You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This

by Karenna Colcroft

  Gerry sighed. “Yes, Molly, and I can see you were right. Erin, my wonderful wife here heard about Stefan’s competition and thought we should try it. I’ve been trying to explain to her that we’ve only been taking lessons here for a few months, and I’m not even sure I know the beginning stuff, never mind anything advanced enough to compete.”

  “You’ve been here twice a week every week,” Erin teased. “You’ve learned something, I’m sure. Stefan said that the competition isn’t anything big. It’s more of a fun thing. If you’re thinking about going into competing in general, checking out this one might give you a feel for what competitions are like without having a lot of pressure. You should talk to Stefan.”

  “Talk to me about what?” Stefan walked over. “I heard my name.”

  “Gerry and Molly want more information about your competition,” Erin explained. “Excuse me, folks, I need to go talk to someone else.” She walked away as Stefan began explaining the event.

  Several times during class, Erin caught Stefan watching her instead of the students. Now that she’d put aside her memories, she clearly felt the attraction to him that she’d experienced since becoming his assistant, and knowing he was attracted to her as well made it even more pleasant. She shook her head at him with a small, chiding smile to remind him to focus on the other dancers. Each time, he gave her a sheepish look and turned his attention back to the students. Each time, within minutes his eyes were on her again.

  Class ended. The couple who’d asked about competing took Stefan aside to ask his opinion, and one of the other women said, “Competition is tough, isn’t it, Erin? Is that why you stopped?”

  “I didn’t stop because it was hard.” She took a deep breath. “I lost my partner just about a year ago. Without him, I just didn’t have the heart to compete. I needed time to grieve, I guess.”

  “I’m sorry,” the woman said quietly.

  Erin inclined her head. “Thank you.”

  “So you might go back to competing someday?” a younger woman asked. She looked about the age Erin had been when she’d started attending these classes herself. “I saw you compete a couple years ago. One of my friends dragged me along. I thought I’d be bored stupid, but West Coast really caught my attention and that’s why I started taking classes.”

  Erin pasted a smile on her face. “I’m glad you enjoy it.”

  “I’m sorry about your partner. He was an amazing dancer.”

  “Yeah.” Erin looked longingly across the room at the door. “Excuse me, please. It’s a little hot in here and I want some air.”

  Puzzled, the young woman stepped aside. “Sure.”

  She moved aside, and Erin hurried outdoors just as the tears started to fall. Hugging herself, she walked around to the back of the building and stared blindly at the pond. She and Scott had hung out here sometimes after classes, especially when she’d first begun.

  The spot calmed her, and she began to think about the conversation she’d just had. The women’s questions had reminded her of Scott, of how wonderful a dancer he’d been. Right from the very first competition, she’d done well because she’d only had to follow his lead. Scott had danced well enough to make anyone look good.

  She’d followed his lead in their competitions like she’d done in everything about dance from the day he’d found her in the gym. He’d persuaded her to take classes, had talked her into competing when she didn’t know if she was good enough. All the competitions they’d done, he’d signed them up for, sometimes without even asking her. He’d pushed her to be a great dancer, and she’d let him instead of taking control of her own dancing.

  That brought more tears to her eyes. She’d depended on Scott far too much. Even after his accident, her decisions had been based on him.

  She realized now she’d made the right choice by agreeing to Stefan’s request. The charity competition would give her a chance to stand on her own and move past her grief.

  You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This

  Chapter Six

  The door squeaked behind her, and she hastily brushed the tears from her eyes and turned to face Stefan. “Are you okay?” He came to her and cupped her cheek. “You’ve been crying.”

  “No big deal,” she replied. “Just old memories.”

  “Like when you and I danced before class?” He took her hands in his. “Talk to me. We’re friends now, yeah? More than friends. I want to listen, Erin.”

  He would listen and say all the right, comforting things, she knew. She just didn’t want to break down in front of him. Letting go of Scott was proving harder than she’d expected, and while Stefan clearly cared enough about her to let her talk it through with him, she didn’t want to burden him. “I think I’m okay. Just thinking something over.”

