Page 29 of Curious Hearts (The Healing Hearts #2)

Ali was momentarily speechless. Before she could formulate a reply, the instructors called for their attention.

“Great work with the basics!” Teresa announced. “Now let’s try adding a pass. Leaders, you’ll guide your follower past you, maintaining that connection through your hands.”

She demonstrated with Diane, creating a subtle opening with her body as Diane moved past her, their joined hands arcing overhead in a fluid motion.

When Jessica tried it with Ali, the result was less elegant but functional—Ali successfully passing Jessica’s right side, connected by their joined hands.

“We did it!” Ali exclaimed, surprised by their success.

“It’s all about clear communication,” Jessica said, eyes bright with pleasure. “Like most things.”

As they continued practicing, adding more elements to the basic pattern, Ali found herself increasingly drawn into the intimacy.

The giving and taking of energy, an ebb and flow of space that required both independence and connection.

There was something deeply sensual about it, even for a klutz like her.

“You know,” Ali said as they completed another successful pass, “you’re good at this.”

“I’m just following the pattern,” Jessica replied, though Ali could tell the compliment had pleased her.

“No, you’re creating something new within the pattern,” Ali corrected. “That’s the beauty of this dance, isn’t it? Structure with room for interpretation,” she said in a mock haughty voice as though she were a seasoned instructor.

“Perhaps that’s why I’m enjoying it more than those rigid ballroom dances I learned as a teenager.”

The fact Jessica was enjoying the freedom within the framework seemed somehow significant to Ali. Before she could explore this thought further, the instructors called for another change.

“Great job, everyone! Now let’s switch roles. Leaders become followers, followers become leaders.”

Ali glanced at Jessica, eyebrows raised in question. “You okay with that?”

“Absolutely,” Jessica said, repositioning herself as the follower. “I’d like to see what it’s like from the other side.”

The band struck up a new tune, slightly faster than before, and suddenly Ali was responsible for creating and maintaining their connection.

To her shock, it wasn’t the disaster she’d anticipated.

There was something intuitive about Jessica’s body against hers, about using subtle pressure in their joined hands to communicate intention.

Jessica followed beautifully, responding to Ali’s cues with a sensitivity that made their movement flow more smoothly than seemed possible given Ali’s limited coordination.

When Ali guided her through a pass, Jessica’s body moved through the space with ease, maintaining the connection through their hands.

“This is cheating,” Ali laughed as they completed the pattern. “You’re making me look good by being so responsive.”

“That’s the point of a good follower,” Jessica replied, her eyes holding Ali’s as they moved back into the basic step. “To amplify the leader’s intention.”

“Is that what they taught you in those fancy dance lessons?”

“No,” Jessica admitted, executing a perfect triple step. “They taught me that the leader controls and the follower obeys. But I think I prefer this interpretation.”

The pattern Ali created brought them chest to chest for a moment, the brief contact sending a jolt of arousal through her body. Jessica’s slight intake of breath suggested she felt it too.

“Sorry,” Ali murmured, though she wasn’t sorry at all.

“Don’t be,” Jessica replied, her voice low enough that only Ali could hear. “I like the close passes.”

The touch of flirtation in her tone made Ali’s pulse quicken. She deliberately adjusted her leading to create another moment of contact as Jessica moved through the pass, their bodies brushing together before separating again.

They continued dancing, switching roles again for the next song, then back again, gradually adding more complex moves as the instructors demonstrated.

What they lacked in technical ability they made up for in connection, creating an increasingly fluid give-and-take that had them moving as a unit despite being complete novices.

And the physical conversation of the dance became increasingly charged as the evening progressed.

When Jessica led, she began adding variations—a lingering pressure of her palm against Ali’s, a gentle turn of her wrist that guided Ali closer than the pattern strictly required.

When Ali led, she found ways to create moments of contact—their shoulders brushing during a turn, their hips momentarily aligned during a pass.

During a break, they returned to their table, both flushed from exertion… and more. Jessica took a long drink of water, then set the glass down, her eyes finding Ali’s across the small table.

“This was an excellent surprise,” she said, her voice warm, making Ali’s stomach flutter. “I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself this much.”

