Embarrassment overwhelms me at the thought of Kris seeing me shake my ass seductively, but at the same time, my confidence has never been higher. I am not the lanky girl from high school anymore. I can be sexy. I am much sexier than that woman he dated a few months ago.
My body moves on its own, using muscle memory to complete the choreography since my mind is too preoccupied to focus on the dances. After the fourth song, we take a quick break for water. My legs are on fire and I cock my hip to the side as I wrap my mouth around my water bottle and suck long and hard. I swipe sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand, trailing my fingers down my neck and across the top of my push up sports bra, stopping at my cleavage. I do it all because Kris is watching me from the back of the classroom, and he hasn’t stopped watching me since he arrived.
At the end of the hour, my body is on fire. I’ve taught this class so many times I don’t typically get muscle soreness unless I’ve had a week off. But this time was different—all my moves had to be perfect because I was showing off like some kind of child, even if I don’t really want to admit that to myself. And now I’m paying for it. A few of my regulars meet me in the front of the classroom while everyone else files out of the room, wiping sweat off their faces in a beeline to the locker room. I drain my bottle of water and grab another one from my gym bag, twisting the cap off with a crack. There’s no time to drink water in a sexy way anymore…I’m too fucking exhausted for that nonsense.
“You were insane today,” Yolanda says, lifting her shirt to dab sweat off her face. The other woman, whose name I can never remember, opens her mouth and tries to say something but can’t get it out over trying to catch her breath.
I smile over the gulping of water, finally setting the bottle down when it’s half-empty. I’m about to thank her when a voice that isn’t out of breath joins in our conversation. “This girl is intense.”
I turn to find Kris stepping into our circle with a bottle of blue Gatorade in his hand. Yolanda’s smile turns friendly as she eyes Kris up and down before holding out her hand to shake his. “It’s not every day we get a new man in the class. I’m Yolanda.”
He shakes her hand and introduces himself simply as Kris. “That was one tough ass workout. I don’t think men’s hips are built to move that way.”
The two women next to me smile and swoon and talk stupidly, fawning over him as if he’s a new piece of meat that needs to be tenderized. Never mind that both of them are in relationships. Never mind that he’s my boss and my ex-boyfriend and, oh God, when did I become jealous over him?
I pack up my gym bag and throw the strap over my shoulder, since technically I have to work my shift now and shouldn’t be hanging out in the dance room. I should just walk out and head to the front desk and say hello to Susan and check the gym’s email account and all of the other things that my job requires. I should absolutely not stand here, silently comparing Yolanda’s ass to mine in the mirrors, wondering if Kris finds her more attractive than me, and all of the other dumb ass things that are going through my mind. I am not in high school anymore. I am not boy crazy. Especially not over this boy.
I am a fucking grown up, dammit.
So yeah, I know I need to walk out of here, but Yolanda’s heavy flirting and the fact that she’s now got her stupid hand on his arm as she tells him all about how she’s been wanting to become a certified dance teacher too does something to my subconscious that has me speaking before I even realize it.
“So, boss—” My voice is cheery and sweet. “What was that you said about me deserving a raise?”
Yolanda’s mouth falls open. “Boss? Are you the new owner?”
Kris nods and even feigns a little modesty even though I know he loves the attention. “Yes ma’am.”
I can almost see the
My body moves on its own, using muscle memory to complete the choreography since my mind is too preoccupied to focus on the dances. After the fourth song, we take a quick break for water. My legs are on fire and I cock my hip to the side as I wrap my mouth around my water bottle and suck long and hard. I swipe sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand, trailing my fingers down my neck and across the top of my push up sports bra, stopping at my cleavage. I do it all because Kris is watching me from the back of the classroom, and he hasn’t stopped watching me since he arrived.
At the end of the hour, my body is on fire. I’ve taught this class so many times I don’t typically get muscle soreness unless I’ve had a week off. But this time was different—all my moves had to be perfect because I was showing off like some kind of child, even if I don’t really want to admit that to myself. And now I’m paying for it. A few of my regulars meet me in the front of the classroom while everyone else files out of the room, wiping sweat off their faces in a beeline to the locker room. I drain my bottle of water and grab another one from my gym bag, twisting the cap off with a crack. There’s no time to drink water in a sexy way anymore…I’m too fucking exhausted for that nonsense.
“You were insane today,” Yolanda says, lifting her shirt to dab sweat off her face. The other woman, whose name I can never remember, opens her mouth and tries to say something but can’t get it out over trying to catch her breath.
I smile over the gulping of water, finally setting the bottle down when it’s half-empty. I’m about to thank her when a voice that isn’t out of breath joins in our conversation. “This girl is intense.”
I turn to find Kris stepping into our circle with a bottle of blue Gatorade in his hand. Yolanda’s smile turns friendly as she eyes Kris up and down before holding out her hand to shake his. “It’s not every day we get a new man in the class. I’m Yolanda.”
He shakes her hand and introduces himself simply as Kris. “That was one tough ass workout. I don’t think men’s hips are built to move that way.”
The two women next to me smile and swoon and talk stupidly, fawning over him as if he’s a new piece of meat that needs to be tenderized. Never mind that both of them are in relationships. Never mind that he’s my boss and my ex-boyfriend and, oh God, when did I become jealous over him?
I pack up my gym bag and throw the strap over my shoulder, since technically I have to work my shift now and shouldn’t be hanging out in the dance room. I should just walk out and head to the front desk and say hello to Susan and check the gym’s email account and all of the other things that my job requires. I should absolutely not stand here, silently comparing Yolanda’s ass to mine in the mirrors, wondering if Kris finds her more attractive than me, and all of the other dumb ass things that are going through my mind. I am not in high school anymore. I am not boy crazy. Especially not over this boy.
I am a fucking grown up, dammit.
So yeah, I know I need to walk out of here, but Yolanda’s heavy flirting and the fact that she’s now got her stupid hand on his arm as she tells him all about how she’s been wanting to become a certified dance teacher too does something to my subconscious that has me speaking before I even realize it.
“So, boss—” My voice is cheery and sweet. “What was that you said about me deserving a raise?”
Yolanda’s mouth falls open. “Boss? Are you the new owner?”
Kris nods and even feigns a little modesty even though I know he loves the attention. “Yes ma’am.”
I can almost see the
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