The first rays of morning light peek in through the dirt-coated windows, ricocheting off the mirrors. It's almost like being back at the company's studio... almost. Dust particles cling to the air I slice through as I follow the music like a map leading me to where I need to go.

What I love about dancing is the way the world just fades, disperses into just a blur of colour and shapes. The world loses all importance. It's just me and my body. Nothing else matters. And once something stops mattering, it stops being frightening too.

Or that's how it used to feel. After Mum died, every time I danced, I thought of her. Her absence was a permanent ache, like I was perpetually staring into the audience, my eyes fixated on the one empty seat.

I pirouette, my eyes gripping to a spot in the wall, but all I see is Mum's empty seat, and my knee twinges. I gasp as my knee buckles and I drop to the ground, swearing loudly as I slam my palms into the dirty floor.

I'm in Dad's sweat-soaked, foul-smelling gym with only the sparse sound coming from my phone to dance to. I'm in the private space at the back, one half filled with a boxing ring whilst the other half has been emptied, ready for me to train with Daniel.

Three of the walls are covered in decades of history—with fight posters dating back to Dad's day, one wall has been spray-painted with a monochrome mural of boxing images. The fourth is lined with an awkward arrangement of mirrors and a few freestanding ballet barres that I gathered from a few local dance studios after copious amounts of begging.

"That was incredible!"

I yelp, clumsily dragging myself up. My knee throbbing along with my racing heart.

"What the hell!" I yell, my voice ricocheting through the room.

Dad and Daniel are standing there, staring at me. Daniel has a wide, almost goofy grin on his face. Dad's face is a neutral mask—I can't read it. I'm not sure if Dad has ever seen me dance before. He's certainly never come to any of my performances. I bend down and pick up my towel, wipe it across my hot face.

"You really can dance, huh?" Daniel says, still grinning.

"Well, that's why I'm here, isn't it? To teach you ballet." I throw my arms wide, stepping back to show him how I've altered the room.

Daniel chuckles, wandering towards me. He's wearing a large grey T-shirt already dotted with sweat and baggy gym shorts. His tanned skin is glowing, so he's already done some kind of work out and it's barely first light. At least I know he's dedicated.

He glances at us in the mirror, his eyes roaming my body's reflection. I'm regretting not keeping my vest over my leggings and sports bra, but it's hot and airless in this gym and it's not like I haven't noticed the impressive width of his shoulders...

"What is all this? What have you done to Frank's gym?"

"It's not just a gym anymore. This room, this is our ballet studio."

"It looks great, Cass," Dad mutters as he walks closer, staring around the room. I feel my cheeks heat. I'm not sure why I care about his opinion but apparently I do. And I don't like it one bit.

"Are you planning on just standing there or are you going to go and do something useful?"

Dad's eyes widen but then he throws up his hands and walks towards the end of the gym.

"Fine, fine... I'm going, I'll see you two tonight, OK?"

I frown. "Tonight. What's tonight?"

Dad grumbles something under his breath. "One of the sponsors is throwing a party to celebrate the rematch. Bill runs a sports cocktail bar and he likes any excuse to fill it with actual sports stars..."

"Instead of the usual parade of armchair pundits..." Daniel laughs, and Dad's eyes snap to him unhappily.

"Well, considering he's been with you since the beginning I think you'd want to show him a little more respect."

Daniel stuffs his hands into his pockets and nods sheepishly.

"I know, I know. Bill's great."

"What has that got to do with me?"

"You're Team Knight now, our resident ballerina. They'll expect you there, and so do I."

"To a sport-themed cocktail bar..." My hands snap to my hips and I glare at Dad.

"Yes, and you'll smile, be nice to the sponsors and do what you need to keep them happy. Understood?"

"Excuse me..." But before I can argue further, Dad turns away and stomps out of the room.

"Now get dancing!" he yells gruffly as he goes.

