I rolled my shoulders, already confused. How was I supposed to relax but keep my back straight and my head up? I decided to go with relax.
I hung my head and listened to the music. It had a nice tempo. Self-conscious, I tapped my foot to the beat and attempted to follow the steps on the screen. I was awkward and stiff. I kept going the wrong way instead of the way they instructed. I stumbled and had to right myself.
It was much harder than it looked.
I tried again, cursing loudly when I slammed into the corner of my desk. I kicked at the edge, wondering how bad it would really be if Becca danced with Colin. He had a girlfriend, after all.
The flash of jealousy that hit me at the thought of her in his arms instead of mine made me try again. This time, I tripped over a chair.
I stood up, brushing off my pants as I heard the sound of clapping. Startled, I spun around to see Aiden in the doorway, his expression amused. He indicated the monitors behind me.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I hit the end button. “Nothing.”
He walked in, his shoulders shaking from laughter. “I think you were attempting to dance, but at first, I wasn’t sure if you were having a seizure or drunk.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
He met my gaze. “Yeah, kid, it was.”
I sighed, dropping my head to my chest. “Becca wants to dance at Bent’s wedding.”
“And?”
“It’s another punch card, Aiden. I don’t know how to dance. I have never danced in my life!”
He frowned. “Not even when you’re alone in your boxers making a sandwich and a good song comes on the radio? You don’t start busting a move?”
“First off, thanks for the visual, and second, no. Never. And I don’t think ‘busting a move’ is what Becca wants. She wants slow and romantic—” I jerked my thumb in the direction of the wall “—like they’re doing.”
He rubbed his chin and shook his head. “I think that’s a little out-of-date for Becca. She wants you to dance, not waltz.”
“Dammit, I wasted a couple of hours.”
He snorted. “Boy, if that was after a couple of hours, I wouldn’t want to see what you looked like to start.” He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “Okay, let’s get at it.”
“What?”
He grinned. “You wanna learn how to dance? I’m gonna show you.”
“Seriously, could you step on my foot again? I think there’s one toe you haven’t bruised or broken yet,” Aiden grumbled.
“It’s not my fault. You have such big feet.”
“You know what they say about big feet . . .” Aiden waggled his eyebrows.
“Fuck. Knock it off. Do you really need your hand on my ass?” I complained again, reaching behind me to tug his arm higher.
“Trust me, when you’re dancing with Becca, that’s where it will end up. Cami likes my hand there, right around the curve of her—”
I stepped back, holding up my hands. “Dude, I am not Cami.”
“No shit. Her ass is great, and she’s graceful. You need to relax.”
“I can’t relax! You keep telling me what to do and hugging me . . . and feeling me up! It’s just not right, Aiden!”
“Me telling you what to do, or the hugging part? Because, seriously—I like the feeling up part.” He winked. “You’re a little bony, but if I batted for the other team, I’d go for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are so immature.”
He held out his arms, waiting for me to take his hand. “Okay, again. You need a lot of practice.”
With a sigh, I stepped into position. “Watch where you put your hands,” I growled.
He chuckled. “Whatever, kid. You suck at this, but we’re gonna keep trying. Follow my lead.”
“That’s another thing. How am I supposed to learn if I’m following your lead? Won’t Becca expect me to lead? Maybe we should try that?”
He shook his head. “I lead. I’m the guy.”
“I want to be the guy.”
“Not right now.”
“No, let’s try it my way.”
“No! I’m the guy! I’m too big to be the girl. That’s your job!”
“I’m tired of being the girl!”
A voice made us both freeze.
“Is this what happens after hours around here? Maddox, you’ve been hiding things from me.”
Aiden and I separated, then faced the door.
Maddox and Richard VanRyan filled the doorway. They had their arms crossed, amusement written all over their faces.
“How long have you been there?” Aiden demanded.
“Long enough. I think the question is how long have you been at that?” Maddox responded.
Aiden glanced at his watch. “An hour or so.”
“I was practicing before he got here,” I piped up.
Richard’s expression said it all. My practicing hadn’t helped.
“Um, what are you doing here, Richard?”
He grinned. “I was in Montreal. My flight had a stopover, and there was a mechanical malfunction that grounded us for the night. I called Maddox to see if he wanted to meet for a drink, and he insisted on coming to get me.”
“And you’re here in the office because . . . ?”
“I heard they were auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance. And I wanted to come to see it for myself. By the way, the answer to the question is no. You can’t dance, Reid.” He started to chuckle. “In fact, both of you suck.”
“Hey!” Aiden frowned. “I’m a good dancer. Cami says so.”
“Uh-huh.”
“She never complains.”
Maddox burst out laughing. “Because all you do is crush her to your chest and fling her around. She hangs on for dear life.”
“If you think you can do better, be my guest.”
Maddox lifted an eyebrow. “You wanna make a little wager?”
“Sure.” Aiden put his hands on his hips. “Bring it.”
“Hey!” I objected. “I only want to dance with Becca at the wedding. Not be part of some sort of contest.”
Richard smirked, ignoring my words. “I’ll accept too. Double or nothing.”
“That confident, are you?” Maddox returned his smirk.
“When I first knew her, my wife could, and often did, trip over air. She’s gotten better, but she still finds being vertical a challenge at times,” Richard laughed. “When Katy dances with me, she’s grace personified. I think I have a lot to do with that.”
Aiden chuckled. “Okay then, I think we have a challenge. You each get a chance with him, and whoever shows him how to dance the best, wins.”
“Um.” I scratched my head. “I really don’t want to dance with anyone else tonight. I think I’m good.”
“What’s the wager?” Maddox asked, ignoring me as he looked between Aiden and Richard.
“A thousand bucks.” Aiden rubbed his hands together. “Whoever teaches him to dance gets the cash.”
My eyebrows flew up.
Richard shrugged off his jacket. “You’re on.”