The sounds of dancers feet on a wood floor under the music are as familiar as the scrape of skates on ice, and I smile in anticipation. In the next moment, my mouth goes dry. I swallow. In the front of the room, a woman in a leotard and dancer’s wrap skirt is demonstrating a pivot to a pair of dancers. She is my perfect…everything.
Christina
Movement at the door catches my eye and I look over… Holy smoke. That is the hottest man I’ve ever seen in person. His t-shirt clings to him, and his nylon track pants encase long, strong legs. An image of them wrapped around me whips through my head before I shake it off. He’s wearing dance shoes. Yes, please. Dance with me.