Time of My Life (Oceanic Dreams #2)

by Laura Heffernan

  Then I showed the class the basics: walking around the pole, dipping and twirling, rocking our hips back and forth. Lisa moved mechanically, which didn’t surprise me. That woman needed to learn to let go. Heidi, on the other hand, did great. Clearly better than she expected, judging by the smile on her face. And Cassandra, the woman who smiled at me early on, turned out to be the fiercest woman in the room. The way her hips wiggled back and forth as she moved around the pole taught me a thing or two about sassiness.

  Finally, I’d worked my way around the entire class, ending with Frank. After the way my body reacted to seeing him in those shorts, the prudent thing to do was avoid him as long as possible. I didn’t want to think about how I’d make it through our performance, which he would do bare-chested with me wearing a glittery bra top and booty shorts. Our bodies…No. I brushed the thought aside, forcing myself to remain professional.

  “Hello, doctor,” I said. “How are you enjoying the workout?”

  “It’s tough, but doable.” He quirked an eyebrow at me as he glanced down my legs, gaze ending at my Pleasers. “I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy on your ankle.”

  “I am! It’s all bandaged up, just like the doctor ordered.”

  “My instructions didn’t include walking on stilts.”

  “Come on! These are only five inches,” I said. “Besides, I’m so used to walking in heels, trying to move around flat-footed might make me more prone to injury.”

  “I doubt that,” he said. “Just promise me to sit and elevate that ankle between classes.”

  “Yes, sir.” His concern softened me toward him, but I reminded myself that he was a doctor. Clearly one with an excellent bedside manner, but nothing more.

  Frank grinned at me. Over his shoulder, Lisa seethed silently. Not wanting to risk getting in trouble by pissing off a passenger friendly with both my boss and the owner’s daughter, I switched back into instructor mode. “How are you doing with the basic chair spin?”

  “Oh, it’s no problem.” With his right hand, Frank reached over his head, raising up onto his toes. He walked three steps before pulling so smoothly, I wouldn’t have seen the muscles clench without looking for it. His legs came up off the floor, knees to his chest, while his left arm stretched across his body to rest on the pole. His body swung in a circle. If I’d had reason to doubt his dancer’s background, those fears were immediately put to rest.

  “No fair showing off!” Lisa said behind him. “We didn’t all minor in dance.”

  Frank’s face turned red as his toes came down to rest silently on the ground.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “Pole is a great workout for all skill levels. Here, Lisa, let me give you a few tips.”

  To my surprise, she allowed me to help her. Once she relaxed, she improved dramatically.

  “How do you move around the pole like that?” Lisa asked suddenly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you were showing us what you can do, at the beginning of class, you rotated around and around like it was nothing. Why weren’t you screaming as all the skin ripped off your hand?”

  “Actually, I wondered that, too,” Frank said from off to our right. “The friction must be killer.”

  I reached out and grabbed the pole with one hand, twisting it the barest fraction of an inch in each direction. “These poles are locked. Mine isn’t. For most of the complicated tricks, I’m not rotating around the pole. It’s moving, and I go with it.”

  “Ahhh. So all you have to do is spot?” Frank asked.

  More reassurance that he knew what he was doing. “Not exactly. The pole is the focal point, so you don’t need to look into the distance. With some moves, we’re spinning too fast to spot on anything. It’s about practice.”

  Frank turned a bit green, and my stomach dropped.

  I opened my mouth to reassure him, not even sure what I’d say without tipping Lisa off that our relationship went beyond “teacher and student for one class.” She knew we’d met at the port, obviously, but not what happened since. If I had any say, it would stay that way, at least until the Talent Show.

  Heidi called me from across the room, interrupting our conversation. I couldn’t neglect my other students, so I went to her. She needed me to walk through the moves again, showing the proper points for applying pressure to the pole in order to achieve liftoff. Really basic stuff, and something I generally loved showing people. No one expected a pole fitness class to include a physics lesson.