“Even with my lack of coordination?”

“Your coordination is fine,” Jessica corrected. “And your enthusiasm more than compensates for any technical imperfections.”

Ali grinned. “I’ve built an entire career on that principle.”

Jessica laughed and then turned her attention back to the dance floor, watching the other couples move together. “Look at them all. No one’s worried about being perfect. They’re just... present. Enjoying the moment.”

“That’s the beauty of places like this,” Ali agreed. “Everyone’s too busy having fun to judge anyone else.”

Jessica’s expression turned contemplative. “I don’t spend much time in spaces like this.”

“Where people have fun?” Ali teased gently.

“Where perfection isn’t the goal,” Jessica clarified, her gaze returning to Ali. “It’s refreshing.”

Before Ali could respond, the band launched into a new number, and Teresa called out from the center of the floor.

“This next one’s for everyone who’s been practicing!

We’re going to try a sequence, but don’t worry, this is just about having fun.

Read your partner, allow it to flow, and it’ll work. ”

As if to emphasize the point, she executed a deliberately exaggerated misstep that had everyone laughing, with Diane catching and rebalancing her in a smooth recovery. The message was clear: mistakes weren’t just acceptable but expected, even celebrated, as part of the learning process.

“Well, shall we embarrass ourselves?” Jessica asked, rising and extending her hand.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Ali replied, taking it.

Jessica led for this dance, guiding Ali through the sequence with growing confidence.

When Ali missed a step, Jessica simply adjusted, her body compensating for the misstep without breaking their flow.

When Jessica led Ali through a turn that went slightly awry, their brief stumble became a moment of shared laughter rather than frustration.

The most complex pass brought them chest to chest, Jessica’s arm circling Ali’s waist for a moment before releasing her into a spin.

Jessica’s touch recalibrated Ali’s understanding of distance—anything beyond where they connected became irrelevant background noise.

And when she looked into her eyes, the world contracted further still, narrowing to twin depths of amber-flecked brown that rendered everything else not merely distant but entirely nonexistent.

By the final chorus, they’d abandoned any pretense of following the proper sequence and were simply moving together in whatever way felt right, their bodies finding their own rhythm within the framework of the music.

When the song ended, they were both breathless, standing closer than the dance required, hands still connected.

“That,” Ali said, “was definitely not what they taught you in your fancy dance lessons.”

“No,” Jessica agreed, her eyes bright with exertion and something that looked remarkably like joy. “It was better.”

They stayed for one final dance, a slower, bluesy number that had couples drawing closer on the dance floor.

This time, their movement was more intimate than technical, Jessica’s hand at Ali’s back drawing her nearer than before, their joined hands held closer to their bodies.

What began as West Coast Swing gradually transformed into something which could be frowned upon in at least thirty-one states, their bodies moving together with no concern for pattern. This was all about proximity.

“I’m glad we came,” Jessica said, her voice low enough that only Ali could hear. “Thank you for arranging this.”

“Even though I stepped on your foot at least three times?”

“Even then.” Jessica’s held her gaze. “Maybe especially then.”

“You’re too easily pleased,” Ali said, trying to maintain the lightness of their exchange despite the rising tension between them.

“Am I?” Jessica replied, her hand at Ali’s back pressing slightly firmer, bringing them closer together. “Then perhaps I keep my demanding nature for more private moments.”

Ali swallowed, pooling low in her belly. “How soon can we leave?”

Jessica’s smile, slow and deliberate, was answer enough.

* * *

The twenty-minute drive to Jessica’s house stretched Ali’s restraint to its breaking point. Jessica sat beside her in the passenger seat, outwardly composed but for the occasional brush of her fingers against Ali’s thigh when she shifted gears—casual touches that left trails of fire in their wake.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” Ali accused after a particularly distracting caress coincided with a lane change.

“Doing what?” Jessica asked, all innocence except for the slight curve of her lips.

“You know exactly what.”

“Perhaps.” Jessica’s hand settled more firmly on Ali’s thigh, not moving higher, just resting with a weight that somehow managed to be both comforting and maddening. “Consider it anticipation.”

“Any more anticipation and I’m going to crash this car,” Ali warned.