I do not own any Twilight characters. Stephenie Meyers does. That lucky, lucky woman!

BPOV

I hate dancing. I absolutely do. I can't even walk across a flat surface without becoming good friends with the floor. So to even try to dance...ha, yeah right. I hate it with everything that I am.

And it's not like I've never given it a try.

I remember my mom forcing me to take ballet lessons when I was a kid. While all the other girls danced gracefully during a dance routine, I kept being reminded of my clumsiness at every practice and recital -the dance teachers would always place me in the back row in the far corner in hopes that no one would notice my awkwardness.

For one program, I tried, I really tried my best to keep my balance on the stage floor. We had been practicing the Chaînés for weeks and the last few sessions I was really getting the hang of it. When I finally accomplished six sets of twirls in a row without so much as a wiggle, I had finally amazed everyone -especially myself. Some of the teachers were practically squealing and throwing confetti up in the air, raising me upon their shoulders. I was so high on life in that moment because I thought that I had finally overcome my clumsiness.

So high in fact that in the day of the recital, I didn't feel not one bit of nervousness. I was on stage twirling and floating along with three other girls and my big shinning moment came up where I needed to do my six-consecutive turns. Giddy and excited to show the world my accomplishment, I began my steps after the second girl, opened up my arms to help me twirl gracefully when my ballet shoes slipped from under me, tossing me towards the ground, and helping me get re-acquainted with the floor again.

Hi there, floor! How you doin'? It's me, Bella. Long time no see.

As I saw the floor coming closer to my face, I threw my arms out to catch myself, my hands slid across the floor, making my elbows collide against the ground with a loud thud and immediately reacted to the pain on my funny bone.

Ouch!

I don't know why they call it a funny bone when I didn't find this situation that funny to begin with.

But as I looked around my surroundings, the humiliation hurt worse. All sound around me became muffled, time all of a sudden seemed to go extremely slow. The classical music was playing in the background, but I heard loud gasps from the audience below as they realized what had happened. Even though the stage lights were bright on my eyes, I could faintly see my mother's expression of pitty and concern. All the while the three girls kept dancing around me, twirling happily as if nothing had happened. They somehow found a way to scowl at me while I was on the floor, and then like, light switches, their fake smiles would spread across their stupid faces for the audience to see.

I felt my face warm at my embarassment, my tears threatening to brim over, my lungs working hard to catch the air that had been knocked out of me with the fall, and I was still in pain from the impact.

But I stood up, and tried to find my way back into the song which thankfully was close to its end. The second the song ended and the curtains came down, the girls scowled at me once again and walked away from me in an instant with their noses raised high, making me feel like I'd betrayed them.

Great. So much for friendship.

I walked off stage devastated and searched for my mom for comfort. Crying into my mom's chest, I swore to myself that I would never go to another dance school again. I hate dancing.

Yes, it happened when I was 7 years old, but sometimes events like those stay with you for the rest of your life.

So since then, whenever there was an event that required dancing, I wouldn't join. When a guy would asked me to a school dance, I would politely turn them down. Everyone in school already knew I was clumsy. No need to make a spectacle of myself at Prom.

But as much as I hated to dance, I couldn't stay away from this loud and overcrowded place. Voluntarily, I've been coming here for the past four weekends -always hoping to be able to dance the night away. Why am I such a masochist?

My best friend Alice had been dying to come to this nightclub for the last three months since she first heard of it from some of her co-workers. Apparently, it was like the hottest thing ever and like all the celebrities were like always there and stuff. It was like totally wicked. Like totally. OMG!

Pffft!!!

I've known Alice for so long, she knew me inside and out, especially the fact that I hated to dance, and still insisted on going to this wretched place. Ugh! I love Alice with all my heart, but I'm seriously debating on disowning her as a friend.

No. Not really. I can't live without her. She's my life. She's my best friend. My sister from another mister. My girl, like the kids from school say.

Alice and I have been best friends since junior year in high school. Being the new kid in school in a small town like Forks was like the President of the United States coming over to visit. Everyone seemed to know that I'd arrived (I think my dad, Charlie held a community meeting to announce my impending arrival -as police chief, I think he might've pulled that off) thus making me the center of attention.

I hate being the center of attention as much as I hate dancing.

My clumsiness had immediately revealed itself to everyone: girls snickered at me, boys threw themselves to help me, and then the girls scowled at me for getting the boys' attention. Wonderful. So much for trying to make friends.

But then I met Alice. She'd been my lab partner in biology class and seemed genuinely interested in befriending me, no questions asked. Alice is this short little thing, with short black spikey hair, big brown eyes, a beautiful pixie-like face and a tight body to boot. I'd been a little nervous at first that Alice might need some ritalin because she seemed to be bouncing of the walls, but soon found out that was part of her charm. I grew so fond of her, we immediately became best friends. We attended the same college, and have been roommates ever since.

About six months ago we moved down to Florida to be closer to my mother. Also, to get away from a certain person I don't care to mention right now for fear that it would ruin my day.

