Chapter Five
It was probably bad that he thought of her when he did this. Definitely bad. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t conjure a face that wasn’t Mina’s, hips that didn’t swell softly from her short, trim waist, lips that weren’t full and deliciously curved.
Unbidden, an image of her taking him into her mouth clouded his mind, her expression full of promise. He moaned and shut his eyes. Maybe, if he gave himself over to the fantasy, didn’t let his mind take over, he could get off this way…
No, no, no…dammit! No!
He tried to re-focus his thoughts, change their course, but it was too late: Mina’s rich brown irises faded to soulless, chalky blue. Her lips thinned and turned sinister, muttering threats instead of promises. Her hands aged and paled, holding him captive rather than willing. He cursed—at his lost erection, at his stupid, stupid vulnerability—and his lashes flew apart despite the hot water running over his face. It stung like hell, but at least it was real.
Blinking rapidly, he bent his head, letting the swirl of the water down the drain ground him to time and place. He felt the sting of tears and swallowed against the nauseating shame that always came with those memories. The ones he could control if he stuck to what was safe.
Safe was Mina’s legs, long and limber, hiked over his shoulders, her arms pinned above her head as his thrusts sent her breasts bouncing in a tantalizing rhythm.
Fuck yes. He sprung to life again in his hand. That’s it…
He gasped, gripping himself harder, jerking himself faster, as if the rapid motion could propel him further from the pain.
It was working.
“Yes,” he sighed with relief, hunching over.
Sultry brown eyes that had glared at him in annoyance just hours ago were glazed over in his fantasy now, and those angry French oaths softened to delirious moans in his ear.
His body convulsed with such force, his palm shot forward, planted against the tile for purchase as pleasure rippled through every limb. Squeezing his eyes shut, his ass clenched tight and his toes curled as evidence of his release joined the hot stream of water swirling down the drain. He had to blink several times to clear away the hazy darkness and tiny flashing bulbs. His heart beat out of control, his flaring nostrils sucking in hot water each time he breathed.
“Jesus.”
It was a good thing the world wasn’t crashing down around him, or he’d be screwed. He could hardly stand up straight, let alone run. The thought sent him into a fit of laughter that echoed off the shower walls.
He turned his face up directly into the spray.
Fucking hysteria.
Maybe, but the nightmare was forgotten.
*
Non.
She wasn’t going to do it. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Even as the warm pulse intensified until it felt like someone was beating a war drum in her clit. Even as that traitorous clit swelled until she was shoving her fist between her thighs and clamping them together in agony.
The hotel bed was cushy and big and inviting…and Mina tossed and turned across every centimeter. She dreamed of arrogant lips pressed against her inner thighs, and a tongue too busy circling her clit to annoy her with flippant remarks. When he moved his lips to murmur (probably something filthy), she snatched up handfuls of his glorious hair and pushed his face against her.
She woke up with her fists full of sheets, panting from throbbing so intense, simply turning onto her stomach was her undoing. Her breasts were crushed deliciously beneath her weight, her panties brushing her clit with enough friction to send her muscles fluttering uncontrollably. She buried her face in the pillows to muffle her frustrated scream, holding her hips still because she refused to give in and press herself into the bedding for the ultimate release.
When it was over, the emptiness felt bigger. Wider. She squirmed, yearning emanating from her abdomen to her core until she couldn’t take it anymore. Sitting up in bed, she reached for her phone. The voice on the other end was soft and groggy.
“Allô?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Mina?” Sofie asked. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s…I feel…” She couldn’t think. How was she supposed to put her frustration into words? She couldn’t understand it herself. Her sigh was shallow and shaken. “Merde! I don’t know!”
“It’s four in the morning here, Mina. I need you to try.”
“It’s hard.”
“You knew it would be.”
“Oui, but it’s not just the choreography, it’s…I don’t think it’s working out. We’re so different. His teaching style…It’s like he doesn’t know how to use his words. Always touching me. Always saying these things…”
She broke off as Sophie’s laughter pierced through the phone.
“Why are you laughing? I’m serious.”
“Believe me, I know,” Sophie said. “Why do you sound so raspy?”
“It’s the singing,” Mina explained. “I spend all day running lines and rehearsing with the other principals… and then I eat if there’s time. Then, I change my clothes and go back to the studio to rehearse the death trap he calls ‘choreography.’ I had to see my voice coach tonight. So, I’m raspy.”
