“I do.”
I smiled. I could get used to this. Sexy conversations on the phone. Torrid nights that no one knew about. There was a thrill to the secrecy that I was starting to like.
“What are you going to do for the rest of the night?” I asked. I didn’t know much about Sam’s life other than he played football.
“Probably watch footage for the Sunday game.”
“Oh.” Maybe there wasn’t more to him than football. I felt a slight sinking feeling.
“And probably make some dinner.”
“Do you cook?”
“Yes, I cook. Do you cook?”
“No. I’m the worst cook.” I ate cereal and salads. Anything with more directions and I would burn it.
“Then good thing you met me. I’m basically a chef. Should have gone to culinary school.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He chuckled. “There’s not as much money in whipping up a mean pasta as there is in catching a leather ball.”
“I keep forgetting.”
“I like that you forget. You don’t give a shit I play football, do you?”
I shook my head. “Not at all.”
“And you know I don’t care you’re on a dance team, right?”
“I do know that.”
“Good, because it doesn’t matter to me. But I was thinking about something today after you left.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“I want to see you dance.”
“You’ve seen me.”
“No, not like that. The way you love dance. I want to see the ballerina Natalia.”
He took my breath away. I had old dance videos and piles of audition DVDs, but that wasn’t what he was talking about.
“You really want to see me dance?”
“Yeah, I bet you’re beautiful out there.”
And I knew he didn’t mean the same way as when I was a Goddess, shaking my ass for everyone to see.
“I’ll dance for you.”
I was already choreographing something in my head to show him.
“I have to go pick up the film for tonight. But I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”