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“Step one, two, three.” Baby counts out loud as we twirl round the dance studio.

He’s taken to hanging out in the studio.

If I’m teaching, he sits in one of the chairs and reads, though I know he steals glances at me, as I do of him.

He’s a distraction, but a good one, and there’s no way I can send him away.

In between lessons we dance, but I can’t seem to get enough of him and would rather hold him and kiss him.

I grab him round the waist and pull him closer.

“Do you think you can step into my dance space?” He grins at me, wriggling out of my grasp and lifting his arms to dance again.

“You need to lock your frame, Johnny boy.” He smirks.

“Johnny boy?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Uh-huh.” He gives me a beautiful smile as he dances past me.

A smile that lights up his pretty face, the one I see when I close my eyes at night and think of when I wake each morning.

I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, and I know it can’t last but I can enjoy it just for a little while.

I can also play his game. I crook my finger at him, gesturing for him to come on over.

“Well, little Mr Fix-It. Come over here and fix me.”

He dances over and right on past me, wiggling his cute backside as he goes.

“Hey!” I exclaim, and he circles back around and into my arms. I hold his hips and push my thigh between his legs, enjoying the sight of him trying to keep it together as we writhe together.

We both hear a tread on the steps outside and jump apart, Baby continuing to dance. There isn’t another lesson for at least half an hour, so when I turn I see Nicola standing in the doorway.

“So, this is where you’ve been,” she says to Baby, her voice holding a hint of accusation.

“I’m taking dance lessons, so I don’t step on your toes,” Baby manages to say smoothly, still moving round the floor.

“That’s sweet of you,” she says in a way that makes my stomach curdle. “But I could have taught you. She dances a couple of steps.” I tend to show my emotions on my face, so I daren’t risk looking at Baby. I turn away and go over to the record player.

Nicola follows me over.

“So, Johnny, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the dance for the last show on Sunday night.”

This sounds promising, so I decide to go for it .

“I have some great ideas. I’ve been working with the entertainment staff on a crossover from some of the steps they’re doing in the clubs.”

I demonstrate a couple of moves, quite raunchy but nothing close to how we dance in the staff room. That would never be seen on the dance floor.

“Woah, that’s a bit too much.” Nicola puts out her hands and I come to a stop. “Listen to this. Every year we dance the mambo, but I was thinking this year we could dance the jive?”

“The jive?” I’m not sure what era she thinks we live in.

“The jive, that will get them going.”

Yes, about thirty years ago it might have. But I can see on her face that her mind is made up, and that it would be too much for her to accept anything new or exciting.

“Yeah, sure,” I say, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice. She walks back across the room.

“I’ll see you later, Baby, and you can show me what you’ve learnt,” she says. The thought of him dancing with her floats into my head, and the record I’m holding nearly breaks in my hand.

I feel Baby’s hand on my back.

“You should stand up for yourself, get to do what you want to do, no matter the consequences. You’re the expert and you have a real talent for choreography. You need to tell her that.” He always makes it sound so easy, but it doesn’t work like that.

“It’s not that simple. I need to be able to come back next year.” I put my arm around his shoulder and he leans into me, offering a little comfort. I just wish I could share his optimism too.