Whipped (Hitched #2)(33)

"Thanks," says Marvin. "Got it a year ago with my brother. How about you? Any tattoos?"

"Yeah, actually—"

"Okay, boys," says Angela. "You can compare tattoos later. Right now, Mama needs to party." She opens the door and Marvin follows her out.

Vi has a hand on her face, her cheeks red. "So, that's my parents."

I wrap my arms around her waist. "I like them. It's me I'm worried about."

"Just do some fancy dance moves. They'll love you."

"I hope so." I turn to go.

She grabs my hand. "You're really nervous about this, aren't you?"

"A bit."

"Really? Just a bit? Then why is your hand sweating?"

I pull my hand away and wipe it on my jeans. "Okay. A lot. I never impressed my parents."

"Your parents were *s."

"And yours aren't."

She raises her eyebrow. "I see. So you really want to impress them. Okay. Here's the game plan." She takes my arm and walks with me outside. "For my mom, impress her with your dance moves. Also, if you could do something extremely physical, like maybe pushups while I'm sitting on you, that would help."

"Really?"

She grins. "Okay, fine. The pushups would mostly be for me." We pause outside the car. "For my dad, just talk about mixed martial arts fighting—you know, MMA. He loves it."

I grit my teeth. "I don't know anything about MMA."

She shrugs. "Then just buy him cocktails and listen. It works for me."

"Thanks."

She presses her lips to mine. "You'll do great."

We pull apart and get in the car. "Where to?" I ask.

Angela gives me the directions to a nearby club. It takes ten minutes to get there. On the way, Angela and Marvin ask me about my hobbies—working out—my favorite TV show—Breaking Bad—and my opinion on zoos—don't have one.

"Zoos are evil," says Angela.

"Some help educate kids," says Marvin. Vi told me he teaches theater as well as produces plays.

They keep debating as we arrive at the club. The bouncer recognizes Angela and Marvin and lets us through. Inside, tables and chairs glow lime green. People dance to a fast beat and a live DJ. Marvin grabs Angela's hand and pulls her into the crowd. Vi wraps her arms around my shoulders, and we start swaying side to side. I want to do more than dance.

Vi runs a hand down my chest. "You should show off your moves."

I'm used to performing on stage. Performing in a crowd is different. There's no choreography. I'm in control. I decide when the show starts, when it stops. Freedom is mine.

"Soon," I say.

I wait for the next song. A slow deep beat comes on. I grin and pull away from Vi, finding some space. I start simple, my body flowing with music. Some people stop to watch. A circle starts to form around me. I have more space. My legs glide over the floor, my arms forming shapes in the air, starting and stopping to the beat. The circle of people grows again. Angela and Marvin are among them, cheering. I must have a quarter of the dance floor to myself. I add spins and flips to my routine. I lock my hands behind my back and flip forward, letting my head touch the floor. It's a tricky move. Painful when done poorly. Dangerous when done wrong. I perform it perfectly. Again and again.

The crowd roars with excitement. On my final flip, I stick my arms out, and instead of landing on my feet, land straight on my back. My arms and legs help absorb the shock. It barely hurts. People gasp. This is a move few can imagine doing.

I perform a kick-up, jumping back on my feet. The bridge of the song comes on. It's faster, and so am I, isolating parts of my body as they move to the music. As the song reaches the final chorus, I begin a series of trick jumps, twisting sideways through the air. On the final note, I land a double flip. I bow my head and hold my arms up. The crowd knows my performance is over, and they erupt in howls and cheers.

I walk into the circle, joining the audience, and a woman takes my place, her hips moving to the new beat. Once a performance has begun, others want it to continue. They want the energy of the applause.

Vi, Angela, and Marvin huddle around me. Angela squeals with her arms in the air. "That was amazing. Vi, honey, this one's a keeper." So mom's impressed. Check.

Marvin shakes his head up and down to the music. "Pretty good moves." Dad still needs work. Take note.

Vi's face is red. She's biting her lip. "I'll require a private performance later."

I grin. I know just the moves I'll use. The finish will be amazing.

We head over to the bar and order drinks. Marvin talks about MMA. We all nod along. "You ever practice fighting, Lachlan?"

If you don't count a few scuffles in high school, then… "No. Dancing was always my thing."

Marvin rolls his shoulders. "You should try martial arts. There are quite a few similarities between katas and choreography. Plus, you already have the flexibility. That was my biggest challenge."

Darrel taught me stretches along with my first dance moves. Each morning, I would push my body further and further until doing the splits became easy. Then I'd push more.

Angela checks her phone. "We should head home. I'll need to get up early just to get rid of my hangover."