“Sounds brutal. So what things is he saying?”
“I-what?”
“I just wonder how Sleep Orgasm Guy is able to say things without using his words. These things that have you not sleeping.”
“Will you stop calling him that?! I didn’t even want to…My body just does it all by itself.”
“Wait a minute, are you abstaining in defiance?”
It was quiet on Mina’s end, and Sophie snickered. “No wonder you’re so uptight. It’s not like he can see you, Mina…Now what things?”
“Stupid things, okay? Like calm down, petite, you can do this, petite, it’s okay petite. Petite this, petite that. Petite petite PETITE!”
“You’re right, he’s a monster.” Sophie audibly choked back another laugh. “And you like him.”
“WHAT?! Are you even listening to me?”
“Mina, partners touch us all the time—some of the lifts we do are probably illegal in certain countries.”
“Oui, I know this, but-”
“And his dance style is new to you, you need a lot of help.”
“Yes, but he’s such a…connard…and-”
“And he gives you sleep orgasms.”
Mina cursed.
“That’s what this is about,” Sophie insisted. “He’s touching you all day and he’s giving you sleep orgasms and you’re calling me, you horny little toad!”
“Sophie!”
“Admit it!”
“I-FINE. He’s making me crazy, okay? I’m not even sure I can do these things…It feels like my body is twisting into pretzels all day. And then he’s touching me, and I swear he’s trying to provoke me…”
Sophie’s snort-choke blew through the phone.
“I hope you sprain something from trying not to laugh at my misery,” Mina snapped.
“If it’s any consolation, I’m heartbroken for you. What happened?”
Mina groaned.
“Mina…”
“I got upset. I-might have lost my temper.”
“Mina!”
“I know.”
“He’s your teacher.”
“I know, okay? I’m so embarrassed. I don’t know what got into me, but it can’t happen again.”
Sophie couldn’t contain her laughter now.
“I shouldn’t have called,” Mina moped. “I’m going to sleep.”
“I’ll come. Okay? Next week, I’ll come and stay with you. We’ll wear little raspberry berets, you know, like the Prince song? We’ll eat American fries and pretend to get lost, so we can seduce stupide unsuspecting men with our accents.”
Mina’s heart rate calmed at the idea. “You will?”
“Mmhmm, just do me a favor, okay?”
“What?”
“Get yourself off, get some sleep, and call me when you’re not insane.”
*
Zack felt great.
Breakfast was the same as always: over-easy eggs, turkey sausage, coffee, fresh-pressed orange juice—but the umami gods must have been smiling down on him because it tasted like Michelin greatness. His endorphins were through the roof after his morning workout, and he’d even caught Wilson, the scatting street performer he’d admired since he was a kid, doing a rock and roll cover on his guitar in the subway. The old man’s voice was pure, gritty soul, and he’d let go his guitar every so often to pat rhythmically against his thighs, chest, or an upturned bucket—a one-man show. Wilson had always been good luck. Every time Zack saw him, he had a good day.
“Good to see you, man.” Zack gripped Wilson’s hand briefly.
“Back from the left coast, I see.” Wilson gave a toothy grin. “I tol’ you you’d be back. The whole world is in New York City. Can’t get that nowhere else.”
“You never lie.” Zack tossed cash into the old man’s battered guitar case. “Whenever you’re ready to stop busking and make some real money for your brilliance, you know where to find me.”
“Yeeaaahhh, man,” Wilson intoned. “I know.”
Zack practically strutted up the subway steps to the contemporary class he was teaching two days a week. His cell vibrated just as he walked through the dance theater’s doors. Reading the caller ID, he smiled. “You ready, Coach?”
“I’m never not!” Alex said. “But this is your baby. I’m just here to feed it, burp it, and keep it from hurting itself.”
Zack chuckled. “You have no idea.”
“Hiccups already?”
“Little ones, but I expected them. Nerves. I think having you there today will help us out a lot.”
“Why is today significant?”
Zack was walking past a warm-up class that very moment and spotted his compact ball of wire finishing her stretches on the studio floor. She moved slowly and carefully, working each muscle to insure against injury. “I’m introducing some floor work today,” he said, watching through the door as Mina rose to take her place at the barre. “No one does floor work like you. We could use your expertise.”
“Well, I look forward to it.”
“Thanks, Coach. See you soon.”
