38 | almost

ALMOST

🪩

Diana tugged her hair into a high ponytail as she walked down the familiar hallways of the rehearsal studio. She had a lightness in her chest, that buzzing anticipation that always came with starting something new.

The studio door was cracked open, music faintly pulsing inside. When she pushed it open, the sight waiting for her made her grin immediately. Mandy Moore—the Mandy Moore, creative powerhouse and choreographer behind some of Dancing with the Stars' most iconic pro numbers—was standing in the center of the room with her hands on her hips, chatting animatedly with Alan, Pasha, Gleb, and Brandon.

"Diana!" Mandy spotted her first and waved her over with an infectious smile.

Diana felt her cheeks warm, she set her dance bag by the wall and quickly slipped off her hoodie, revealing her fitted rehearsal tank top.

"Hi!" she said, making her way over. Alan greeted her with a quick hug, his energy always warm and easygoing. Brandon bumped her shoulder playfully. Pasha smiled in his usual calm, understated way, and Gleb gave her a wink that immediately made her laugh.

"Okay, so here's the vision," Mandy said, clapping her hands together as she gathered them into a semicircle. "We're doing something sleek, powerful, and a little sensual. Diana, you're basically going to have these four wrapped around your finger. Think queen bee energy. Complete control."

That earned a loud laugh from Diana, who covered her mouth with her hand. "Wait, me? In control of these guys? That's a first."

Brandon smirked, already leaning into the tease. "Oh, you're going to love it. Mandy's basically giving you the royal treatment. You're the queen, and we're your—what—knights? Or maybe court jesters?"

"Speak for yourself," Gleb cut in, feigning offense. "I refuse to be a jester. I'll be the tall, brooding bodyguard."

Alan made a face, chiming in, "Guess that leaves me as the fun one."

Diana couldn't stop laughing, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. But inside, she couldn't deny the thrill of being at the center of such a dynamic number.

"Alright," Mandy said, gesturing toward the black circular table and four sturdy chairs. "This is our setup. Table in the middle, four chairs around it. We're dancing to Janelle Monáe's Make Me Feel, so you already know the vibe we're going for—sassy, playful, a little daring."

"Alright, let's start at the top," Mandy said. "Pose positions. Diana, you're center, slightly leaning on the table. Guys, scatter around, sitting on the table, but keep your focus off of her. When the music hits, that's when you look."

They positioned themselves, Diana standing tall with her hands back on the table. Mandy hit play, the opening beat of the song echoing through the studio. As Diana shifted her weight, the guys snapped their heads toward her in unison, a sharp, clean motion that made her laugh.

"Oh my gosh, that's intimidating!" she admitted, biting her lip.

"That's the point!" Mandy said, clapping. "You're commanding their attention. They can't take their eyes off you."

They reset and tried again, Diana working on embodying that confidence. She lifted her chin a little higher, moved with a touch more sway in her hips. Each time she moved, the four men followed with their gaze, and suddenly she really did feel like the queen Mandy had promised.

Then came the chairs. Alan, Brandon, Pasha, and Gleb sat down around the table as Diana circled them slowly. Her heels clicked against the wood as she dragged her hand lightly along the back of Brandon's chair before moving to Alan's, leaning down just enough to make him smirk in character.

"That's exactly the energy," Mandy said, nodding approvingly. "Playful, teasing, like you know you're in charge and they're just... waiting for your attention."

The guys leaned into it too. Brandon exaggerated a longing look when she passed him. Alan reaching out for her when she brushed his shoulder. Pasha, with his usual quiet seriousness, gave her this intense eye contact that almost made her break character. And Gleb, of course, smirked and tilted his head like he was auditioning for a cologne commercial.

"That's perfect. That's the push-and-pull I want," Mandy said with a smile.

They ran through it again and again until it started to click. Diana's movements became sharper, more deliberate. She tilted her head just so, paused at the right beats to milk the tension. The guys reacted in their own ways, each adding a unique flavor to the moment.

After about thirty minutes, Mandy gathered them again. "Okay, next section. Diana, you're going up."

She pointed to the table.

"Up?" Diana repeated, eyebrows shooting up.

"Yes," Mandy said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "On the table. Own it. This is your throne."

Diana hesitated for half a second, then shrugged. "Alright. Let's do it."

She climbed carefully onto the table, standing tall in the center while the four men circled below. Mandy directed, "You'll grab Brandon's hand first. Then your other hand goes right on Pasha's head—yes, like that. And then push down gently as you sink into your hips. They're all going to sink low with you. Very commanding, very in control."

Diana tried it once, tentative at first, then laughed when the guys dramatically sank in sync with her movement.

"Oh my gosh, this is so fun," she said, with a smirk. "I feel like some kind of goddess."

"You are," Mandy said with a smile. "That's the whole point. Own it."

Alan teased, "Total queen energy. Just don't get used to bossing us around outside rehearsal."

