“OOO,” squeals one of the students. “Call the fire department! These two are about to make this studio burst into flames!”
Bree whips around. “Not another word out of you girls! I need to go talk to Mr. Donelson in my office for a minute. Continue your jumps while I’m gone.”
I look at Bree with an antagonizing smile and lifted brows while silently mouthing, Mr. Donelson?
She rolls her eyes then whispers, “Don’t egg them on. These girls are ruthless. They’ve been nagging me to date you for months now, and I continuously remind them we’re only friends. Since news finally broke about our…relationship, their taunting has become nearly unmanageable.”
They’ve been trying to convince Bree to date me? This news only validates my instinct that Bree and I would be perfect together, making me feel even flirtier. “So I shouldn’t pinch your butt in front of them?”
“NATHAN!” I love the way her cheeks go pink lately. Bree flashes me a Behave look before turning to address the class again. “Okay, line up and get into position. I better hear the sound of graceful jumps the entire time I’m talking with Mr. Donelson.”
“Mhm, she’s going to go talk to Mr. Donelson,” says another girl, addressing the class with air quotes bracketing the word talk. These girls are trouble, and I totally see now why Bree loves them so much. They’re just like her.
“Jumps!” Bree barks while clicking the classical music back on.
Collectively, the girls all bat their eyelashes and singsong, “Bye, Mr. Donelson.” Okay, that makes me feel creepy.
Note to self: Maybe surprising Bree at work when she has a room full of teen girls is not the best idea.
Bree reads my thoughts. “Yep. And you should stop posing in so many shirtless ads! You should see all the photos they have saved of you on their phones.” That’s disturbing and also something I could have gone without knowing.
Bree suddenly catches my hand and pulls me with her into the hallway. I wasn’t prepared for this skin-to-skin contact, and it triggers my whole body to zero in on that one point of contact. Bree stops when we are on the other side of the studio wall just outside of eyeshot. She lets go of my hand to face me, and I want to take it back again. I stuff my hands in my pockets to keep from acting on the impulse.
“So what’s up?” she asks as classical music swirls around us.
I swallow, suddenly feeling nervous to admit that I came all this way just to see her. That’s what the guys said to do, but…I don’t know that I can go that far out on a limb. I’ve never said anything like that to her before, and I’m not sure how she’s going to react.
I shift from one foot to the other. “I, uh—had something I wanted to…”
“Oh my gosh, is that giant man stuttering?! He’s so adorable.”
Bree looks over my shoulder to where that whispered comment came from. “Back in the studio or you’re all doing ten minutes of push-ups before class is over!” Such a drill sergeant. I wonder if these girls find her threatening. I just want to kiss her.
Bree turns away and motions for me to follow. Looks like we’re going to squeeze into her tiny office now. I’m so used to Bree not wanting to be in any sort of close quarters with me that as I eye the two feet of available standing room, I accidentally give her a look of hesitation.
Her eyes widen with impatience and she waves me in. “Come on, hurry up. This is the only place we can talk privately, and I need to get back in there soon.”
As I step into her packing-box-of-an-office, I’m reminded of the finally-legal sensation. You know? It’s that feeling when you order your first beer on your twenty-first birthday, the bartender studies your ID, and for a split second, you break out in a sweat because you’re so used to always having to sell the fake one. But this one is real, he slides a beer across the table, and you get to drink it without fear of punishment. That’s what being invited to stand in this minuscule room with Bree feels like.
Her desk takes up most of the space, the backs of her legs pressed up against it to make room for me to shut the door. I can’t get it to close behind my back though; I have no choice but to step closer to Bree until we are touching. NO CHOICE, I TELL YOU! My chin is resting above her head. Now the sweet scent of coconut overpowers all the others. When we’re chest to chest, I’m able to scoot the door shut behind me. It scrapes my back as it passes, and I hope it leaves a mark so I can always remember this moment.
The door latches, and for some reason, I don’t move away. Bree doesn’t push me back either. Instead, she looks up, eyes searching mine. A hair has fallen loose from her bun and is dangling by the side of her face. Without a second thought, my hand rises and I brush my fingertips across her cheekbone, tucking the hair gently behind her ear. She sucks in a quick breath, her lips parting. She’s so damn pretty. Soft and sweet, but also vibrant and sharp. Is that how kissing her would taste?
I drop my hand from her ear to skim down the side of her arm. Her lashes fall to watch the path my hand takes until it lands right beside hers, knuckles touching lightly. Her deep brown eyes pop back up to mine, and it’s like time stands still. We’re frozen together. Something about the way she’s looking at me tells me if I bent down to kiss her right now, she’d let me. I don’t know who initiates it first, but our fingers shift and climb toward the other’s until they’re loosely intertwined.
My heart is in my throat. No, it’s in my hands. I’m holding it out here for her to take.
Suddenly, the air fills with the opening notes of “Let’s Get It On” by Marvin Gaye, and giggles erupt beyond the wall.
Bree lets out a high-pitched growl and steps to the side so she can bang the side of her fist against the wall. Our hands unlink. “Hey! Turn that off!”
They don’t obey. More giggles.
I bite my lip to keep from smiling, and Bree doesn’t appreciate it.
“It’s not funny!” she says in a sad, defeated tone.
“Come on? It’s so funny,” I say, giving in to a full smile.