Chapter Twelve
Practice had run late, and after he showered, he was in that in-between time where it was too late to go home before he was supposed to be meet Isabelle, but too early to go straight there. Elliot came around the corner while Garret stood there indecisively.
“You’ll never guess what Coach just told me.”
“What?”
“There are two Texas schools that want me to visit.”
“Dude, that’s awesome.” They fist bumped. “I told you.”
“Yeah, I guess you were right.” He glanced around the empty locker room. “What are you still doing here, anyway?”
He shrugged. “Not enough time to go home before I have to be at the dance studio.”
“You’re still taking lessons?”
He nodded. “Can you keep a secret?”
“You know I can.”
“I’m going to dance with Isabelle in their show.”
Elliot grinned. “Get out.”
“No, really.”
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“They needed somebody, and my game has improved since I started taking lessons, so I figured it wouldn’t kill me to help them out.”
“Who’s them?”
“Isabelle and her dance teacher.”
He raised his brows. “Oh, I get it. Wouldn’t it be easier, and a lot less embarrassing, to just nail her and move on?”
Garret leaped at him and narrowly stopped himself from punching his best friend in the face. “It’s not like that.”
Elliot held his hands up in surrender. “Dude, you do what you gotta do, but remember that I warned you. That girl is bad news. Once she gets what she wants out of you, she’ll dump you and never look back.”
“Why do you hate her so much?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, I don’t hate her, but I don’t see any way this is going to end well for you. I’m pretty sure her father isn’t going to let her date a guy from our side of town. Why risk complete humiliation when half the girls in the school are chasing after you?”
Because he didn’t want any of those other girls. Elliot might well be right, but he wasn’t going to give up so easily. “Thanks for having my back, man.”
“I hope I’m wrong.” Elliot filled his checks with air and blew out a huge breath. “I didn’t plan to dump on you today, but you should probably know that some of the guys are grumbling about Isabelle.”
He stiffened. “What are they saying?”
“That she’s distracting you. The most difficult part of our schedule is at the beginning of the season, and they’re afraid you’re focused on her instead of the team. That she’s not part of our world, and you should find someone who fits in better and understands that football is your priority.”
White hot anger pooled in his chest. “Will you do me a favor?”
“Of course.”
“The next time you hear anybody say anything about Isabelle, tell them to come talk to me.”
He turned and slammed his fist into one of the lockers, leaving a huge dent in the metal door. It wasn’t until he got to his car that he noticed he’d split open his knuckle. It happened pretty regularly on the field. He opened the trunk and took out his first aid kit so he could apply plaster to stop the bleeding.
It was a short drive to the studio, but it was more than enough time to convince himself he probably shouldn’t have left the field during the game to go talk to Isabelle. But aside from that mistake, they had no reason to think she was distracting him. He’d never been more focused on the team and making sure they had an undefeated season. Nobody wanted a scholarship more than he did.
He pulled into a parking space and tried to concentrate on their rehearsal. The videos he’d watched over and over again ran through his head as he entered the dance studio. Now that he understood how partnering worked, he hoped he could help Isabelle obtain her dream just like she was helping him. The things she’d taught him, like pushing off properly and keeping his body aligned, had really made a difference on the field. People were noticing, and with luck, a scout from the north might hear about him. His teammates had noticed the difference in him this year, too, and were asking him to reveal his secrets. Fat chance of that, since they were complaining about Isabelle.
It wasn’t quite time for their rehearsal, so he glanced into each room until he found her teaching in Studio Four. They usually closed the curtains during classes, but today they were open, so he stopped next to two moms who were watching. Isabelle smiled and spoke to one of the girls, who nodded. Then she knelt and took a hold of her foot to position it correctly. He knew what that was like. A shiver went up his spine at the thought of her hands touching him.
The girls kept practicing the same turn over and over again, and Isabelle continued to encourage them and make adjustments when needed. It was clear they all adored her and probably looked up to her. Here, she was so confident and outgoing, but the opposite was true at school. He got it, though. There was no place he was more comfortable than on the football field.
She was so different than the desperate girl who had forced him to dance with her that he didn’t know what to think anymore. Aside from that one mistake, she’d become a good friend. Other than Elliot, he probably talked to her more than anyone else, but given their past and the fact that they were trying to follow two very different paths, he couldn’t decide if it made sense to try to turn their relationship into something more, or if it would be better to just go their separate ways after the performance.