  He nodded. “Do you want to leave? I’ll buy you tea again.”

  She managed a faint smile. “We bailed out on the social dancing last time. We shouldn’t leave early again.”

  “Social dancing is not my primary responsibility,” he replied solemnly, though his eyes twinkled. “Making sure my…hmm. Calling you my girlfriend just sounds weird. Too high school.”

  “Then let’s not worry about what we’re called.” She squeezed his hands then let go. “They’re probably looking for us. I know more than one woman in there wants to dance with you.”

  “And again, they aren’t the most important thing here.” He studied her, and she glanced away. “Talk to me or at least tell me that you’ll talk to me later.”

  “After dancing is over,” she promised.

  “I’m going to hold you to that.” He hugged her and gently kissed her forehead. “Come back inside with me, then, and let’s show them how dancing is done.”

  Reluctantly, she let him lead her back inside. Some of the regulars gave her concerned looks, and she wished she’d taken the time to check the bathroom mirror for any signs that she’d been crying. She had no time now. Stefan pulled her onto the dance floor.

  The song playing was halfway over, but neither she nor Stefan had any trouble picking up the count. As they moved together, dancing the way they’d done upstairs, some of the other dancers stopped to watch. For a moment, the attention embarrassed Erin. Then her body lost itself in the steps and soon her mind followed.

  Stefan looked into her eyes and she focused on him, forgetting the people around them. She followed him as fluidly as if she read his mind. He twirled her into his arms and whispered, “Everyone’s watching how gorgeous you are.”

  “We are,” she corrected.

  The song ended with scattered applause as she and Stefan acknowledged each other. Stefan moved on to another partner, a woman from the advanced class. Although Erin wanted to sit and watch, she accepted the requests of some of the male students from their class and a few regulars, and danced a few more times with Stefan as well. By the end of the night, her feet ached, but the sadness from earlier had almost evaporated.

  When the dance finally ended and everything had been put away, she and Stefan walked outside hand in hand. “You’re beautiful when you dance,” he said. “Every guy in the place wanted to partner with you.”

  “I think most of them did.” She flexed her toes inside her shoes and grimaced. “It’s been a while since I’ve danced that much in one night.”

  “We’ll have to work on that, then.” They reached their cars and he stood beside her while she unlocked her door. “Tea? Or do you want to come to my place again?”

  “Your place.” He might think she planned to sleep with him again, and she hadn’t completely ruled out the idea. Mostly she just wanted to be somewhere private with him to talk about Scott and her realizations.

  “Riding with me or in your car?”

  She shot him a look. “Why would I ride with you? I wouldn’t be able to go home if I left my car here, unless you plan to bring me back in the middle of the night.”

  “I was thinking of bringing you back tomorrow morning.” He grinned as she narrowed her eyes. “Okay,
okay, I’m being pushy. Fine. Follow me home, then.”

  They drove through uncrowded streets to Stefan’s house, where Gorilla met them with barks and jumps that had Stefan shaking his head and begging the dog to quiet down. “I have tolerant neighbors, but not that tolerant,” he told the animal. “Erin, go ahead in while I take this mongrel for a short walk. If you want to start water for tea, feel free to poke around and find what you need.”

  He fastened a leash to the dog’s collar. Erin watched them walk down the driveway, then went into the kitchen.

  Searching Stefan’s cupboards for cups and teabags proved strangely soothing, even though going through other people’s things usually made her uncomfortable. By the time Stefan and Gorilla returned, she had settled at the island with a hot cup of tea in front of her and an empty cup beside it. “I didn’t know whether you wanted tea or coffee,” she explained.

  Stefan took the leash off Gorilla and hung it up. The dog trotted over to sniff Erin and let her scratch his ears, then ambled down the hallway to his bed. “Smart dog,” Stefan commented. He sat on the stool next to her. “I didn’t want anything except you here.”