Zack sensed the tension in the studio even from outside its doors. Wilhelmina Allende was a superstar ballerina, but an outsider. This company had its own stars, and even the instructor seemed wary, waiting to see if the “Jewel of the Palais Garnier” was a diva, or if she’d respect the hierarchy of a company to which she did not belong.
To everyone’s obvious surprise, including his own, Mina didn’t take a place in the center. Instead, she smiled graciously and moved to the end of line, where she could better observe. And learn. The instructor’s expression softened in approval.
You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, petite?
He was quickly losing count of her many facets, and as he continued to his own class, he decided he liked that about her. He liked that a lot.
*
Second Rehearsal…3 Weeks Before the Tonys…7:45 pm
Zackary Coen was slinging Mina into the air…and then down between his legs…up and down, up and down…and her stomach dropped every time. She was far too stiff, she knew it, but she couldn’t help it.
“Stop!” Alex barked, and they froze at his command.
Shooting her hands out in front of her, she gripped Zack’s thighs for dear life, her head mere centimeters from the floor.
Alex sucked his teeth. “Mina, my dear, I’m having visions of your lovely head smashing like a melon on the studio floor.”
“I’m not working up a sweat for nothing,” Zack gritted. The room blurred as he twirled her at the waist in a mid-air cartwheel to set her upright again. “Your death grip wasn’t necessary.”
She glared at him over her shoulder, and he retaliated by holding her there for a second, letting her dangle a bit for good measure before setting her back on her feet. Alex moved between them, she suspected, to separate them like they were quarreling toddlers, forcing their attention to their coach.
“Your lines are gorgeous, Mina.” He used the lightest touch of his fingers at each of her arms to nudge them into an arc above her head. “Your extension goes to the tips of your fingers and toes. But in this piece, when the two of you are together…” Stepping aside, he signaled for them to get back into position. Zack immediately took Alex’s place behind her, carefully leaving space for her to extend her leg behind her. “…it’s not about the line, but the shape.”
At Alex’s cue, Zack plucked her from the floor by her waist and lifted her to his shoulders.
“There, now reach, Mina,” Alex said.
Her back arched, and her abs pulled taut as a wire, her body contorting until the leg she’d lifted behind her formed a near-perfect circle with her arms.
“And five…six…seven…now bring her down, Zack—slowly this time…”
Zack did as instructed, but her stomach dropped again, and her arms flew out in an instinctive defense against the floor.
“Hold.” Alex stepped forward.
Zack hugged her in sixty-nine, her head between his legs, their torsos bent over the floor. Her muscles ached with tension, but thankfully Alex moved quickly to correct her arms, drawing them behind her.
“Your hands should be grabbing that ankle.” Alex stepped back again, nodding when Mina adjusted. “And up again.”
Zack swept her back onto his shoulders and repeated the motion, but her arms went right back to the floor again.
Merde.
“Stop.” Alex folded his arms across his chest, waiting as Zack set her on her feet again.
Struggling to catch her breath, fresh sweat collecting on her skin and seeping through her clothes, she looked anywhere but at Zack.
“There is a disconnect.” Alex cut his eyes between them. “Consequently, this move looks as dangerous as it is. It should look daring, but effortless. Otherwise, its impact is lost. Mina, when you bring your arms down like that, your body language screams distrust. If you don’t trust him to hold you, the audience won’t either.”
Zack scoffed. “Oh, she trusts me.”
Mina looked at him in disbelief.
“You knew who I was when we met, and the kind of work that I do,” he continued. “You wouldn’t have signed on for this if I’d spent my career dropping my partners. I could keep tossing you in the air and catching you for two more hours and you would still be afraid. Because you don’t trust yourself.”
Her body went stiff and her gaze shot back up to his. The same uncanny familiarity that had come over her the night they’d met returned, like a breath blowing through her. It had been irrational at the time—absolutely insane—to think it could have been Étienne there with her outside the opera house. His presence had felt so strong.
It had been there when she and Zack danced for Alex’s class. Now here it was again. His tone was eerily similar, too. Almost painfully direct, but with a softness in its intent that reminded her of Étienne. And Dieu, those words. The second they left Zack’s mouth, a fourteen-year-old memory flooded her brain…the first time she’d met Étienne Lemaire:
“The barre is for balance, Mina. It’s not life support,” Madame said brusquely. “Start on both legs…You must get your legs higher.”
Madame snatched Mina’s leg up higher, and Mina tried not to wince. She tried not to react at all, which would have been insolent. But no matter how hard she tried, Mina couldn’t seem to please her.
