Mister Romance by Amelia Simone (the reading list .txt) 📕

confidence that ultimately led to teaching. If you met me seven years ago, you wouldn’t recognize me now. That confidence has made all the difference.”

What was I proud of? I’d lost some of my discomfort dancing in front of other people. I’d come to appreciate that my body could not only do all the practical things I asked of it, but that I could also move fluidly and feel sexy.

I hadn’t thought of myself as sexy for years. In nursing, you had to keep your shit together. Display too much emotion and you got a reputation as being unreliable. Easily excitable nurses risked becoming either a zombie or a burnout. To combat both, I’d learned to ruthlessly modulate my emotions and exude competence.

I’d gotten so good at staying calm, my reserve often read as uninterested in romantic situations. Mellow and cool didn’t spark passion in others, as evidenced by my lack of second date invitations. For once, I’d changed that. With dancing, I’d found a way to break through my reticence and tap into passion. It probably wasn’t enough to unlearn the patterns set over years, but I was enjoying reconnecting with my body. Seeing what it could do. Feeling the music and appreciating that my curves let me move with sinuous grace. I could be sexy. I could be free.

“I started this class as a kind of self-dare, but after trying it, I love it,” I admitted.

Meghan’s smiled. “So, you’re saying you’re signing up for the Heels Series next?”

Only if broken ankles were sexy. Bare feet were all I could manage.

“The next Spin Series for sure. Give me a year or ten before trying heels.”

As everyone wrapped up sharing, Meghan moved us into the meat of class, and I worked hard to master the new spin she demonstrated. When it was time to move on to the dance portion, Meghan reminded us that videoing ourselves was allowed, so long as we didn’t capture any other students.

I toyed with the edge of my tank top, biting my lip. Part of me wanted to be able to watch myself again and see how much I’d improved. I also wanted it as proof to show Gina that I’d made good on my birthday wishes. But any kind of video record could be misused. I had deleted the video I’d taken last class immediately after watching it. Maybe keeping my first video for comparison would have been better, but replaying again, I noticed every mistake. Becca and a few other classmates went for their phones, and I slowly followed. I reminded myself that pushing through discomfort was part of the challenge.

As the first beats of the song played over the speakers, I tried to think of who I wanted to be sexy for. Me, obviously. But thoughts of dancing for Chase beckoned. What would it be like to lose my cool with him? A frisson of heat flowed through me at the acknowledgement. Would he be surprised that the buttoned-up nurse he met was the teensiest bit wild? I imagined him sitting against the wall in a chair watching me, his jaw hanging low. For once unable to say anything inappropriate that might break the mood. Fantasy Chase kept quiet. With my fake audience in mind, I rolled into the first steps of the routine.

As my hand dragged down the wall, feeling every bump and bubble along the surface, I imagined Chase sitting behind me, a glazed look on his face. As I hit the hip circles, there was a little extra bump to my grind, and I was able to slow it way down. My eyes were softly closed, but I could sense other movement around the room as I slow walked to my pole.

Behind my eyes, I could see fantasy Chase leaning forward in his chair as he watched. My booty snaked up in a body roll as I stood and step-spinned around the pole until my back was to it, my right arm above me grasping the pole. I slowly slid down, down, down, dragging my back against the pole inch by inch until I was seated on the floor with it behind me, my right knee bent.

In my mind’s eye, Chase was shifting uncomfortably in his chair, but unable to take his eyes off me. I swept my right arm behind me, lying on my side on the floor before bringing my left toe to my knee and extending it up above my head. In yoga pants the leg show was tame, but in something skimpier he’d be getting a money shot. I rolled from my side to my front against the floor and pushed back, arching into a child’s pose. I grabbed the pole and used it to pull myself across the floor on my knees, thrusting my hips around in a circle before using the pole to stand.

The last spin was the most difficult, and I tried to imagine Chase’s reaction as I strutted around the pole before gripping it and spinning around it backward, my back arched, and left leg wrapped around the pole at the knee. I slowly spun all the way to my knees on the floor.

I was vaguely aware of my classmates finishing their routines as the music came to a close. I opened my eyes to see a lot of dreamy looks and satisfied faces around the room.

We grabbed our phones and completed a quick cool down before assembling in the outer vestibule to put on our shoes and chat. I finally worked up the nerve to talk more with Becca.

“Your dancing is beautiful.”

“Thanks,” she said with a self-deprecating smile. “Not bad for a tax accountant, right?”

I chuckled and pointed to myself. “Nurse. Not even the naughty kind.”

She gave me a conspiratorial smile. “Coulda fooled me. Will I see you in the next series?”

“Definitely.”

Not the answer I would have imagined a few weeks ago, but committing felt right. I didn’t want to give up this powerful feeling and go back to my