Exhaling, I stand there, scowling at the space Dad was standing in. Then I turn to Daniel, and my stomach dips. I've never taught anyone before and I'm nervous. The way he keeps looking at me is not helping either.

I take a calming breath or try to in the thick air laced with rubber and BO. My hands knot and unknot before me.

"OK, so we're going to start off with some basic moves..." My words drop when I see Daniel peering unhappily at the barres. He exhales and rubs the back of his neck. That charming smile sliding into something else. I see the way his mouth twitches. I know what's coming before he even utters a word.

"Listen, I mean. I need to learn how to... improve my speed, my movement. But what you were just doing... It was incredible, don't get me wrong, but I'm a fighter, I don't need to do all those... twirly things..." He raises a hand, his finger spinning. Rolling my eyes, I fold my arms across my chest. Daniel sees my expression and his condescending smile drops a little. "I'm sorry... I just mean..."

I step forward, and he frowns down at me in surprise. I'm close enough that I can feel the heat of him. Close enough to poke him in the chest, which I do. Very hard. He jerks back and rubs his chest.

"Owww! And I thought ballerinas were delicate."

"And right there is your first mistake. Ballet is bloody, body-wrecking and fucking hard." I shake my head, taking another step as he continues to back away. "I appreciate you think this is going to be some kind of shortcut. That you can learn a few moves, some tricks without actually learning the hard stuff."

I poke him again and he yelps.

"I watched some of your fights a few nights ago. I don't know much but I can see you're clumsy, you don't control your body, you rely on having the strongest punch and them having the weakest jaw. You want the grace of a ballerina, the control, the flexibility, then you need to actually learn ballet. So by the end of the summer, that little twirl... which is called a pirouette by the way, will be just one of the many dance moves you'll know."

Daniel turns back to me, his full lips pouting like a petulant toddler. I fold my arms across my chest and pout just as hard.

"Well."

"Well, what?"

"Are you going to take this seriously or what? You told me how much work you'd already put into this. And this isn't a game for me either. Ballet is as important to me as boxing is to you. The only way I win is if you win, right?"

Daniel exhales, running his hands through his blond hair. He closes his eyes, his lips twitching.

"Fine. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Let's just get started." I walk towards the barre, and Daniel reluctantly follows. "We're going to start with a few basic moves. A little basic footwork and then we can move onto some harder things." My voice is cold, and I'm avoiding his gaze.

"Cassie..."

"So this is the first position..." I bring my heels together, my toes pointing outwards, watching Daniel to make sure he's watching the move.

"Cassie... I'm sorry."

I sigh and drop back onto the balls of my feet.

"I didn't mean to be..."

"An ass."

He grins.

"Yeah, an ass. I'll take this seriously. I promise. I won't disrespect you again." He puts a hand on his chest. There is something about the way he says it. So clearly, so sincerely. I nod, accepting the apology.

"And I'm going to make it up to you."

"You're going to. By positioning your feet into the perfect..."

"By making sure we have fun tonight. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better."

I stop, letting my hands drop from the barre. I can feel him staring at me, and my heart is speeding as much as I wish it wasn't.

"No."

He chuckles, nodding playfully. "Just no?"

"Just no. I teach you ballet, that's why I'm here. I'm not here for parties or nights out or to... get to know anyone better. You beat Xander Kane. I get paid, fix my knee and get my place back at the company. Back to my life. That's it."

"That's it, huh." He steps closer, his voice getting lower as he stares down at me. His midnight blue eyes catch the light and I struggle to find my words.

"I don't have time, I don't have room for anything else right now."

"That's a shame." For a moment neither of us move, we just stare at the other. The tension not breaking, if anything it grows stronger, more potent as the seconds tick on.

"What's a shame is your posture," I say finally, and use my hands to demonstrate how straight my back is, the position of my neck and shoulders. His eyes scour my body, his lips twitching.

"See what my body is doing?"

He smiles. "Oh yeah, I see everything your body is doing."

This really is going to be a long summer.