Falling (BWWM Romance)

Chapter Two

God must have answered her prayer because forty-five minutes later Mr. Baseball Pitcher was still alive and well and the beads of sweat rolling down his face served as her reward for keeping him alive. The girls had done well to keep up with her uncharacteristically rapid pace. It pleased her tremendously to watch him strain to mimic their movements. She was proud of her girls.

She saw Daniel grab his belongings and head wearily for the door, wiping his face on the hem of his T-shirt. Ella scolded herself for gawking at the steel-cut, drool-inducing abdomen.

"Ah, Monsieur Turner?" From the corner of her eye, she saw Kenneth fleeing the scene, arms full of sheet music, some of which fluttered to the floor. He didn't bother to pick them up as he scampered through the staff exit.

Little girls ran lightly around Daniel's long legs as he tried to make his way back to her.

Ella fumed as she heard the girls shouting on the way out, "There's a man in our class and he's a baseball player!"

Freed from the flood of girls, Daniel strode toward her, grinning. "You can call me, Daniel or Danny."

Evil visions once again danced in Ella's head. "Monsieur Turner." No way was she getting familiar with someone she would no longer have to put up with. "If you'd wait a minute, I'll see about getting you registered with students your size, I mean, your age." She dropped her gaze to her neat, brown hands so he wouldn't see her blush.

"I have a distinct impression you're trying to get rid of me."

Dear God, isn't it obvious? Ella cleared her throat. "Part of my job as ballet instructor is to help my students find the right class, not only for their abilities, but for their age."

"I like this class—it's pretty elementary which reduces my chance for an injury." He hitched the gym bag higher upon his broad shoulder. "Besides, I have to do something to pass the time. Off season can get pretty boring."

Ella's face heated and this time it was not from embarrassment. He called her class 'elementary,' 'something to pass the time.' She was not sure if she should take it as an insult or take it as a simple statement uttered by a simpleton. And his jaws were in motion again. She half expected him to hock a goober any moment upon the gleaming wood floors. She stepped back—just in case—and started on a different tact. "Don't you feel out of place with five-year-olds?"

"Actually they're just my speed."

Really? "Unfortunately, you cannot stay in my class. As soon as I contact the director, we will see about getting you into a more appropriate class." She frowned at his sweatpants and scuffed trainers. Thank God those hairy feet were covered up. "Furthermore, if you insist on taking ballet—no matter your mundane reasons—I suggest you wear the proper attire for this studio—black tights, white T-shirt and black slippers."

"I'm not wearing tights. Tights are for..."

"Go ahead and say it...tights are for sissies, right?" Ella folded her arms across her chest and beamed sweetly at Daniel. "I'm not much of an expert on baseball, but if I'm not mistaken, I'd say some ball players wear tights, too."

Daniel turned slightly pinker. "They're not the same thing."

"Have it your way, but let me tell you something—" Ella's brown eyes narrowed. "Ballet is a legitimate sport just the same as baseball. And in my class, I'm the coach. You got me? I decide protocol. If you're not here to learn ballet and to take it seriously, you can kindly step out of here and head back to the field."

He smiled. "You've got a point there. Believe me, I'm serious."

Her reasonable nature returned and she smiled. "We'll get this straightened out."