As I pick up the leftover containers from Panda Express, I feel his hands on either side of my hips slowly pulling me backwards. He spins me around and plants a gentle kiss on my forehead.
“Juan,” I say, catching my breath, “I have to clean up and get you out of here before my parents get back home.”
He rolls his eyes, “We still have three hours Leyra, dance with me.” He takes the containers from my hands and tosses them in the trash. I take the chance at freedom and rush to busy myself with the dishes. I can not dance to save my life, there is no way I am going to embarrass myself like that. Especially not in front of him, I’d ruin any chance I could have with him.
He leans on the counter and stares at me. He’s doing that thing, trying to make me feel awkward until I give in and do as he asks.
“You know I can’t dance,” I finally say without ever meeting his eyes. I take my time rinsing off the last cup, gently caressing its sides, spinning it around, making sure every last soap suds has been washed away.
“Yes you can,” he argues “come on, just one song babe.” How can I say no to that? I have yet to meet his gaze but I can feel his brown eyes caramelizing as his focus intensifies on me.
I dry my hands off and place the towel on the countertop. Before I can turn around he has my wrists in his hands and gives a small tug, playfully pulling me towards him. I let out a small giggle at his playfulness, anyone else would think he was a big meanie but I knew better. He holds our hands at our sides, using his beautiful brown eyes to stare deeply into mine. I can feel my heartbeat in my ears as his look alone gives me chills.
He smoothly slides my left hand up and around his neck, and my right hand up to his chest. He places his right hand on the small of my back pushing me just a little closer to him in the process. He uses his free hand to quickly search for a song on his phone and it begins.
“It’s not hard okay, just listen to the beat and your body will follow,” he says as he starts swaying left and right.
“I have no sense of rhythm Juan,” I stumble a little and catch the tip of his boots with my bare toes. And the embarrassment begins.
“You’re doing fine,” he lies as he takes actual steps left and right. Its two simple steps, just like walking, and I can’t even do that.
“If you say you can’t dance, then why are you leading me?” He gives me the biggest of smirks I have seen him.
“I was not,” I blush and look at my hand on his chest. Times like these I’m so glad he’s a whole foot taller than me.
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