“I don’t know. Allegro has given me an extended leave period from ShadowBox, and Sam told me he’d keep my chair at Eternal,” she explains, using the nickname for the tattoo shop she owns a chair at Eternal Sin Ink.
“I should hope so, you own that chair,” I reply.
She doesn’t say anything, just shrugs.
I open my mouth to talk about the tattoo that I still haven’t had done yet when I’m interrupted.
“Liv.” I hear a deep voice shout from across the street. Helena and I both stop and glance across the road.
“Oh, hi, Noah,” I greet the tall sexy man as he crosses over and heads in our direction. Every time I see this guy, I feel like I need to pinch myself because he can’t be real. Nobody looks this film-star gorgeous in real life. But yep, Noah Maitland, school teacher, dancer, and seemingly all-around nice guy is bloody hot. There’s one thing he doesn’t have, though, one thing Isaac has in spades—danger. There’s an edge to Isaac, a darkness. The guy standing in front of me is all light, and he cannot take his eyes off my best friend.
“Noah Maitland, Helena Todd,” I say introducing them.
“Hi,” they murmur simultaneously, eyeing each other with very obvious interest pouring off the both of them.
“Hel, you’ll miss your train.” I nudge her as the staring continues.
“Oh, shit yeah.” She fumbles around in her pocket and whips out her phone. “Ten minutes until my train. Fuck!” she shouts and starts running, dragging the elephant-sized suitcase behind her.
“Bollocks,” I snap and run after her. As we pound the pavement, Noah passes me with ease and pulls her suitcase from her hand. She falters for a second, but I hear him say, “I’ve got this,” like he’s taking a stroll next to her—there’s no panting, huffing, or puffing. I know he dances, so he’s healthy, but I’m fit, too, and even I’m wheezing heavily now. We reach the station and just have time to catch our breaths before Helena’s train comes. I pull her into me for a hug and hold her close. “Love you,” I whisper.
“I love you, too.” She pulls back and glances over my shoulder before her eyes come back to me. “Is that the guy you went for coffee with, and is he free?” She grins.
“Yes and yes,” I reply.
“Keep me posted and put in a good word.” She winks.
“Will do. Hug your grandparents for me.”
She smiles while nodding and gets onto the train. I wait until it’s left the station and then allow my heart to deflate. She will come back.
She will come back.
“So…”
I start at Noah’s voice. I’d forgotten he was standing next to me. My heart does a river dance in my chest from both the running and the fright he gave me.
“So,” I echo his word. “You like my friend?” I question, arching my eyebrow and trying not to laugh.
His eyes widen. “I know we went for coffee, but I, well—”
I cut him off with a giggle. “It’s okay. God, I can’t watch you try to explain yourself. You’re a good guy, Noah, you know that?” I need a bad one, I can’t help but think. “I think she liked you, too,” I tell him, and his face lights up.
“What can I say, I have a thing for tats,” he tells me shyly.
“You want her number?” I ask.
“Yeah, if you don’t think she’ll mind?”
“I don’t think she’ll mind,” I reply.
We both turn and walk out of the train station. “Where are you going?” I ask him.
“To the dance studio, you?”
“Same,” I reply.
We walk side by side, both quiet. It’s sedate, the quiet is comfortable and easy with him.
“You want to dance with me?” he asks when we’re only a few minutes away from our joint destination.
I almost trip over at his words, and Noah quickly catches me.
“You don’t have to.” He chuckles quietly.
“No, it’s not that. Sorry.” I sigh hauling myself out of his arms. “It’s just, you surprised me.” He smiles, and we continue walking side by side. “What type of dancing do you do?” I ask.
He turns to me as we stroll along. “Most styles. Jazz, latin, contemporary, swing, street. I’m partial to ballroom, though.”
I nod as we round the corner. “Meet you in room four in five minutes?” I ask.
“Sounds good,” Noah replies before heading for the men’s changing rooms.
I enter the women’s locker room and go directly to locker thirty-eight. It’s my own personal space, so I always keep two spare sets of dance clothes and towels inside in case I decide on an impromptu session. I change my attire and grab the stilettos. I look in the mirror. “Ready to dance,” I tell myself.
“So how about a tango?” I ask Noah as I walk into the studio.
He lifts his head from digging in his bag and seems to mull it over for a moment. “It’s been years since I’ve tangoed. I might be a little rusty, but I’m game if you are?” he offers, and I can’t stop the huge grin which spreads across my face.
I love this dance, but I don’t dance it. Not with anyone, not even Toby. I always wanted to dance it with Isaac, but we never did. I know he’s been taught how to tango, just like I have. But for fun? Yeah, I can’t speak for Isaac, but this will be the first time I’ve danced it for fun. It’s a masterful sexual dance. At
