My lower half convulses. “Flirt,” I blush.
“Learning from the best,” he teases with a quick smirk.
I like this side of Dean.
We get out. Dean holds the shop door. He follows close behind.
The space is small. Could probably only fit about five students without feeling stuffy. There’s small stools, turning tables, and a whole lot of clay lying around.
“Welcome to Pottering Away!” A woman in her mid-forties bounces out from thin air. I step backwards and bump into Dean’s chest.
He steadies me with a hand on my hip.
“Sorry,” I look back shyly.
Her pink hair matches her makeup and outfit. “I’m Elisabeth, your pottery instructor for today.” She has a slight accent, but nothing I can’t understand.
“Hi,” I wave excitedly. “I’m Nova and this is Dean.”
“I know,” she reciprocates the wave. “I voted for you guys to go on a date.”
“I like her,” Dean whispers in my ear.
I choke on a laugh. “Of course you do.”
“Let’s get started shall we,” Lois sets up a make-do setting for us. A small professional flash shines in front of three stools.
“We’ll be using two stools.” Elisabeth says to Lois. “You can remove the lights.”
“I need them for?—”
Elisabeth says something in French? Then the lights in the shop turn off. A ray of sunlight lights up the space. Dark but still enough light to see.
“For the romance,” Elisabeth emphasises. “Lighting is key.”
Lois mutters under her breath, then turns the professional lights off.
Elisabeth guides Dean and I to one spot, she drags another stool behind the one there.
“Elisabeth, don’t we need separate turn tables?” I ask her.
“Yeah,” Lois adds. “I need it for the camera shots.”
“No, no.” She exclaims, bouncing to the table on the opposite side. “This pottery class is for couples. We don’t make, wecreatea relationship. In this class, the clay will teach you physical intimacy.”
Don’t know how much more we need. I can feel Dean without touching him.
“That seems unnecessary,” Lois voices. “We should have a regular pottery class.”
“Did it look like I asked for your opinion?” Elisabeth sharply retorts. “Take a seat,Louise. The class will begin.”
“It’s Lois—” Elisabeth glares at her. “Never mind.”
“I’m scared of her.”
Dean’s chest vibrates with a chuckle. “I want her autograph.”
I roll my eyes.
