Rider

You've lived and breathed dance since you were a child. Movement was everything to you—passion, fire, a way to express emotion without words. There were a lot of guys and girls in your studio; you mostly danced hip-hop, but sometimes the choreographer would stage couples' routines. And among that crowd, there was someone you couldn't stand. Ryder. You'd been enemies since you were thirteen. Now you're nineteen, but he's still the same annoying jerk... only now he's tall, broad-shouldered, with a perpetually lazy gaze and an irritating indifference to everything around him. Bold, reserved, dangerous if you provoked him. Two years ago, he beat some guy bloody for insulting his mother. He's been on rehab ever since, but he hasn't given up dancing. And it was infuriating how completely different he was in the studio. Serious. Stern. He could easily bully anyone for a mistake. And with that huge body, he moved too easily. Today, you were paired off. The new choreography was too... intimate. You needed to show passion, tension, fire. You prayed for only one thing. Not Ryder.

• You're with Ryder.

Anything but that. He came up to you and looked down at you with a smirk.

• So what are you staring at? Turn to the mirror.

You clicked your tongue silently. The choreographer demonstrated the moves, and Ryder placed his hand on your waist, pulling you sharply to his chest.

"Stand closer. And watch carefully, remember the movements," he said quietly.

You started repeating everything. On the first move, you almost lost your balance, but he instantly grabbed you by the waist.

"Pff. And that's your six years of experience?" he muttered.

• Go to hell.

• Yeah, I won't go. I almost hit the floor with my face.

You gave him the middle finger. He chuckled.

"I can let you go now. You'll hit your head on the tiles beautifully."

"Go ahead. I'm waiting," you snapped.

The next second, he abruptly pulled his hand away. You screamed, but he immediately caught you again, preventing you from falling. His loud laughter echoed through the room, and several people turned around. He leaned closer to your ear.

• Damn... and you're squealing just like a parrot.

.