The Bad Boy's Dance Read Online Free PDF Page B

suddenly stopped and turned to stare at me. My mouth went dry as her gaze flicked over me, assessing. This was very bad. This was Code Red bad. The shark was sniffing for her prey.
                  I bolted from the locker room, almost slipping in my socks in the process. The door to the dance studio was open, and in my rush, I skidded across the polished wood.
                  My arms pin-wheeled and I started listing my last will and testament mentally. Let’s see…maybe I could pull some strings and haunt Spencer from the great beyond.
                  Instead of falling to the floor, I crashed into a familiar chest. A very firm, very intimidating chest. My eyes fell on the tattoo and I gulped.
                  “If you want me, all you have to do is say so. You don’t have to keep throwing yourself at me.”
                  I stepped back. “Shove off, Grayson.”
                  Asher was wearing sweats that hung low on his hips and a loose black shirt. He looked absolutely tantalizing.
                  “Like what you see?”
                  “Yes.”
                  He looked startled, that is until I finished. “Those ballet flats are lovely.” I pointed to the shoes behind him, and he grinned, to my surprise.
                  “Everyone!” Mrs. Knut called. “Our very own Mr. Asher Grayson and Miss Ivy Robello have decided to be our representatives in the National Dance Tournament!”
                  The class clapped while I reddened. Flipping Mrs. Knut hadn’t even waited for my answer!
                  “Do you guys want to see them dance?” Mrs. Knut asked loudly.
                  “Yes!” the response was enthusiastic.
                  Wait, what? No! I don’t want to-
                  “Scared, Ivy?” Asher’s voice was close. My blood tingled. This was the first time he’d said my name.
                  “Of course not!” I hoped my pants don’t catch fire.
                  “Then show me what you can do. Don’t worry, I’ll help you. I can dance well enough for the both of us.” Asher couldn’t be more arrogant if he tried, I swear.
                  “We both know this competition is going to be mainly me, anyway.”
                  Nope, I was wrong.
                  “Ready?” Mrs. Knut checked, her finger poised over the iPod dock.
                  Just let it go, Ivy. For now, just forget everything.
                  I emptied my mind, and rolled my shoulders. Bring it, Asher.
    Selena Gomez “Slow Down” started playing.
    I grabbed Asher’s hand and whirled under his outstretched arm. When the chorus came on I dropped to the ground and rolled my hips. Without standing, I rocked back on my heels and spun.
    It was amusing to watch Asher look so stunned.
    “Grayson! Move!” Mrs. Knut sounded excited.
    He finally animated, and pulled my body flush against his. We moved in opposite directions with the music. My heart beat accelerated even more as our bodies moved in sync. The chorus came on, and Asher grabbed my waist and crouched, rolling me over his shoulder.
    I landed on my heels and hiked my ankle over his shoulder as he stood. The only time where I was grateful I was tall? When I was dancing. Years of dancing had made me a glorified gymnast.
                  Dropping it, I hitched my knees over Asher’s waist and bent backwards, my hands scraping the wood as he spun us around.
                  The end of the song was coming up. Time for the grand finale. “Ready?” Asher mouthed.
                  I nodded. He positioned my hands on his shoulders, and I knew what he would do. It was amazing, really. I’d trained for weeks to achieve the kind of ease and synchronicity with my partner that I