“Garret, you’re here early,” Lauren said.
He turned away from the window. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”
“If you want, we could get started now, and Izzy will join us when her class ends in a few minutes.”
It would be weird to be in a studio without Isabelle, but it couldn’t hurt to get more practice. He followed her down the hall. She flipped on the lights and turned to him.
“Are you getting more comfortable with the dancing?”
“Isabelle showed me partnering videos online, and I’ve watched them several times, so I feel like I understand what I need to do.”
“Leave it to Izzy to come up with the idea. I should’ve thought of it myself.”
He shrugged. “I’m a lot less nervous now that I realize it’s my job to make her look good. I don’t have to do any real dancing.”
Her smile dropped, and his stomach went along with it. “That’s not entirely true. We were hoping maybe we could talk you into doing a short solo during the performance.”
“Look, I’m willing to do what I can to help Isabelle, but embarrassing myself in front of an audience isn’t on my list of things to do.”
She dropped the teacher glare on him. Next he’d get sent to the principal.
“Please just think about it. I’ve already choreographed the dance. It’s only thirty seconds. You’ll just walk out and then do a few leaps and maybe a turn or two, and then the partnering will start.”
Thirty seconds could be an eternity in football. “What do you mean by choreography? I’m still working on the five positions, and I’m not very limber.”
“You can do a single pirouette, right?”
“More or less.”
“And I was thinking of some unconventional leaps. This is our own show, so there’s nothing specific we have to include. Normally, we let the male lead choreograph his own solo.”
“I’m not trying to be difficult, but I don’t see this working out for any of us.”
Lauren sighed. “The audience will expect the male lead to have a solo. It’s standard. Let’s just try it, and if you’re not comfortable, we won’t do it.”
He supposed that would be the easiest way to end the madness. Once he did a few leaps, she’d realize it was a bad idea. “All right.”
“Thank you. I’ll give you a few minutes to stretch, then let’s see what we’ve got.”
He went through all of the stretches they usually did before his lessons, and Lauren and Isabelle were both still MIA. Grabbing his phone, he pulled up the videos he’d watched with her and found one that showed a guy named Mikhail Baryshnikov dancing. Dang. The dude could jump. Some of the leaps went almost straight up and didn’t look all that hard. Since the ladies still hadn’t shown up for their partnering lesson, he decided to try one.
Everything Isabelle had taught him about jumping for football went through his head. Keep everything aligned and your weight centered on the ball of your foot. He took a running step and pushed off, attempting to imitate a leap where the Russian dude had kept one leg straight and bent the other knee. He landed on both feet, but otherwise it wasn’t too bad.
After watching another video clip, he decided to try another one where he bent his knees to the side and crossed his feet. The leap part worked, but he didn’t get his feet down fast enough and fell back onto his butt. On the second try he overcorrected and didn’t get his feet up high enough. Damn. This should be easy for him. He didn’t even have to worry about trying to catch a football while doing it.
The door to the studio opened and Isabelle and Lauren came in grinning.
He put his hands on his hips. What’s going on? “What’s up?”
“You.” Isabelle dissolved into giggles.
Crap. They’d been watching him through the window. “How long have you been spying on me?”
“Since you started doing leaps. Where did you get the idea?”
“I was watching this Russian dude.” He showed her his phone.
“Baryshnikov? He’s like the best male dancer possibly ever, and is famous for his leaping.”
“Go big or go home.”
“Is that your motto?”
“Pretty much.” He shrugged. “That’s why I’m so uncomfortable with this dance stuff. There’s no chance I’ll ever be the best.”
“But if we pull off this performance, you’ll be my hero.”
A current shot through him. She didn’t smile or laugh after she said it. Her gorgeous bluish-purple eyes met and held his, and he had to stop himself from reaching out to her.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll do my best.”
Lauren moved from the doorway where she’d watched their exchange. “I think you had the right idea, Garret. Keep practicing and figure out what leg positions are the easiest for you to land. Will you two work on that?” She opened a notebook and glanced through a few pages. “Okay, today I want to work on lifts. They’re the hardest thing you’ll do, so we need to spend the most time on them. Let’s start with something simple. How about an arabesque lift?”
Garret raised a brow. “I have no idea what that is.”
“I’ll demonstrate.” Isabelle went up on her left toes with her right leg straight back and her right arm parallel to it, then her left arm straight out in front of her and pointed slightly up.
