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I sat at the table nursing my Pabst, rubbing my ankle and watching Shayna dance. I swear that woman was conceived on a dance floor and was born to spend her life on one. I didn't look around to verify it, but I would have been willing to bet that most of the eyes in the place were on her and her partner. Not that he had anything to do with it. Shay made every man she danced with look like Fred Astaire or Gene Kelly even if they had two left feet.

Normally I would have been the one out there dancing with her, but I had sprained my ankle at work and was in no shape to do much in the way of walking let alone dance, but I had promised her a night out. Even in the best of shape I couldn't keep up with her on the dance floor so I was used to her dancing with others.

Most of the people there were regulars and they knew the signs. Once I sat down after dancing with Shayna and didn't get up for the next set they knew that they could come over and ask her for a dance. Shay would ask me if I minded and I of course never said no. Over the course of an evening I would dance about two thirds of the dances and the others would get the other third. I didn't really mind since I loved watching her move as much as I loved being out there with her.

As I watched her move to the music I was remembering how I met her. It was at a high school dance. She was there with a guy from the football team and he had no rhythm at all. He could move okay on the football ...

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