His arms look purely obscene they’re so freaking sexy, stretched out before him as he lightly grips the barre. And I have to hold in a whimper, forcing my eyes straight ahead in the mirror to focus on my form.
“Lift up only halfway, staying up on those toes… and then sink back down. Good!” she instructs, and I blow out a slow breath, feeling the fire in my legs start to make me sweat. “Twenty of these. Ready? Up… and down. One. Up…”
If I wasn’t concentrating so hard on getting through the set, I’d take a moment to appreciate Neil’s impressive form. The man apparently never skipped a leg day. And although he’s broken a sweat along his hairline, he’s not even breathing heavy, while I’m over here sounding like I’m trying to power a windmill.
“Great job. Staying right where you are, we’re moving into our arabesque attitudes. This works those booties, so make them count. Feet in first position, keep those chests lifted, and extend your left leg out behind you, straight as you can get from the hip. Pointed toes… oh look at you, Astrid, with your pretty ballerina feet. See? Told you once a dancer, always a dancer,” she calls me out, and instead of feeling embarrassed, my chest swells with pride at the praise, and it’s all the motivation I need to get through this next set.
“Either keep both hands light on the bar or you can stretch one arm out ahead of you, same side as the lifted leg, palm facing down. Now, here comes the fun part,” Destinee says wickedly, and more than a few of the women in the room let out a groan. “Keeping that left leg up, bend just the left knee to cross your calf behind you. If you were to look over your right shoulder, you should be able to say hi to your foot.”
“What the fuck?” I hear Neil murmur beside me, and I look at him in the mirror and can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes when I see the puzzled look on his face.
So, he doesn’t skip leg day, but he’s not the most flexible man in the world.
“So you do have a flaw,” I singsong low, still following along with Destinee’s instructions as she counts us to twenty.
His eyes meet mine as he struggles to keep his leg high behind him. Still, there’s a twinkle of good-natured competitiveness in his expression. “And what’s that?”
“Not very bendy,” I reply, switching legs when she tells us to.
Neil does as well but never takes his eyes off mine when a dark and sexy mask filters over his face. “Not the one who needs to be, goddess.”
My core clenches at the images that one statement incites, and I lose my balance, stumbling to the side as he chuckles.
“Take a water break when you need it,” Destinee calls to the room, clearly having mistaken my sexually induced clumsiness for needing a breather.
“There’s a bottle for you in my bag,” Neil tells me, and I decide to take that break after all. I lower to my yoga mat and crawl over to where his bag is beneath the barre, up against the mirror, trying to ignore the fact that I’m on my knees while he stands over me. I squeeze and tug the toggle down the set of strings and loosen the opening of the bag, reaching inside and pulling out a bottle of water, grateful he brought me one because I had most definitely forgotten to grab one before we left.
I set the bag back in its place and twist the cap, closing my eyes and taking a long drink of water. It’s not until I hear a low growl directly above me that I tilt my head back farther and open my eyes, seeing Neil bent at the waist, his arms outstretching as he holds onto the barre, staring down at me. I swallow thickly, my mouth going dry at the heated look on his face even though I just drank half the bottle of water. I glance down, realizing he can see right down the neckline of my tank top, which must’ve elicited that feral sound from his delicious body.
And then—now knowing I unintentionally got him back for the dirty, bendy images he put inside my mind—I do something I never saw myself being capable of, suddenly feeling wholly feminine and… powerful. I look back up at him with a little smirk, unblocking his view