  “Aww.” Her face warmed, and she traced her finger around the rim of her cup. “I’m glad we can spend some together. I have to work in the morning, so I can’t stay late. And, um…” She trailed off, uncertain how to tell him that as close as she wanted to be to him, she didn’t want sex that night.

  “Then let’s talk.” He rested his hand on her knee. “You were about ready to run out on me when we danced before class. And you pretty much did run out afterward when those women were talking to you. I want to help, Erin. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Tears pricked her eyes again, and she blinked them back. Her chest tightened. “Nothing big,” she said, failing miserably at sounding casual. “I just—dancing with you reminded me of someone.”

  “Scott?”

  She nodded. Sympathy filled his eyes, and he patted her hand. “I remember you and Scott dancing at the studio. You two were good. Very good. After his accident, some of us wondered whether you’d come back without him. I’m glad you did.”

  “My roommate made me.” She took a sip of tea, hoping to steady her shaking hands. “I had to take a break after Scott—after we lost Scott. Then I wanted to go back to classes and practicing, and my roommate encouraged me. I just don’t know about competing.”

  “Smart roommate,” Stefan said. “You shouldn’t give up dance. In my opinion, you shouldn’t give up competing, either, not forever.”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t given up anything. I love dancing.”

  “You haven’t competed since Scott passed. And when I asked you to partner with me, you looked like I’d asked you to murder a kitten.”

  “Really.” She raised an eyebrow. “Stefan, I haven’t competed at all in a year, and Scott was the only partner I ever competed with. Asking me to get used to a new partner in less than two weeks is asking a lot.”

  “You’re used to partnering with me,” he countered. “We’ve been dancing together for months now. This isn’t really going to be all that different.”

  “It is for me,” she snapped. “You don’t have any idea what it’s going to be like for me walking into a competition without Scott.” The tears she’d tried to find off flooded her eyes, and she pressed the heels of her hands against them. “I should leave. You don’t need to see me crying.”

  “Looks to me like you’re still sitting here,” Stefan said quietly. “Erin, don’t go. Please.”

  “I’ll stay if you try to understand.” She glared at him. “This is hard for me. I want to help you out, otherwise I wouldn’t have said I would. When I was outside tonight, I realized Scott kind of ran the show when it came to our partnership, and I need to move on from that. Maybe I should have sooner. I just need you to understand how different and difficult it’ll be for me, especially with so little notice.”

  “My fault.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “I didn’t dare to ask you. Kept putting it off until I finally worked up the nerve.”

  “I’m glad you did ask,” she said quietly. “I just wish you’d done it sooner. I’m kind of stressed about the whole thing, to be honest.”

  “Do you want to practice tonight?”

  She shook her head. “I’d rather not. I’m still feeling kind of weepy about Scott and everything, and I just want to relax.”

  “I understand.” He rested his hand on her knee. “I feel like that about Emma sometimes.”

  Erin leaned over to put her arm around him and almost fell off the stool. Brilliant. Trying to comfort the guy and you turn it into a comedy routine. “Sorry,” she said, not sure whether she was apologizing for falling or expressing sympathy.

  Stefan laughed. “I’m glad you’re more graceful on the floor than on my stool. I miss Emma. She’s one of the reasons I dance, because she enjoyed it so much. Even after she became too sick to dance herself, she liked to watch me, and even showed up at a few of my competitions when she could manage. When I compete now, I dedicate my performances to her.”

  “I bet she’d love that if she knew.”

  “I think she does know.” He slid off the stool and went to the fridge. “Now I’m thirsty.” He took out a bottle of soda and poured some into the empty cup Erin had set out, then returned the bottle to the fridge. “I think she sees me dancing and knows it’s partly for her and mostly for myself.”

  “That’s a nice thought.” She hoped Scott didn’t see her. She knew all too well what he’d say if he learned she’d stopped competing.

  “Scott probably does too,” Stefan said. “See you dancing, I mean.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Is that what upset you at the studio?” Stefan asked quietly. “Thinking about him?”