They ran it several more times, Diana slowly finding her confidence in the role. With each repetition, her movements grew more precise, her face more expressive. She started to revel in the control, laughing as she teased each of the guys in turn.

By the end of the session, sweat glistened on her forehead, but she was buzzing with energy. Mandy clapped her hands, clearly satisfied. "That's a solid start, everyone. We'll stop here for today. Tomorrow morning, we'll keep building on this foundation."

The group nodded, catching their breath and grabbing water bottles. Diana hopped off the table, still laughing to herself.

"Not a bad first day as queen, huh?" Brandon teased, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Not bad at all," Diana admitted, smiling so wide her cheeks hurt.

As they walked out of the studio together, she felt that same flutter in her chest she always got when something special was brewing. This number was going to be unforgettable—she could feel it already.

The morning sun filtered weakly through the glass panels of the rehearsal studio, casting streaks of pale gold across the polished wooden floor. The air inside still carried the weight of hours of movement—warm, faintly tangy with the smell of sweat. Diana lingered at the center of the room, her palms braced on the edge of the table.

Rehearsal had ended nearly 20 minutes ago. Alan, Pasha, Gleb, and Brandon had left in a flurry of laughs, water bottles, and rushed goodbyes, their celebrity partners already waiting in the adjacent studios. Mandy had hugged Diana quickly, praising the work they'd done so far and promising that tomorrow they'd put the finishing touches on the number. Then the door had closed, the bustle had receded, and Diana had been left in silence.

Her heels clicked as she ran through the lift again in her head. She perched carefully on the table, straightening her posture, arms hovering as if she had invisible partners around her. Then she sank low into her hips, mimicking the motion Mandy had taught. Her stomach twisted—not because it was physically hard, but because something about the transition felt clunky to her. Too stiff. Too mechanical.

She wanted to melt. To look seamless, sensual, commanding. Instead, she worried she looked like a stiff puppet learning its first steps.

She blew out a frustrated sigh, sitting down on the table and running her hands over her face.

The creak of the door startled her. Her head shot up, heart racing, and she froze when she saw the figure filling the doorway.

Malachi.

Her lips parted in surprise, and then she smiled instinctively. "Hey."

He leaned against the doorframe, dressed casually in joggers and a loose hoodie, curls slightly mussed as though he'd rolled out of bed and come straight here. His smile was easy, but his eyes softened when they landed on her. "Hey," he echoed, lifting his phone briefly in his hand. "I texted you that I was here, but you never responded. Daniella saw me wandering and said you were probably still in here, so I figured I'd check."

Diana's eyes widened as she moved to grab her phone on the chair by the wall. The black screen blinked awake, dozens of notifications stacked on top of each other. She hadn't looked at it in over an hour. "Oh my gosh—I'm so sorry. I was so focused on this choreo that I didn't even realize what time it was or check my phone."

Malachi pushed off the frame and walked toward her, hands slipping into the pockets of his hoodie. "It's fine. I just didn't want to barge in if you were still working."

His presence filled the studio in a way that instantly shifted the air. Diana suddenly became acutely aware of her appearance—her sports bra dampened with sweat, her braid half-loose at the nape of her neck, strands sticking to her skin. She tugged at the hem of her shorts, brushing at imaginary lint.

"We still on for lunch?" he asked lightly, tilting his head. They had planned to go to lunch before Diana had to be back for opening rehearsal.

She nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course. Sorry. I just...lost track of time."

He studied her for a moment longer, then frowned just enough for his eyebrows to pull together. "You okay?"

Diana blinked. "Yeah. Totally fine. Just—" she gestured vaguely to the table "—this new lift Mandy added today. It's not hard, I just...feel like I look unnatural doing it."

Malachi's mouth curved into a smile that was both reassuring and teasing. "I'm sure you don't."

That made her laugh, the tension breaking slightly. "You're only saying that because you haven't seen it."

"Maybe," he admitted, shrugging playfully.

She propped one hip against the table, arms crossing over her chest. "I would've asked one of the guys to stay and help me run it again, but they all had to leave for their rehearsals. Timing didn't really work out."

"I can help."

The offer came so easily that Diana's immediate instinct was to shake her head. "No, it's okay. We should get lunch."

Malachi didn't move, his eyes steady on hers. "We've got tons of time. C'mon. Show me what to do."

The corners of her lips tugged upward against her will. "You're serious?"

"Dead serious." He moved closer, tapping the table with his knuckles. "Where do you want me?"

Diana rolled her eyes but felt her chest flutter anyway. "Fine. But don't laugh at me if it looks bad."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She climbed onto the table, her heels clicking softly against the wood. Standing tall, she gestured for him to come closer. "Okay, so—you stand right here. When I sink low like this"—she demonstrated, lowering her hips, one arm reaching out—"I'm supposed to wrap my arm around your shoulders. You'll wrap one arm around my waist. Then you pull me toward you, and I'll swing my legs around your waist."