  I couldn’t stop glancing at Frank behind my student’s back. If he bailed, Penny and I would be in trouble. He refused to meet my gaze, staring at the pole as if it contained the secrets to the meaning of life. There was no way to tell if he was super focused or simply avoiding looking at me.

  From the look in his eyes when I’d gone to help Heidi, I had a sinking feeling I knew the answer. He may be the one with the fancy, expensive education, but I’d learned plenty at the school of life. People who intended to help you didn’t wear the expression on Frank’s face for the rest of class.

  At the end of the hour, I thanked everyone for attending. Briefly, I explained my availability until the end of the cruise and reminded them to return their shoes to the laundry basket in the corner. I stopped Heidi and her friends to see how they were doing and invite them to another class. It looked more natural when I talked to multiple students rather than making a beeline for Frank. Once they left, a couple of other women had questions.

  Behind them, Lisa turned toward the door. A glance at her feet told me she’d brought her own heels. Pleasers made shoes in a variety of styles, heel heights, and colors, but I’d never seen anything like the shoes Lisa sported. That didn’t surprise me. She didn’t seem the type to wear borrowed footwear, even for a one-time exercise class.

  My heart sank as I watched Frank file out of the room behind her. He didn’t spare me a glance. The twisting in my gut told me he wasn’t coming back.

  Chapter Five

  Throughout the rest of my morning classes, I kept an eye out for any promising student, anyone I might convince to help me out with the Talent Show finale. Maybe I’d get extremely lucky and National Pole Champion Carly Child would wander through the doors of my studio. Or maybe Penny’s nausea would miraculously vanish.

  Somehow, I suspected I’d have more luck trying to whip Cassandra into shape as my new partner than waiting for either of those events. Maybe she could sashay around while I flipped and spun.

  Ugh. With a sigh, I flopped down onto the floor, stretching while I tried to summon the energy to go to lunch, where I’d have to tell Penny I scared away our only hope.

  A voice broke the silence. “I’d offer a penny for your thoughts, but the way you’re glaring at that pole makes me think you’d want at least a nickel.”

  My head shot up. Frank stood in the doorway, in the same t-shirt and shorts as earlier, grinning at me.

  The sigh of relief that escaped me could have carried the ship all the way to Jamaica. “I can’t believe you’re here. When you left, I thought you’d changed your mind.”

  He shook his head. “Have a little faith. Lisa wanted to talk to me, so I went with her to avoid arousing suspicions.”

  “You afraid to be seen with me?”

  “I’m afraid that she’d hear why I’m dancing with you and say something to Max or Nellie. Did you want me to tell her?”

  Oh, right. I unclenched my jaw. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

  He reached out a hand, lifting me to my feet. “It’s okay. I imagine I’d have the same concerns in your position. But I’m here to help. Where do we start?”

  “The first step should probably be to show you the routine,” I said. “But I worry about scaring you off.”

  “Isn’t a partnership about trust?” Frank asked. “In ballet, if I don’t trust my partner, I can overcompensate, use too much muscle, pull too hard, and seriously injure her.”

  He was right, and we both knew it. I felt ashamed for t
hinking about hiding the routine from him. Especially because I needed to know his weaknesses. Which moves terrified him? Which might we need to alter because he had a different body type than Penny? Better yet–where would I be able to push the routine, make it more difficult, enhance the doubles tricks in a way that showed off his strengths?

  Taking a deep breath, I reached for the hem of my shirt and lifted it above my head.

  Frank swallowed. “What are you doing?”

  “Earlier today, you asked me about friction. We get it from skin on the pole. You and me both. There’s a reason pole dancers typically only cover the areas absolutely necessary. It helps with the holds.”

  “Interesting,” he said. “Does that mean I’m dancing without a shirt?”

