Free She Laughs in Pink (Sheridan Hall #1) by Jessica Calla Page B

can’t believe she’s my teacher. I perform a little jete over my ballet bag and soon I’m dancing.
    I move around like an idiot and don’t look up until I hear a throat clear.
    Chase.
    He smiles and, like a moth to a flame, I’m drawn to him. I stretch my arms and arch my back, looking up at the disgusting ceiling. When I reach him and our bodies touch, I’m dancing a pas de deux with my Train Boy. I can’t help myself from saying, “I feel amazing!”
    He laughs, grabs me around the waist, and lifts me up. I wrap my arms around him. His muscles tighten under my grasp as he spins us in a circle. I sigh and pull away to look at his beautiful face. His eyes are locked on mine, but it’s his lips I can’t resist—they draw me in. With everything in me, I want to kiss them. We both stop laughing and he puts me down, but neither of us make a move to let go as we stand eye-to-eye.
    I’m looking at Chase, wanting him, but I can’t help whispering, “I love Ben.”
    Chase doesn’t release his hold on me. His hands on my waist heat me up like fire. “I know. I have a New Life Plan.”
    “Huh?”
    “Long story.”
    It sounds complicated, and I’m sort of interested but my body overheats from his closeness, and I don’t think I can follow along anyway. I should back away, but can’t. My body trumps my brain. Being near him and seeing the way he looks into my eyes penetrates me to my core. When he touches my face and strokes my cheek, I think I may pass out. My breath quickens, matching the beat of my heart.
    Chase rubs his thumb along my cheekbone, his fingers tickle my neck, and he leans in. I think he’s going to kiss me, but he doesn’t. He presses his forehead against mine and shuts his eyes. I grab his waist and pull him closer.
    He sighs, and I hook my thumbs together behind him, not willing to let him pull away. When he wraps his arms around me the same way, I know he won’t let me anyway.
    “Can I kiss you, Juliet?” His voice is a heavy whisper.
    I can’t think straight and don’t care. I repeat my mantra of the past four years. “I love Ben.” Somewhere inside of me, which isn’t accessible now because Chase is in my arms, it’s true. I do love Ben. Even though, for the life of me, I can’t remember why.
    He tilts his head and he breathes into my ear. “That doesn’t answer the question.” His breath heats my neck, and I need his lips to touch me—somewhere, anywhere. “Please?” he moans against my throat. It’s his word, but I feel it, too.
    He presses his lips onto my neck and I shudder, chills running up and down my body. He trails light little kisses up to my earlobe. I want to scream.
    I want more. I move my head so our lips are close, but Chase still won’t kiss them. He dips back down under my chin, nipping at my throat, driving me crazy. He moves his hands to my hair and tugs my tightly wound bun until it falls into a mess around my shoulders.
    I still need more. I move my hands up his shirt to his neck and push his head away from me. I open my eyes and hold his face as I lean in and devour his lips, hoping that kissing him will satisfy this need in me, hoping it will settle my racing heartbeat.
    Instead, it does the opposite.
    The kiss blows me away, scrambling my mind and pulsating through me, head to toe. I kiss his bottom lip, then his top, opening my mouth to taste him. He groans as his tongue teases mine. His hands fly down my body as if we’re on the clock and have only a few seconds to touch each other.
    He moves with me, pressing me against a wall, leaning his body into mine. I pull his hair, grab his shoulders, groping whatever is within reach. Outside voices invade our space as people make their way onto the platform, and I couldn’t care less—a bomb could go off but there’s no way I’d stop kissing Chase. Not here, not now.
    I’d spent my high school years teasing and flirting and avoiding all boys except Ben. I’d been kissed before but never like this. I