Lauren described how to hold Isabelle then nodded to Garret.
“Like this?” He placed his right hand on her waist and his left palm under her outstretched leg and hoped neither of his hands would end up somewhere inappropriate if they slipped. His pulse sped up the moment he touched her. Her honeysuckle scent surrounded him, and he had to stop himself from leaning closer to her.
“Good. Now, bend your knees and lift her straight up over your head.”
At first he was afraid he’d drop her, but she stayed perfectly still while he adjusted the pressure against her thigh and tried not to let his fingers dig into her waist while he held her up. He’d been right that she wasn’t heavy, but she was so stretched out it was harder to keep her balanced than he had expected.
Lauren smiled. “Good. Make sure you put her down on her foot so she’s on pointe. That’s important, depending on what movement she performs next.”
Isabelle beamed. “That was good for your first try.”
“I didn’t drop you, so I count that as a win.”
“Do it again.” She watched closely. “Remember that when you lift her, you’re not holding Izzy. You’re providing a place for her to sit. Or in this case, rest on your hands.”
Under different circumstances, that wouldn’t sound appropriate. He definitely hadn’t been thinking of it like that. It was still a bit terrifying to think he might let her fall and get hurt.
He wasn’t sure what would be worse. Dropping her, or giving in to his desire to kiss her. He’d been attracted to her from the start, but touching her all the time was definitely challenging his control, and being allowed to touch her in places that were normally off limits was too big of a temptation, especially since she’d never given him any real sign she was interested in him for anything besides ballet.
They practiced it a few more times, and he was feeling more confident he could keep from dropping her, but the chance of him spontaneously kissing her grew every time he touched her. While the ladies talked about what else to do, he grabbed a towel from his bag and wiped the sweat off his face.
This was a lot harder than he’d expected, both physically and mentally. He lifted weights all the time, but he was using different muscles to lift her than he did in football, and his arms were going to feel the pain from this in the morning. He needed to ask their trainer for more exercises to strengthen his triceps.
Lauren looked up from her clipboard. “Izzy, what do you think about sissonnes?” They discussed the pros and cons of various dance moves while he waited.
Lauren glanced at the clock. “I have a private lesson in five minutes, so you two are on your own.”
She exited the room and they were left with awkward silence.
Garret hooked his thumbs over the waistband of his sweats. “Are we still on for Saturday morning?” He’d be sore from the game, but it made sense to do it then.
“Sounds good.”
She was inside her own head, not letting him in or sharing much of anything. “So, I guess I’m going to take off.”
She nodded, then really focused on him. “Wait. I have something for you.”
Before he could say anything, she dashed out, leaving him standing there alone. About a minute later, she darted back in and tossed a box at him. If he hadn’t been a receiver, it probably would’ve hit him in the face at that velocity. He opened the box to find…another box. A shoebox, to be exact.
Her intense gaze nearly made him blush. “I did some research online and found some articles about what cleats the pro football players are wearing this year. There’s one in particular that’s supposed to be the lightest and most flexible. They said running backs and receivers like it the best.”
“So you just bought them?”
Her smile wavered. “You said you couldn’t find any around here, so I ordered them online.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, Isabelle. I appreciate you wanting to help, but I’m not a charity case.”
Her eyes darkened. “Then consider it a partial payment for dancing with me.” She turned and stalked toward the door.
He knew she was just trying to be nice, and probably thought she needed to make it up to him, since he agreed to dance with her, but it always bothered him when people tried to give him things.
“Izzy.” He caught up to her and grabbed her arm.
She stopped then slowly turned back. “That’s the first time you’ve ever called me anything but Isabelle.”
“It just slipped out.” He finally knew her well enough to use the nickname that had felt too intimate to him until now. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he’d called her quite a lot of things when she first started blackmailing him, but now wasn’t the time.
“I guess it finally feels right now that we’re…well…” He moved toward her, until they were just a few inches apart. Maybe it was time for them to get closer in other ways. He slid his fingers over her hair and cupped the back of her head, slowly pulling her toward him. His heart thrummed so hard he was afraid she could hear it. He slowed his movements to make sure she didn’t want him to back off, then closed his eyes and pressed his lips against hers. They were soft and firm at the same time, and it felt so right he didn’t want to stop.
Finally, reluctantly, he pulled back a few inches and met her eyes. Her smile lit up the room. Nothing would ever be the same between them again.