“Stop leaning back, Mina…Why are your arms so perky? What is that, gymnastics? You’re not taking this seriously.”
Mina’s face burned with humiliation. She wanted to cry. This was Third Section, after all, where true rivalry was born, where the rivalry would continue each year, as only two-to-four of the best moved up. It was a machine that crushed the weak, and right now, Mina felt very much like a weak link.
“You have to trust yourself,” a boy’s voice came from behind her, his breath tickling her neck. But she did not dare turn around. Whoever he was, he risked his own neck for talking during class, even in his hushed tone. “You made it to this lovely little hell, didn’t you, you witch?” he teased. “So…you can do anything.”
The memory dissipated, replaced by two very real bemused expressions.
“Do you need to take five?” Alex asked.
Merde, he thinks I’m insane.
“Non, I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head. “I was just…remembering something.”
Zack stared at her, obviously wondering what sort of memory made someone disappear from the planet for several seconds.
“I suggest we try some trust-building exercises.” Alex gave Zack a strange look.
“That’s not necessary,” Mina quickly objected. “Really, I can go again.”
“No, he’s right,” Zack said. “The lifts you’re used to aren’t this risky. We have to get you comfortable before we can move on.”
“What are we going to do?” she asked skeptically, crossing her arms over her chest. “Trust falls?”
Alex cleared his throat, sounding suspiciously like he was stifling laughter. “Oh, my dear, you’re about to be introduced to the Coen method of breaking in new dancers.” He lifted his hands. “Godspeed.”
Zack’s eyes locked on Mina’s confused ones. “I’m gonna throw you.”
“Throw me what?”
Something was obviously clawing at Alex’s throat, because the man was coughing uncontrollably now. Mina frowned at him, then at Zack. His obnoxious grin was all she needed to finally comprehend what he’d said.
“You can’t be serious!” she gasped, stepping back instinctively.
“You’ll be fine.” He spoke carefully, stepping toward her. He stalked her like that until they’d reached the far end of the space. He was a foot in front of her. There was nowhere left for her to run. Casting a pointed look at her feet, he grinned into her face. “I’m sure those…foot underwear you’re wearing will perform just fine.”
“You can’t intimidate me into this!” she spat, deliberately looking past him at Alex. “Per your suggestion, I train my upper body every morning. I see a physical therapist every afternoon. So, you see, this is really not necessary.”
“Those are for pussies, petite,” Zack whispered, insulting her protective footwear again. “It’s like cheating…in little baby toe thongs.”
He was baiting her, manipulating her so she’d give him what he wanted. Fine. Let him. If she died from the ordeal, she’d haunt him the rest of his arrogant days. Straightening her spine, her eyes blew flames into his. “Throw me.”
“Now, remember,” Alex said. “In classical ballet, we strive to be light and airy, but in parts of this piece, we will deliberately use gravity to our advantage.”
Zack’s fingers flexed at Mina’s sides in silent encouragement, but the increased pressure only heightened her awareness of him and she stiffened again.
“Relax,” he said softly.
She’d been so preoccupied with trying to stay alive during their lifts earlier that his proximity hadn’t distracted her overmuch, but now her nerve endings buzzed with its effect…and with the urge to release her tongue from her teeth and lash him with it.
“Once you’re in the air,” Alex was saying, “do what feels natural. Form any shape you like. Your goal is simply to land…” He angled his head. “Or fall, tastefully. And…go.”
She took a deep breath.
“On three,” Zack said. “One…two…”
He flung her into the air with a powerful lift-shove, propelling her about a quarter of the way across the studio. It was such a shock, the only thing that crossed her mind was the fact that he’d tricked her, the connard. And then she was falling…way too fast.
“Merde!” she cried out angrily, her right side taking most of the impact.
Alex brought his hand to his mouth, clearly questioning the wisdom of this activity for the first time. Mina imagined smoke coming from her nostrils. She could take a sip of kerosene and incinerate Zack with a well-aimed huff. He lifted a brow at her in challenge.
“Again,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Eyes open, Mina.” Alex waited for them to get into position again. “There is no fear of the unexpected. The floor is where you begin, and it is where you will end. You decide how.”
She nodded, and Zack threw her again. This time, her butt cushioned her fall.
“Don’t worry about momentum, Mina. He’s giving you that. You just move. Again.”
