Will spins me in a turn and pulls me back to him. My breath catches at the look in his eyes. I’ll always want you, he said. A week ago, heck, three days ago, I would’ve thought he was lying or had an agenda. But now…I’m not so sure. I think I could believe him. Which scares me.

“But there’s more,” Lydia says. “Dance, like marriage, is a partnership. Cooperation is key. If either dance partner showboats, or doesn’t respect the other, or refuses to compromise, or dislikes looking foolish, or doesn’t acknowledge the other’s feelings or respond to them, or isn’t respectful or honest with the other in how they want to “dance”—all those problems will come out in marriage. People could save themselves heartache and breakups by signing up for a dance lesson and seeing how they mesh on the dance floor. In ten minutes I can tell you what fifty years of marriage will look like.”

Will squeezes my hand and my heart lurches. But when I look at him, his face is inscrutable. Maybe I imagined it.

“So, how are we doing?” Will asks.

Lydia circles around us. I can’t bring myself to say anything, to tell Lydia that Will isn’t my soul mate.

I’ll always want you.

I look back at us in the studio mirror along the back wall. Will holds me tenderly, closely. He holds me as if he…cherishes me. His stance is open, vulnerable, like he trusts me. I grip his shoulders and look up at him. His lips twitch and there’s a hint of humor in his eyes.

“You’ll do,” says Lydia. “Your personalities go well together. There’s attraction. Sexual compatibility.”

I cough and Will pats my back. The corners of his eyes crinkle and I get the feeling he’s laughing again without actually laughing. How did I miss this before?

“The only trouble I foresee from your dancing is openness. Your stance is slightly guarded. You’ll have to open up fully, be honest, trust. La,” she trills, “you’ll get there. Miss Erma is never wrong.” She waves her hands and gestures at us.

I still stand in Will’s arms even though we’ve stopped dancing. I clear my throat and slowly step back. Will’s hand falls from my back and he slowly lets my hand go. My whole body vibrates with prickly warmth and it’s begging me to step back in Will’s arms and start dancing again.

I watch as Will swallows. His Adam’s apple visibly bobs. He glances at me, then away. There’s a heavy tension between us and it looks as if he’s visibly stopping himself from taking me in his arms.

I pull in a steadying breath. “What about soul mates?” I ask, remembering our reason for coming. “Will doesn’t know about soul mates.”