I shift uncomfortably. “I’m not sure I’m able for ball-like activities,” I admit softly.
Mark leans in, pressing a kiss to my cheek, and lowers his voice. “I’ve seen how capable you are of manykinds of physical activities, babe.” He pulls back as my face reddens. “We can go to a class, see how you find the dancing. Seb, you can come along. Call whoever’s car you slept in last night to join us.”
Eddie looks at Mark, and I swear Mark sees the look, but ignores it.
“And Eddie can bring Bethany,” I say.
“Eddie doesn’t like dancing,” Mark replies before Eddie can.
“And Bethany loves it. She’d love to go to a class.” I stare off with Mark until he folds.
“Fine. Eddie can come,” he says.
I was too preoccupied with Mark stonewalling Eddie to realise I’d agreed. I’ve danced on nights out before and enjoyed it, depending on the amount of drinks I had in my system. But I haven’t tried anything like waltzing or ballroom dancing in the past. I hold down my nerves. It didn’t occur to me that I could pass the ball yesterday, and I managed that with ease. And I have had the niggling worry that Mark might find himself growing bored with stationary dates. How will I know what I’m capable of if I don’t try?
I don’t know who Mark calls, but by the time we’re finished our tea, he has us booked into a dancing lesson that day and just after lunch, our group walks into a small dance studio in the city. Bethany ditched classes to attend, as did Tommy, who apparently is the owner of the car Sebastian crashed in last night.
Tommy sidles up to me as we wait for the dance teacher to show up. “You’re all looking a little pale today,” he remarks.
Bethany, in a vibrant green dress that makes her red hair shine like a flame, walks by. “Pale,” I repeat, as we both track her walk to Eddie, who watches her with a rather besotted expression.
“I know why Seb is tired, but you and Mark—forget it, I’ve just realised what I’m saying,” Tommy backtracks quickly.
I don’t want to get into it just before the activities start. “There was a small incident yesterday. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Tommy looks between Mark and Eddie, clearly noticing the hostility brimming over on Mark’s side. His gaze sharpens on Eddie. “Did he—”
“No!” I groan. “Don’t even suggest it. I’m having enough issues with Mark right now. In fact, Eddie helpedme yesterday.”
“Issues with me?” Mark swoops in, body bumping Tommy away from my left side, and he plants himself there.
I catch myself from scolding him. He did this earlier too, when we were walking on the sidewalk, when my gaze had been darting around, seeking out an unwelcome face. I hadn’t minded it then. Something about Mark’s tall form at my vulnerable side had felt reassuring. However, I don’t need reassurances of protection from Tommy.
Tommy scowls at the displacement and whacks Mark’s shoulder in a far-too-hard greeting. “Still an asshole, asshole.”
Mark responds with a similar unfriendly whack.
“Mark,” I say as Tommy walks away to join Sebastian against the wall. “You can’t pick fights with everyone.”
“He was practically on top of you.”
“He was not.”
“Oh, look, there’s the teacher,” Mark says, completely ignoring my complaint.
“Mark.”
Mark plants a kiss on my cheek. “Don’t worry if you step on my toes,” he says.
I shrug him off with a grumble.
The teacher, a young woman named Riona, introduces herself and begins the lesson. Sebastian and Tommy have already started, Sebastian coaching Tommy to an orchestra playing an upbeat tune over the stereo. Eddie and Bethany listen intently to her instructions, but Mark snags my hand and leads me away, promptly commencing a private lesson. I pay attention, following his lead. I’m uncertain in my steps, but gradually I gain confidence as Mark leads me around the hall several times.
He literally crashes himself into Eddie’s side, all elbows, and whirls me away before Eddie can do anything more than curse after him.
“Mark!”
But my scolding is lost in Mark’s grin. And after a few bangs, Mark calls out the occasional tip to Eddie and Bethany, his voice having lost its acid bite.
