“First, we must start with the embrace,” Ricardo says, pulling on the arm of a tiny woman in a matching red dress who I assume is his partner. He pulls her close with a twirling motion and stares deep into her eyes. “You hold them with intense emotion. You’re going on a journey of love and you must convey this in your every movement, in your eyes, in the sensuality of your muscles as you hold your partner tight.”

I need a fan just from his words. Ricardo is quite the romantic.

He demonstrates by leaning in and putting his left hand on her shoulder. He hugs her tight then wraps his right arm around her lower back, centering it above her ass. His partner then raises her right hand to mirror his movements.

“Keep your head high, your spine straight, your core strong, and your chest lifted. Ooze confidence, my loves!” Ricardo demonstrates with a sliding movement of his feet as he twirls his partner around. “Move forward with your left foot, then forward with your right, forward with the left, then the right. Then, feet together, moving left to meet right. Tada! That’s it, and repeat!” He stops and takes a little bow along with his partner who, of course, mirrored his movements while moving backward. He claps his hands. “Now, let’s partner up and hold each other with deep sensuality.”

Sensuality?

I turn to face Maverick, a small laugh escaping me. “Are you as uncomfortable as I am right now?”

“I don’t have a clue what the hell he just did out there.” He grins in a self-deprecating way, a spot of pink on his cheeks.

“Does that embarrass you? That you can’t do everything?”

“No, but I do want to make a good impression on you.”

My heart does a somersault.

“Why?”

He ignores that comment and pulls me into his arms, his left hand on my shoulder and his right going to the base of my spine. Goose bumps rise on my arms as he tugs me in closer. “Put your arms around me.”

I do, my mouth completely dry, my body in tune and ready to catch fire as his chest grazes against me and his leg fits smoothly between mine. Heat engulfs my lower regions and I ignore it by staring at his chin. I can’t bring myself to look into those eyes.

“I’d do anything for some people—you’ll figure that out about me,” Maverick says softly, and suddenly it feels as if we’re all alone and not in a crowded studio surrounded by people.

“So I’m one of those people? We barely know each other.”

A bit of a laugh comes from him as our eyes meet. “You pretend like you don’t know me, Delaney, but there’s something between us.”

I bite my lip and stammer out, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Plus, I don’t like football players.”

“So you keep saying, yet here we are…dancing.”

“You offered, and I didn’t have anyone else.”

He laughs. “You love being in my arms and you know it.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re so freaking infuriating.”

He just shrugs.

“I’m not changing my mind.”

He leans in and whispers in my ear. “Your body already says yes.”

Oh…God! He’s so annoying, but dammit if his proximity isn’t creating havoc in my internal organs, and it’s all I can do to not straddle his leg and hump it. Luckily, I’m saved when he begins the forward motion of his feet and I take a step back to mirror his steps.

It’s pure torture the way he guides me across the dance floor, his hold firm yet loose, his movements fluid and graceful. He’s not as horrible a dancer as he said, and I feel like he only said that to make me comfortable.

Later, after the class is done, we’re standing near the door talking as the students mill around and Ricardo ushers everyone out the door.

Bobby Gene gives us a wave as he passes us in the hallway. He looks like he might want to say more, but he gives Maverick a wide berth and calls over his shoulder that he’ll catch me later.

We decide to take the stairs instead of the elevator since it’s packed. Maverick walks next to me, his body solid and hard, and I’m feeling more powerful than I have in days.

“Want me to walk you to your car?” he asks as we reach the bottom floor.

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

Even though there are plenty of streetlights and security cameras, it is dark.

We walk toward the exit, but then I see Martha-Muffin watching us from a cozy sitting area off to the right. Her eyes are lasered in on Maverick and then they bounce to me, a slight snarl forming on her face. I must slow or stiffen because Maverick pauses and looks down at me. “You okay?”

I take a deep breath and shake my head. “It’s nothing.”

A scowl forms on his brow as he scans the open space of the lobby, his gaze landing on Martha-Muffin, who’s put her hand on her hip, openly glaring at us.

“Ah, her…” He stops and looks back at me with a grimace. “If it’s any consolation, I can’t stand her. She tried to trick her way into my bed once and I kicked her ass out. She’s been hating on me ever since.”

I can’t imagine anyone hating Maverick, and I’m glad he’s never been with her. But, seeing her just reminds me of Alex’s infidelity and the fact that while Maverick hasn’t been with her specifically, he’s still a football player with plenty of access.

We exit the building and take off across the parking lot. I’m wondering if he’ll ask me out again. What will I say? Am I still on this just friends kick?

We reach my silver Prius and he grins. “The kind of car you have says a lot about a person.”

“Is this where you say I’m pragmatic and predictable?”

He stares down at me. “Maybe. I like that about you. You’re quiet but deep. I am too. I mean, I’m popular but underneath, I’m a quiet guy.”

I bite my lip, wanting to know more. “What would you do if you didn’t play football?” I ask.

He sticks his hands in his pockets and stares up at the sky as he thinks. “Medical school, probably a neurologist.”

Ah. “Because of Raven?”

He smiles ruefully, a contemplative look on his face. “Yeah. I read everything I can about her injury, all the latest findings. It’s a complex condition, and very…personal. No two cases are ever the same. Her injuries were rather serious. She had to learn to talk and walk all over again.”

“You’re a good brother.”

He shrugs. “She’s all I have. I mean, there’s my dad, but sometimes I think he’s already given up.”

I inhale a sharp breath at his vulnerability. There’s so much more to him than everyone thinks.

We stare at each other in silence, and it’s not weird or uncomfortable, and…

I’m dying for him to kiss me.

His gaze brushes over me, lingering on my lips. “Want to do the salsa thing again next week?”

“Yeah.”

God.

I really want him to kiss me.

Which is crazy. He’s bad news…right?

He leans down and brushes his sensuous lips across mine, and for three seconds, I can’t breathe.

My body hums. My heart flies. We feel connected, as if his lips on mine were always meant to be but we’re just now figuring it out.

“Our second kiss,” he says softly, pulling back to stare down at me.

“Yeah.”

“It won’t be the last,” he says huskily, his voice sending shivers over my skin.