Malachi's eyebrows lifted, though his grin never faltered. "Got it. Arm around your waist, pull you in. Easy."

She gave him a look. "It's not as simple as it sounds. After that, you spin me—carefully—and then when you stop, you dip me back. I'll extend my left leg up, and you grab it. Then bring me back up."

He nodded slowly, absorbing her instructions. "Okay. Walk me through it."

They did it slowly the first time, Diana easing down, wrapping her arm lightly around his shoulders. His hand pressed to her waist, steady and warm, pulling her gently toward him. She swung her legs around his waist, heart thudding harder than it should've.

Her voice wavered slightly as she continued, "Then you spin."

He turned in a slow circle, his grip secure. She stretched out her leg, he caught it, and then carefully pulled her upright.

When her feet hit the floor again, she exhaled, stepping back. "See? It's not bad, but I feel like I look weird moving from the table into your arms."

Malachi shook his head, lips quirking. "No. You're overthinking it. Just go for it."

She laughed softly, pushing stray hair behind her ear. "Easy for you to say."

"Easy for both of us," he countered. "Trust me."

They ran it again slowly, marking through each transition so he could memorize the timing. Then, when he gave her a small nod of confidence, they tried it full out.

This time, everything clicked.

She dipped low, eyes locking with his as his arm slid firmly around her waist. He pulled her in without hesitation, her legs wrapping securely around him as though it were second nature.

Diana tightened her hold as Malachi spun them smoothly, the world blurring for a heartbeat before he stopped and eased her into the dip. Her back arched over his arm, hair spilling down, her leg stretched and held firmly in his grasp.

He pulled her upright, but not in a way that felt like practice. It was deliberate, almost reverent, his hands guiding her until her legs slid back around his waist. She could feel every line of him against her — his chest firm against hers, his shoulders strong beneath her touch.

Her arms looped around his neck instinctively, fingers curling into the collar of his shirt, brushing the damp heat of his skin. He adjusted his grip, one palm pressed broad and sure against the small of her back, the other securing her firmly at her hip. The contact was strong, grounding, but the heat behind it was anything but professional.

Their foreheads touched, a quiet collision that made the rest of the studio vanish. The small connection was intimate in a way Diana hadn't expected and she could feel the faint tremor in his breathing.

Her breath caught.

His exhale fanned across her lips, shaky, uneven, carrying the faintest trace of mint. The distance between them shrank with every heartbeat until it wasn't even a distance anymore, just a fraction of space alive with static.

Neither spoke. Neither dared.

Malachi's eyes flicked down — a quick, betraying drop to her mouth. He lingered there, his focus heavy enough that Diana swore she could feel it. Her lips parted in instinct, her chest pressing tighter against his as if her body made the choice for her.

Her pulse thudded in her ears.

She swallowed hard, and the movement made the tip of her nose brush his. The contact was feather-light, but it sent a rush of fire through her. "Malachi..." she breathed, the syllables fragile and trembling, not even sure if it was a plea or a warning.

His hand at her waist clenched, pulling her imperceptibly closer. The tiny shift made her hips align against his, made her heartbeat stumble into chaos.

His nose brushed hers again, slower this time, purposeful.

Her fingers slipped into his hair, tangling near the nape of his neck. He closed his eyes at the touch, his jaw flexing, the faintest sound escaping him — something raw, restrained.

And then, finally, his lips grazed hers.

Not a kiss — not yet — just the barest brush, a heated ghost of what they both wanted but hadn't dared to admit. But it was enough to make her breath hitch sharply, enough to make her fingertips press harder against his skin.

A muffled noise outside the studio shattered the moment. Laughter, footsteps, the sound of a door closing.

Both of them jolted, breaking apart by instinct, though their arms stayed locked around each other as if their bodies hadn't gotten the message. Diana let out a short, breathless laugh, her forehead dropping briefly to his shoulder. Malachi's crooked grin appeared, boyish and guilty, though his chest was still rising too fast.

Reluctantly, he eased her back onto her feet, steadying her as she wobbled slightly.

"The lift looked good," he said first, his voice a touch rougher than usual.

Diana smiled, trying to steady her own racing pulse. "It felt good. It was a lot smoother. Thanks for helping."

"Anytime."

She cleared her throat, glancing toward her bag. "You ready for lunch?"

He nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching as though he were fighting another smile.

She slung her bag over her shoulder, and together they walked out of the studio. Neither of them spoke about what had almost happened, but it lingered between them, humming like electricity under their skin—an almost-kiss neither of them could forget.

🪩

four chapters today bc im just so excited!!!we are so close to THE moment

also i have officially decided this story will have 65 chaptersand i only have 8 more to write🥺i'm actually not ready for this story to be done

BUTi have been thinking about ideas for a new malachi book so that may or may not happen 😊