When I moved to Forks from Phoenix at the age of seventeen to live with my dad, my mom had made her way down to Jacksonville, with her new husband Phil. He had received an offer to coach a minor league baseball team and Renee was totally psyched to live close to the ocean. I couldn't blame her.

I love my father dearly but it seemed like right now was the moment in my life in which I needed to get away from the constant rain and cold weather that was ever-present at Forks. After many debates over where to move to, Alice and I decided to move to the Miami area. Well, it was more out of Alice's continuous persuasion that we move here. Also, as much as I love my dear mother, I don't want to live so close that she'd want to come visit me everyday. We're close enough that we're in the same state, but not close enough for unscheduled visits.

But as much as Forks was a bit tame and wet for me, Miami is the complete opposite. It is hot and humid all the time and traffic over here is horrendous. Just getting on I-95 is pure hell on Earth. Having to get stuck in the middle of bumper-to-bumper traffic for about two hours trying to get to work -because of some idiot with a driver's license didn't know how to drive had gotten himself into an accident- was not my idea of fun. Charlie would have a heart attack if he had to work in a place like this.

Lately all I've been having are complaints about this place. It seems like everything was rushed and overwhelming. I wasn't used to this. I wasn't used to the traffic, the rude people, the high-rent, the constant noise from the neighbors. I don't usually complain about much but this place was really getting on my nerves. As much as I love Alice, I've been secretly debating moving back home to Forks. Or at least to Jacksonville and endure Renee's unplanned visits.

The move to Miami was more for Alice's benefit. Her fiancé and my best guy-friend, Jasper is a history teacher at the local middle school and is considered by the student body as one of the coolest teachers there. It made sense to move closer to one you love, especially if you're getting married soon and the wedding was to take place here. I also work at the same school with Jasper as a Language Arts teacher. This was my first year teaching and it had come with its challenges.

But right now, it was the weekend and I didn't want to think about work, traffic, or anything else that would bring me down. My idea of the perfect weekend is to have all my school work done, have the apartment cleaned up by a decent time, and relaxing by the pool for the rest of time. But nope, it couldn't be that easy. After months of begging and groveling from Alice to go to this stupid club, I'd finally relented with a promise to never ask me to come here again.

We'd finally made it to Miami's hot nightclub, Cameo, and I groaned at the length of the line that stretched out half a block. Alice had insisted on making me wear these deathtraps I'd like to call hooker heels. Grudgingly and silently I had to admit they looked mighty sexy on my feet. Yes, the heels were extremely high, but the straps around my ankles help me feel more secure. And the dress...as much as I hate to admit, Alice is a genius when it comes to picking out my outfits. I feel most comfortable wearing t-shirts and jeans, which in Alice's eyes is a big no-no. But finally seeing myself with this dress on made my confidence grow tenfold. My little black dress ran down to just above my knees, showing off my legs and hooker heels with sensuality. My long mahogany hair hung loosely down my back with soft curls. The spaghetti straps wrapped closely to my neck down my back, clinging to the lower part of my dress behind me. The dress was not too tight so it was comfortable, but close enough to accentuate my curves and wrapped sweetly around my bubble butt.

Alice wore an extremely bright yellow dress that matched her bright yellow porsche, perfect for the Miami nightlife. The collar wrapped around her neck held her top closely onto her frame, and ended with a frilly skirt at the bottom that was so short, if she bent over, she'd let everyone know what color her thong was. Hot pink. Trust me. She already flashed me twice today. Ugh.

Jasper wore a simple buttoned-down white shirt with a skinny black tie loosely wrapped around under his collar, his top button undone. His sleeves were rolled up to show off his arm muscles and his black jeans wrapped close to his long legs, again making him look like a runway model.

I'm in trouble. Those two looked so sexy together that I was sure to hear about their 'sexiness' all night long again. I guess that's the price you pay for living with roommates who slept together.

But having to stand in this immensely long line was not going to make this experience any easier. Alice said we were meeting her co-worker here who promised to get us in without having to wait in line. Soon appeared a very hot Spanish couple which made me feel a little less confident. The woman was tall, with a natural tan, dark brown hair and an amazingly sexy smile. She wore a lovely magenta dress that was so tight, I could almost tell she wasn't wearing anything underneath. The gentleman was a bit taller, darker skinned but very attractive, tall and muscular. He wore a black buttoned-down shirt, a black tie, and black pants, looking like he was ready to hit the dance floor. They'd introduced themselves as Carmen and Eleazar and I quickly found them to be very warm and friendly people. I could tell already that we'd be good friends.

But that still didn't make me feel any better. I was still the fifth wheel in this group. I hate being the odd one out. But they'd promised to look after me and help me feel comfortable within the group. Well, I guess, we'll see.

