We followed him all together, repeating the steps faster and faster. I grinned at Amanda, who was biting her lip nervously, her expression telling me she expected to trip any moment. I stifled my laugh and looked at Carlos. His gaze was already on me, and I almost misstepped, my heart fluttering in my chest.

“Careful,” he told me and winked at me, and as if he pressed a button, my cheeks warmed.

“Okay, then. Now we’re going to do a right turn.”

Once more, he counted while showing us the steps, and we followed. I couldn’t look away from him as he taught us the beginner moves, my pulse picking up every time he stepped closer to me.

He was a good instructor. He was patient and he explained things well, and even Amanda, who claimed she was the world’s most terrible dancer, was becoming more relaxed as the class progressed. After half an hour, Carlos turned on the music, and I buzzed with energy when the rhythm of the salsa song started.

Carlos danced with each of the girls, starting out slowly and then faster, and I felt like I could watch him like this the whole day. Our eyes often met in the mirrors, and my stomach flipped in response each time. Calm down, girl. Just chill out.

He led the others so well, adjusting to their tempo and making it seem like salsa was easier than it looked in the beginning. Amanda managed to do all the steps without a mistake, laughing in triumph when they finished and he raised his thumbs up at her.

“Muy bien. Keep it up like this, and you’ll be a pro in no time,” he told her.

“I hope. It’s that or die trying!”

“Lindsey,” he said and stepped in front of me, and my skin tingled. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be.” I placed my left hand on his shoulder and intertwined my other hand with his left one, while he palmed me underneath my shoulder. I couldn’t stop the shiver that rocked me, and I hoped he wasn’t aware of how much his nearness affected me.

“Let’s start slowly. If you feel uncomfortable or in pain let me know, and we’ll stop.”

“Sure.”

The tension between us became almost tangible as we danced to the rhythm of the song, his eyes fixed on me, but I pretended not to notice it, watching the work of my feet. Or maybe I was just imagining it. Maybe he was looking at me like he looked at every woman, and I was seeing things that weren’t there.

“Careful, there,” he told me when I made a wrong step, holding me like I was made of glass and could break any moment. “Does anything hurt?” he asked.

“No. I’m fine. Thanks.”

He winked at me, and that was almost my undoing. His masculine scent created a whirlwind of sensations in the pit of my belly, and when we separated and he headed to the girl next to me, his gaze remained on me, silently conveying something I was afraid to admit.

Because it was impossible for him to like me. He was a player. Right? I certainly wasn’t the first.

Yes. That was it. If I kept repeating to myself how dangerous it was to consider him anything else than just my instructor, maybe my body would get the message, and I’d be able to be next to him without feeling like I needed his touch more than I needed my next breath.