  “Mostly.” She sniffled. “He’s been gone a year, and I still forget sometimes.” A glance at the calendar hanging above the counter confirmed the date, and she took a deep breath. She’d managed to forget that it was the anniversary. “A year today.”

  “You told me the anniversary was coming up.” He rested his hand on her knee. “I’m sorry. No wonder you’re so upset tonight.”

  “Today being the day didn’t even hit me till just now,” she admitted. “Like I said, sometimes I forget.” Clearly part of her mind had remembered, though. “Tonight when you and I danced before class, I felt the way I always did with Scott. I mean, you and I dance great together. Tonight seemed different somehow. More…together, I guess.” She shook her head. “I have no idea what I’m saying.”

  He smiled. “Maybe you don’t. I think I do. I felt the same way. To me, that just proved we should dance together in the competition. I’m sorry it made you so sad.”

  “Thanks.” She gulped some tea, ignoring the sting of too hot water against her tongue. “I lov—liked dancing with you that way.” Even talking about dance, she wasn’t ready to say the “L” word to him yet. “The sad part was remembering dancing like that with Scott.”

  “If you don’t want to partner with me next weekend, that’s okay.” He touched her hand. “I think we’d be great. I don’t want you upset, though.”

  “Did I not say a few minutes ago that I want to do it?” she snapped.

  He raised his hands in surrender. “I think I’m making things worse here.” He slid off the stool. “I’m just going to go into the living room and be silent before I really piss you off.”

  “Wait.” She caught his arm. “I’m sorry.” Tears flooded to her eyes, and a sob escaped from her throat. “I’m—I’m a fucking mess tonight.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “Don’t apologize. You’re not a mess. Let it out.”

  “I don’t want to.” She sniffled. She’d cried enough already.

  “Let’s go sit on the couch,” he suggested.

  Erin’s trembling legs told her that would be a good idea. She pulled away from him and picked up her mug, then followed him to the couch and curled
up against one of the cushions. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  “Did I not just tell you not to apologize?” Stefan gave her a reassuring smile and sat beside her. “You’re fine. You had a lot bottled up, and I’m glad I’m here for you to let it out on.”

  “Sometimes I think I should just let go,” she mumbled. “Of Scott, I mean. I started competing because of him. He isn’t really why I stopped, but…” She trailed off. Of course she’d stopped competing because of Scott, and Stefan already knew that.

  “In a way he is.” Stefan rested his hand on her thigh. “You stopped because you didn’t have him any more and you didn’t feel right about finding another partner.”

  “He taught me to dance.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “We were only friends, except that makes our relationship sound like less than it was. When I lost him, I lost all of that.”

  “You didn’t, not really.” He put his arm around her, and she shifted herself to lean against him. Warmth and caring wrapped around her, soothing her. “You have friends, yeah? Me, and your roommate, and I’m sure others. People care about you. I know that for a fact, because I’m one of them. And you’re still dancing.”

  “I couldn’t stop dancing for long.”

  “I’m glad of that.” He rubbed her shoulder. “What would I do without the greatest assistant ever? I’m so sorry you lost someone who meant that much to you, Erin. You didn’t lose yourself. You’re still here. Don’t you think he’d want you to move on?”

  She pulled away from him. “I don’t know any more. I can’t just forget him.”

  “No, and I wouldn’t think you ever will. I won’t ever forget Emma. Anyone who thinks moving on means forgetting either hasn’t lost anyone or is delusional.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and one hand on Erin’s knee. “I’m saying live the way he’d want you to, and do it in his honor. You came back to dance, yeah?”

  She nodded. “I stayed away for a little while, then Merit, my roommate, brought me to the studio. Seeing everyone else dancing, I couldn’t keep still. When you asked if I wanted to help you instruct, I thought teaching might help me get over losing Scott.” She swallowed the large lump in her throat. “I’m glad I took your offer. Dancing and teaching with you has helped.”