Keeping the promise that we didn't have to wait in line after all, we quickly made our way into the club. We were suddenly assaulted with loud music and a sea of people all moving to the beat of the song currently playing. Love, Sex, Magic by Ciara and Justin Timberlake was playing in the background, the beats were pumping hard all around us, subconsciously making me move to the rhythm of the music. Immediately Alice and Carmen pulled me onto the dance floor were there was hardly any space to breathe. But it didn't matter because this was the type of music you dance tightly to. I was sandwiched with Alice in front of me and Carmen behind me and immediately forgot the fact that I hate to dance. This was so much fun that I was mentally kicking myself for having denied Alice this whole time. While the three of us dance closely against each other, Carmen with her arms wrapped around me and Alice's back against me, swaying to the music, I saw Eleazar join Carmen from behind and Jasper dancing in front of Alice close enough for me to grab him. We were having a five-way and I was having the time of my life. As the dance continued, our bodies became hotter and sweatier, but I was having too much fun to complain. We finally extracted ourselves off the dance floor to find seats, which would've been almost impossible for us to find if Eleazar hadn't had one already reserved for us. This man was a genius in my book.

As we all took our seats, ordered our drinks (Alice being the DD for the night ordered water), and looked around the club to look at all the lights and sparkles that surrounded us, I couldn't help the feeling that I was being watched. Searching for whoever might be looking at me had been futile because there were so many people all around. Alice didn't want to waste time sitting down and pulled Jasper towards the dance floor again, with Carmen and Eleazar following behind. Yep, there goes not feeling like the fifth wheel. But amazingly, I was not disappointed as I kept watching the scene before me. Bodies pulsed against each other while the music blared out of the speakers. But again, I had that feeling someone was watching me.

Looking all around me I finally saw a man staring intently in my direction. I had to blink twice to make sure I wasn't seeing things. I'd only had a couple of sips of my drink, it couldn't have already affected my vision that badly, now would it? Because standing about twenty feet away from me was the most gorgeous man alive. Sorry George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Hugh Jackman, and Denzel Washington. The most beautiful man alive was staring intently at me and it took everything to remind me that I needed to breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

He was tall, muscular yet had a slender build. It was dark in this place, but I think the color of his hair might be a reddish brown. He wore a blue buttoned-down shirt that accentuated his build, top button undone, sleeves rolled up to show off his amazing arms. OMG!, his hands look amazing. Just the way I like a man's hands to be. Long, strong, but still smooth enough to touch my skin with tenderness. Whew! I don't what's come over me but my skin is warming up all around me and not because I had just come off the dance floor. I had a strange pull to this man and he hadn't even made a move to come closer to me.

Just as I shook extremely dirty thoughts of him moving against me because Yeah right! Like he'd give me the time of day. He suddenly appeared at my side and stretched out his amazing hand out to me. I think he was offering me to dance with him. I hadn't said a word and neither did he. All I could do was stare into his beautiful face and hold myself from melting at his feet. I took his hand which felt freaking amazing, sending a jolt into my body the second we made contact. He helped me out of my seat and led me towards the dance floor, neither of us breaking eye contact.

Closer by Ne-Yo played in the background as he took my arms gently and draped them around his neck. I was a bit nervous about dancing with a complete stranger and I think he sensed it. Then I felt my heart break, as a beautifully crooked smile graced his face, making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, though his eyes smoldered all the same. I noticed for the first time the color of his eyes. They were emerald green and the warm and fuzzy feeling I'd just felt inside turned to hot and wanting.

Breathe Bella.

Wanting nothing more than to get closer to this amazing man, like Ne-Yo's song had been suggesting, I tightened my arms around his neck, molded my body against his strong body. I felt myself wanting more and more, wanting to sink deeper into this man who had this pull over not only my body, but also my mind and heart. How is that possible? I don't understand how someone can have such a powerful effect on my mind, body, and soul in such a short amount of time, only to want more and more. But as he continued to be silent, I did the same.

We danced all night, almost forgetting that I'd arrived here with Alice and Jasper. We held each other tight, like we'd never want to let go. His hand roamed around my body in a way that was passionate but not indecent or disrespectful. His arms tightened around me, holding onto my hips, my back, my shoulders, my thighs. Sometimes turning me around to place my back against him, he'd wrapped his deliciously strong arms around my waist, holding himself tightly against me like he was afraid to let go. His head placed was on my shoulder, his hot breath hitting my skin, his lips tracing along my neck, sending tremors up and down my spine. It was the most amazing feeling. Something I'd not felt with anyone else in my life. I didn't want to let go of this dream. And it seemed, crazy enough to me, that he didn't want to let go either.

But eventually the night ended, and we'd had to go our separate ways. As the lights turned on, a sign for closing time, we looked into each other's eyes as we said goodbye through our gazing. He took my right hand and placed his tender lips to give it the sweetest kiss. And off he went.

I sighed. Too good to be true, Bella.

But every weekend since that first night, I'd secretly hinted to Alice that we should return to Cameo. I think Alice saw through me but I didn't care. Not if I got to see the most beautiful man in the world. Even if he didn't dance with me, at least I had to make sure that it wasn't a dream all along. And I was not disappointed. Every weekend he'd be there. Everytime we saw each other, he'd approach me and wordlessly offer to dance with me. I wordlessly and happily complied. We'd hold each other tightly and passionately like nothing and no one would break us. But unfortunately, every night had to end and we'd had to go our separate ways again.

I have to know who he is. I have to find out more. Make him speak. I was going to go crazy if I didn't.

I need to know who I'm falling in love with.