There was hardly any time to think before Zack tossed her again. So, she followed her instincts, bending her body into a bow pointing left, stretching her sore right side. Her arms were lifted above her head, her hands grabbing her wrists, her legs stretched into a perfect line all the way to the tips of her toes. Landing on her feet this time, she couldn’t hide her triumphant smile.
“Yes!” Alex cried. “Stunning lines but relax more. You don’t need to point those toes.”
“Better,” Zack murmured in her ear with pride. “But this time, think less, okay?”
“Sure, I’ll just beat my chest and yell like a cave ma-ooh!”
She was in the air again before she could finish her thought. Half her time was wasted in shock, so all she could manage before a less-than-graceful landing was a quick split.
“Don’t stand there preening, Zack,” Alex said. “And don’t just chuck her like a used cigarette. I want her to fly.”
So, she did. Over, and over, and over, and over again.
“Okay, petite,” Zack said as she turned her back to him for the dozenth time. They were both sweaty and breathing like marathon runners. “Let’s kick this up a notch.”
Bending into a lunge, he used his legs like springs for more momentum into the launch. That’s exactly what she felt like, a little rocket being sent straight up into the atmosphere. She was grateful she’d breathed into it this time, because all her energy was focused on her position as soon as she was in the air.
The height made her breathless. She couldn’t worry about her landing and choreograph a single, mid-air movement at the same time. It was impossible. In a millisecond, her body responded to her mind’s command, and she was spinning. One…two complete turns with her arms hugged close in front of her. Her legs bent for the landing and her arms whipped out, her palms up, her head back.
It was silent when she stood upright again. Her nostrils worked overtime to accommodate her breaths, and she licked her moisture-deprived lips. Alex was frozen in disbelief, almost like a caricature. When she looked at Zack, she knew she’d nailed it, and heat filled her face with her smile.
“Did you just…was that a double tour?” he asked, hoarse with shock.
“What?” She was still catching her breath. “You said, ‘kick it up,’ oui?”
Zack shook his head, his mouth still slack as he and Alex stared at each other.
Alex found his voice first. “Take five. I think we’re ready for some floor work.”
After four more repetitions of the lift, Zack felt things were finally starting to take shape. The choreography looked daring and effortless. Alex’s face muscles were doing a poor job of hiding his victory celebration. It was a small victory, though. They still had work to do.
“Okay,” said Alex. “Now that it’s technically sound, let’s dress it up.”
He signaled for them to get back into position, with Mina’s leg lifted behind her, and Zack’s hands at her waist.
“And, five…six…seven…bring her down…and stop.”
Zack brought Mina halfway down from the lift, her face at his abdomen, her…treasures…in his face. Not my most brilliant choreography, he groaned inwardly. He drew her musky scent into his nose and throat with every deep and frequent breath. Jesus Christ.
“This pas de deux is the most significant in the entire production,” Alex said. “You must show how hopelessly in love you are, against all that is good and proper. Because you are, Mina, after all, a courtesan. And so, you have a unique set of skills…” Taking Mina’s hands, he brought them to Zack’s thighs, then stepped out of the way. “…As you come down, maybe caress here. Bring her down, Zack…yes, slowly…”
Mina ran her hands along his taut thighs slowly, before reaching up and back to clasp her ankle, her head between his legs.
“Yes!” Alex clapped. “Dear God, excellent, you two! That’s what the audience should see on your faces. Should feel. That urgency, that raw, desperate desire. And… up…Work with the natural tension of your movements…good. And hold…six…”
Zack couldn’t see Mina’s face, since they were posing in that cursed sixty-nine, hugging each other tightly, but it was a safe bet, since Alex hadn’t commanded them to do the move again, they were both convincing enough. Now they were stuck breathing each other in for the most awkward three counts they’d ever endured until Alex finally got to…
“…eight…and split…nice and slow. Good, Zack. Push her legs apart gently, caress that leg…and five…six…seven…”
Their bodies formed the T, holding the pose until their muscles cried out.
“Breathe through it,” Alex instructed. “I need to see every breath. Use it to paint the picture. No need to be subtle…good…and transition for the plank, nice and smooth…”
Zack moved upright again slowly, allowing Mina to lift her leg back up. They were perfectly aligned now, and with a quick twist of his arm around her waist, he spun her around so she faced forward, her legs hooked over his shoulders.
