Page 73 of Picking Daisies on Sundays

“I will buy you more if they get ruined.” The gesture was

really kind, but I didn’t have much time to mull it over because I was busy getting out of the car without tripping. Nothing like moving around in a skirt and trying not to flash anyone.

“Quick question: how many of these classes have you done?”

“About enough that I should look like I know what I’m doing, but not enough to do anyDirty Dancingmoves.”

I groaned. “So I’m likereallyreally behind compared to everyone else?” I may not be a perfect student, but that didn’t mean I was okay with being the one who had to play catch up.

“I saw you dance last week, it’s just like that.” He held the door open for me where we walked up a set of stairs to find a room full or mirrors and several of the Coldwell’s, the bridesmaids, and the groomsmen. Rhea and Claire were sitting off to the side with Grandma Coldwell, while everyone else chatted and changed into heels and removed jackets. I couldn’t have been more thankful for Jia forcing me to wear heels. However, I still couldn’t help but pinch at the tight fabric around my torso and hips.

There were so many people here, about fifteen, all who are about to see me step on Levi’s feet and not to mention, had already watched me chuck a softball at Bella’s head a few weeks ago. I wasn’t great at making group impressions apparently. At least Bella wasn’t here.

Sarah rushed towards us in the doorway and crushed me in a hug. “I cannot thank you enough for being here. My wedding would be plagued by Levi’s horrible footwork if you hadn’t come.” I’m pretty sure Jeff and Levi were rolling their eyes.

“Well, you haven’t seen me dance, so I wouldn’t thank me just

yet.” She laughed. But little did she know, I was completely serious.

The instructor insisted we all grab our partners and get into position. This involved me standing in front of Levi with an incredibly anxious face (that made him laugh) because I had no idea what they’ve been learning the past few weeks.

“It’s just like last weekend,” he repeated, but last weekend was thelast thingI wanted to be reminded of. “You’re going to place your hand here,” he said, taking my left hand and placing it on his shoulder. “And then I’m going to place my hand here,” he said, his voice sounding rougher than before, placing his right hand on my hip where the fabric of my shirt and the silk of my skirt met, leaving an area of my torso exposed to his hand. “And we’re going to hold hands here, just like last time. The only difference is to raise your elbows.”

“Alright class, you know the drill, begin dancing and I will come around!” the instructor shouted. Levi began leading us and I attempted to follow his steps. We were basically creating the shape of a square with our feet, was how he explained it.

“She’s scary,” I said with a horrified look on my face, while staring at the ground. If I stopped staring at our feet, then I was going to step on him.

“Oh definitely. She hit me off the head with a heel the first class. I’m slightly traumatized.”

I laughed; he made it easy. He smiled back.

“Is that a bird glued to her headband?” I said looking up. “Shit—sorry, sorry,” I said in a rush for stepping on his foot.

“Dani, you’re fine, don’t worry. Our only real audience right

now is Rhea and Claire.”

I looked over at them and they had huge smiles on their faces, giggling at us. He was right, no one else was paying us any

attention. They were busy not stepping on each other’s toes.

Levi was pulling my attention back to him though as he tugged on a piece of my hair.

“You used to always do that when you were uncomfortable,” he commented.

“What?”

“Pick at your clothes.”

“I’m not picking at my clothes.”

He rolled his eyes. “You are. Now tell me what’s wrong because I know something’s wrong.”

“Closer together! There’s too much room between you two. What is this, church? This is the tango, move closer!” the instructor shouted at us.

As embarrassed as I felt to be shouted at as an adult, it took every muscle in my face not to laugh. Levi was bursting at the seams with giggles.

But when we moved closer together, our bodies only inches apart, the laughter died.