Read In the Air for Free Online Page B

the power to derail him. "Okay," I said simply.
    The same song from earlier was playing on loop. It was such a delicate piece, but the tension in the room was depleting any sort of beauty it held. I walked to the stereo, turning off his song and replacing it with my own – "Falling," sung by a favorite musician of mine, Jeffrey James. As the music began, I glided across the floor, knowing his eyes were studying me. I was aware he would analyze my every move, so I had to do my best. As I prepared myself for my grand jeté, I looked over at Samson and winked, hoping it would piss him off. Landing perfectly, I melted into my next step. I knew that if he and I were to have actually taken bets, he would've been walking away without his cocky, self-absorbed attitude. When I finished with a triple pirouette on pointe, I looked to the ceiling, the knowing smile remaining on my face.
    I gazed at Samson, who was now leaning against the back wall, his ankles crossed. The smug look that I was now well acquainted with spread across his face.
    "So, that's how they train ballet dancers in Iowa?" he asked.
    "Excuse me?" The happiness I held from my performance dissolved and was immediately replaced with anger. The unimpressed look he wore reminded me of my mother. My temper grew thinking of how dissatisfied my dancing had made her, and now Samson was acting the same. "What the hell is your problem? Why don't you take a look around and realize that people aren't bending down to kiss your feet." My cheeks began to flush and I knew that in no time, I'd have red splotches all over my face and chest. "And by the way, I'm from Illinois!"
    "I just thought you'd want a few pointers from your partner, but it looks like you're the one that can't handle criticism." Samson sauntered over to me with a devious look in his eyes. "Practice with me." When he grabbed my waist, I tried pushing against his chest to release his death grip.
    "Let go of me, Samson!" My anger erupted. When I was finally able to untangle his hands and push him away, I briskly walked to the back of the room to grab my things.
    "Where do you think you're going?"
    I heard his footsteps tailing me and knew that if I didn't get away from him and calm down, I might slap the pretty off his face.
    "We may as well practice together since we're both here. No point in wasting time."
    Apparently he wasn't picking up on how bothered I was. I turned to face Samson. He said the words with superiority, but the look on his face hinted at an apology. "What is your problem? Were you raised by wild animals or something?"
    "I'm not good at apologies, so I'll just say that I'm sorry you can't take a joke." His grin grew wider with each second that passed.
    "There's something seriously wrong with you." I shook my head, laughing at the thick tension remaining between us.
    "Can we just forget about all the drama and practice? I promise I'll keep my mouth shut the entire time," Samson said in a mocking tone.
    I huffed and squinted my eyes in thought. "Fine, but only on one condition."
    "What's that, doll?" He stepped forward, entering my personal space.
    "You quit calling me doll . My name is Natalia. Stop with the nicknames or my foot might accidentally trip you while we're practicing, and oops, there goes your ankle!" As I walked past him, I bumped his shoulder, and made my way over to the stereo. "Let's get this over with." I jerked my neck, commanding him to join me in the center of the room.
    The song I chose was by a band called Half Moon Run. It was a slow, passionate song, but if I was being honest with myself, I was curious to see how well he could move. I may have hated the overconfidence that seemed to flow through his veins, but his talent canceled out the bitter feelings.
    As the words, "If you breathe in, I breathe in," played, Samson's gaze penetrated into mine. We stood close to each other; the only sound in the room was the music. Between the sensuality of the song and the way he looked at