“Hold his hips here, Mina. It’ll support you and add that sensuality. Good…and down…”
Holding Mina’s knees, Zack bent to a sitting position on the floor. Her body curved with him, until he was lying flat on his back with her sitting on his stomach.
“Lovely, but it’s dragging a bit,” Alex said. “It should be smooth, but fast. Again.”
It was torture, but they did it once more, until Zack lay flat again, with Mina on his stomach.
“Good. Come up now, Mina.”
She stood, her feet on either side of his face, and bent at the waist sensually, bringing her face to Zack’s for a count.
“And five…use your hands, Mina.”
Dragging her hands up her body, she pantomimed the moment she flipped her flowing hair.
“And hold. Keep breathing. I want to see those chests rise and fall…Good.”
Zack wished he’d hurry up. From his vantage point, all he could see was leg…miles and miles of flawless leg…and the place where legs meet…
“Mina, breathe into it. Hug his head with your legs-”
Zack coughed.
“Don’t kill him, Mina…”
She shifted her stance a bit and Zack gulped for air.
“Better…No need for nerves. His body is there to support you. Arms, Zack.”
Zack lifted his arms in front of her, one hand gripping his wrist for reinforcement, the other flat against her tummy.
“Carefully now…and, down…”
Their muscles were locked, every inch of their bodies tense and vibrating. Breathing felt most difficult of all, because they needed to keep their bodies perfectly straight. Mina leaned forward, Zack’s hand stiff against her abdomen. Her legs hugged his head, anchoring her on her slow descent, until the soles of her feet began to leave the floor…
“Arms, Mina.”
She brought her arms down to her sides, and Zack felt her trembling with the loss of her extended arms to help her balance. He was demanding the most challenging show of strength she’d ever been tasked to do, but he knew she could do it. Every muscle was engaged, and she had to appear as though trapped in a slow free-fall. The more she leaned forward, the more level she was with the floor, suspended just inches above it.
Zack’s back arched deeper into a bow the more Mina’s body became parallel with the floor. His face was red between her legs, his muscles burning as he worked to keep his shoulders, butt and calves flat on the floor. With each millimeter, his arms lowered, and his hands moved lower on her abdomen. The force of her body dragged his forward some millimeters, but they were almost in a perfect plank.
“Good. Keep compensating, Zack. Don’t lose her center of—Shit!”
It happened so fast. The last thing Zack remembered was adjusting his arms and hands to Mina’s new center of gravity before they fell apart. She’d collapsed to the floor in a gasping heap, and then, lightning fast, one hundred and five pounds of solid prima ballerina muscle powered the slap that sent his head reeling. Sitting up, he blinked hard several times, holding his stinging cheek, flexing his jaw left and right.
“Dear God,” Alex said over and over, visibly cringing as a slew of shrill French epithets echoed off the walls.
“Mina.” Zack tried to get through to her, but his head was still ringing. “It’s not what you thi—I didn’t know my hand would end up there…Goddamn it, will you calm down?!”
Immediately, the studio fell quiet. Shaking as she was, he thought she might take another go at him.
“Apologies, Mina.” Alex wrung his hands. “These things are…unpredictable. I should have considered that outcome.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Zack stood to his feet. “It’s not unusual that I’ll have to hold you pretty intimately.” He massaged just beneath his left eye until the room was no longer blurry. “But maybe we should have done a few trust falls until we were more comfortable with each other.”
Mina looked horrified, like she’d turn to vapor and get sucked through the vents. “I-I’m sorry.”
Frankly, Zack was impressed she’d lasted so long before she flipped. Choreographers talked amongst themselves, and when he’d inquired about Mina, the consensus was, she’s brilliant, if a little…impassioned. Now here she was, exhausted, and he was pushing her to the brink of her comfort zone, then pushing her some more.
“I think that’s enough for today.”
The words had barely left Alex’s mouth before Mina crossed to the other side of the studio, hefted her gym bag over her shoulder, and fled the building.
Zack blew a long, exasperated breath, then glared at Alex. “’Twin souls with one body,’ huh?”
“Oh, don’t give me that!” Alex snapped in a rare outward show of annoyance. “I needed to inspire my students! My very young, impressionable students. And what you two did? It was-”
“Inspired,” Zack said dryly, massaging his aching jaw.
“Yes. And so is what you did today.” Alex gripped Zack’s shoulder briefly. “Let our firebird cool down. Tomorrow’s another day.”
Zack nodded.
Firebird.
Indeed.