  Unfortunately. I’d spent an hour last night tossing and turning, trying to keep that very image out of my head. “It does. We need to toughen your skin this week. That reminds me…” I went to my gym bag in the corner and pulled out two oranges, which I tossed to him.

  “You want me to juggle?”

  “I want you to eat them.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not hungry. I’ll grab something when we’re done.”

  “You’ll do that, too, but first, eat those,” I said. “The Vitamin C helps prevent bruising. You don’t want to walk around all week trying to explain to your sister why you’ve got a bunch of bruises on places like the tops of your feet or your armpits.”

  He blinked several times. “Bruises…armpits?”

  “We call ‘em pole kisses,” I said. “Once you get used to the pole, you won’t get them, but we don’t have time. For now, an orange before and after each session. If a bruise appears, rub butter on it before bed, then sprinkle it with salt and cover up with good, thick socks.”

  “Turning me into a baked potato isn’t going to reduce bruising,” he said. “That’s not how science works. You’re trying to make me look ridiculous.”

  “I wish,” I said. “It’s a real thing.”

  The look on his face clearly conveyed that he didn’t believe me, but it wasn’t worth arguing. Tomorrow morning, he’d have a different point of view. For now, we’d spent enough time talking. Telling him about pole, even talking about the routine, wouldn’t have nearly as powerful an effect as showing him.

  I strode to the stereo system in the corner and pulled up a song. Then I pulled my hair back, shook out my arms, and tossed him the remote. “When I give you the signal, press play.”

  The routine started with Penny and me–that is, Frank and me–lying on the ground, each curled in a ball around a separate pole. I got into the position and raised my arm, counting to three with my fingers. A moment later, the opening notes of (I’ve Had) the Time of My Life filled the room. I’d shortened the song for the performance, since the original clocked in at nearly five minutes.

  Slowly, I stretched in time with the music, laying out on my back, then rolling over, sitting up, and grabbing the pole. With a leg swing, suddenly I spun up the pole, legs stretched in a vee on either side. With the click of my heels, I landed on my feet before the tempo increased and threw myself into the heart of the routine. Kicking, spinning, twisting, jumping. Back and forth from one pole to the next. When I got to the parts that required the two of us to work together, I modified the moves to give him the idea. Three minutes later, the music faded away as I lowered myself to the ground, once again curling into a ball around the pole.

  Then I popped up, turning toward my audience with a bow, anxious to see his reaction. I’d tried sneaking peeks here and there during the performance, but pole didn’t work that way. Not for me. I practiced each routine endlessly until the movements came as naturally as breathing. Once the opening notes filled the room, the music carried me into an almost trancelike state. I barely had any awareness of the world around me until I finished. The Aphrodite could’ve hit an iceberg without me noticing.

  Frank watched me, eyes wide, still as stone. I could’ve knocked him over with a feather. But the expression didn’t seem like fear at what he would be expected to do in a few short days. No, unless I misread him, the emotion covering his face was…awe. As I stared, he came alive, clapping slowly at first, then with enthusiasm.

  “I’ve never seen anyone look so alive,” he said. “I know you thought I’d be scared by the difficulty, but I want to feel the way you look. I’m in, one hundred percent.”

  After my demonstration, we parted for lunch. Pole burned a lot of calories, and while I could get through a morning of beginner classes without doing anything too strenuous, Frank and I would be working hard all afternoon. I sent him to the dining room with instructions to eat as if he had a long day of ballet practice coming up, then come on back.

  Since we couldn’t arrive at the studio together and I really did have my own training to work on, I downed two meat-loaded slices of pizza up on deck, then went back twenty minutes before our scheduled meeting. After refilling my water bottle plus a spare for my partner, I changed into my workout clothes and started stretching. Soon, my warm-up music filled the air and I dipped, spun, and swung.

  When the music stopped, clapping filled the air, startling me. After so many years of dancing to a chorus of hooting and hollering in the clubs, my grip didn’t slip even a centimeter. I simply lowered myself to the ground and turned toward Frank’s appreciative gaze with an exaggerated bow.

