Chapter 26: Two Left Feet

Roxanne stood outside the dance studio after classes, staring through the glass at students already moving through their warmups while music spilled faintly into the hallway. Isla stood beside her, practically vibrating with excitement, while Roxanne looked down at the folded slip of paper from yesterday and seriously considered crumpling it. Isla caught her hand before she could. "Don’t. I know that look."

"I haven’t done anything yet."

"You were about to."

Roxanne sighed and admitted that joining the club had already been questionable enough without somehow ending up partnered with Kai of all people. Isla just grinned and pointed out it could have been worse, since she could have gotten Liam instead, and Roxanne had to concede the point before pushing through the doors.

Kai was already inside, leaning against the far wall in simple training clothes while the instructor set up the music. His eyes found her the moment she walked in. "You’re late."

"I’m two minutes early," she said, checking the clock behind him.

He glanced at it, then back at her, unbothered. "Barely."

She rolled her eyes and told him he was going to be annoying about this the entire time, and he answered simply that he probably would be.

The instructor gathered everyone and demonstrated the routine, which wasn’t complicated on paper but involved a fair amount of hand connection, side steps, a turn, a spin, and a final close position that made Roxanne’s stomach tighten just watching it. She noticed Kai tracking every movement with an ease that seemed unfair given he claimed he’d never danced before.

"You know how to dance," she said.

"No."

"You’re lying."

"I watched."

"That doesn’t count."

"It does if I learned it," he said, and she stared at him, once again reminded that the frustratingly capable royal Lycan standing in front of her could apparently absorb an entire routine after a single demonstration. She muttered that he was supposed to be bad at this so she wouldn’t feel embarrassed, and he asked why that mattered, and she said it just did, and the corner of his mouth twitched in a way that suggested he found her more amusing than he’d admit.

When the instructor told everyone to pair up, Roxanne found herself facing him with none of the usual buffer she had in Combat class. No gloves, no mats, no excuse for distance. He held out his hand and she stared at it like it might bite her.

"Seriously?"

"It’s the dance."

"I know what dancing is."

"Then why are you staring at my hand?"

She put her hand in his, and his fingers closed around hers warm and steady, his other hand settling lightly against her waist. She stiffened without meaning to, and he noticed immediately, asking quietly if she was too close.

"No."

"Then relax."

"Easy for you to say."

"You’re thinking too much."

"I think a lot."

"I’ve noticed," he said, and she shot him a look right as the music started.

The first few steps didn’t go well. She missed the third beat entirely, stepped on his foot twice, and turned the wrong direction more than once, and each time he corrected her without any real irritation, just steady patience that somehow made it more frustrating. When she snapped that she was clearly enjoying herself, he pointed out she’d said the same thing about being called worse, and something in his expression shifted at that, though he didn’t push it. He didn’t ask about Dorian or bring up her rejection. He just said "again," and she found that she appreciated the absence of sympathy far more than she expected to.

They tried once more, slower this time, and he told her to stop looking at their feet. She argued she’d mess up if she didn’t, and he said she was already messing up either way, which earned him a glare, though the point landed. He told her she was trying to control every movement because she was afraid of falling, and when she asked how he knew that wasn’t going to happen, he said simply that he’d catch her.

The words settled somewhere she wasn’t prepared for. He didn’t seem embarrassed by having said them, and he just told her to trust the movement instead of fighting it, and something in her finally let go of the tension she’d been carrying since they’d started. The next sequence worked. Then the one after that. Before long they were moving together with something close to ease, and she realized she was smiling.

"You’re getting it," he said.

"Don’t sound so surprised."

"I’m not."

"You look surprised."

"I look like this all the time."

She laughed at that, and told him that was exactly his problem.

The final turn came next, and for one perfect second everything aligned as he spun her out and she came back in, until her foot caught wrong and her balance tipped. He caught her instantly, his arm tightening around her waist, her hand landing flat against his chest as the space between them disappeared entirely. The music kept playing around them, other students still practicing, but she barely registered any of it. She looked up and found him already looking down at her, his grip firm but careful, and she whispered that he could let go now.

"I know," he said, and didn’t.

The instructor’s voice cut through a second later, calling for partners to reset, and he released her immediately. She stepped back fast, her face warm, pretending to fix her hair while he said nothing at all, which somehow made the whole thing worse.

The door opened right then and Liam walked in, took one look at the two of them, and grinned wide enough that Roxanne closed her eyes and groaned before he’d even said anything. He asked if he should come back later, said something about Kai never showing this much interest in extracurriculars, and disappeared before Kai could throw anything at him. Roxanne was still laughing when Kai asked what was funny, and she just shook her head and said nothing, grateful the tension had broken.

They finished the rehearsal without much more trouble, and when the instructor finally dismissed them, Kai handed her the water bottle she’d left by the mirror before heading for the door. She called his name without quite knowing why, and asked how he’d learned the routine so fast.

"I paid attention," he said.

"Show-off."

"Maybe."

That night, lying in bed while Isla slept across the room, Roxanne kept replaying the rehearsal instead of thinking about tomorrow’s classes. His hand in hers. His arm at her waist. The way he’d caught her without hesitation and never once made her feel fragile for needing it.

She’d expected being that close to him to feel uncomfortable.

It hadn’t. It had felt safe, and she hated how much that thought unsettled her.

She pulled the blanket over her head and told herself no, quietly, though the smile she couldn’t quite hide gave her away completely.