  “Wow,” he said when I straightened, looking up the length of the pole at the ten-foot ceilings before returning his gaze to my sports bra and booty shorts. I shivered, and not just from the cool ocean air against my exposed skin. “I know you showed me the routine earlier, but seeing you let yourself go like that? It’s amazing.”

  His words made me flush with pride. So many people looked down on my job. I pretended not to care, but it meant a lot to hear someone appreciate my hard work. “Thanks. How long have you been watching?”

  “Not long,” he said. “Can you show me another trick?”

  “I plan to show you lots of tricks.”

  The words were out of my mouth before I caught the double meaning. Frank got it, though. His grin sent a jolt through me, reminding me that no matter how much I lied to myself, I had it bad for this guy. “I meant the really advanced stuff.”

  With a nervous cough, I said, “We should start with the basics. You got a good base in class this morning with the chair spin and the climb, but there’s so much more.”

  “We’ll get to all that, but watching you is inspiring. Just one move. I still can’t believe you climb that thing while it’s spinning.”

  “It’s easier than it looks. Stand back.” I reached for the pole with my right hand, then placed my right shin bone along the length of the metal, knee on one side, ankle to the other. With a small tug, my left leg left the ground, swinging smoothly in an arc before wrapping around the pole to meet my other leg. As I moved, the momentum from my swinging leg brought the pole around in a smooth circle, turning me back around to face Frank.

  “That’s awesome,” he said.

  “You’ll be doing it yourself by the end of the day. You remember me mentioning physics this morning?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Pole has three key elements: push, pull, and momentum. Every move needs all three. For example, in the swing we did this morning, your momentum comes from the steps. You pull with your upper hand while pushing against the metal with the hand across your body. Push, pull, momentum. There’s a bit of geometry, too. We’re largely making triangles. But start with the physics.”

  “Push, pull, momentum,” he repeated. “When you put it like that, it sounds easy. How does it work in practice?”

  “Like this.” I reached up the pole again with my left hand, high above my head. My legs pressed against the pole. “Push.” I yanked with my hand. “Pull,” then scooted my legs up the metal rod. “Momentum.” Then I repeated the motion until I’d climbed to the ceiling. “See?”

  Frank let out a whistle. “You’re like Spiderman!
”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Holding myself aloft with my grip, I unwrapped my legs and swung them upward. My outside knee locked around the metal, and my inside leg fell back, the weight holding me in place. My torso fell backward, and m y arms spread out as if to say, “ta-da!”

  “A little warning next time, please. I thought you were going to crack your head open. Your legs must be very strong.”

  “The better to hold you with,” I said without thinking. Since I was hanging upside, all the blood had already rushed to my face, or I’d have turned purple. The air around us sizzled, which would never do. We needed to keep things professional. In an effort to lighten the mood, I said, “Spiderman never falls.”

  He approached, and our eyes locked. His dilating pupils made me want to go limp, sag against him. Sternly, I reminded myself to keep my leg on the pole, or this trick would end in disaster. “I guess that makes me Mary Jane.”

  With a start, I remembered the scene he was talking about. In one of the movies, Spiderman hangs upside down, and Mary Jane moves his mask enough to kiss him. Frank’s lips were at the perfect height to recreate that moment. I could stop him. I could release my grip enough to slide down and place my arms on the ground, then kick over. Or crunch my abs up, taking myself out of his range. Desire froze me in place. It was such a bad idea, but my lips tingled at the thought of Frank kissing me.

  Someone coughed. It wasn’t me. I jerked my gaze away from Frank’s luscious mouth to find Penny standing in the doorway. “Hey, guys.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, trying not to sound annoyed. In all honesty, she’d saved me from making a huge mistake. I needed to get ahold of myself.

  “I’m here to help,” she said. “As much as I can while leaning against a wall and trying not to puke.”