I was the daughter of a world renowned prima ballerina. Everything about me exuded prim and proper. At least that was the part of me everyone saw. Tyson Black was a struggling football player. Big and scary looking. Tattoos and muscles everywhere. Kind of annoying. He was also my newest ballet student. Neither one of us were thrilled about it, And it only took us one lesson to learn we didn’t see eye to eye. But after a series of break-ins in Atlanta, including one in my studio, I was on edge and my stoic demeanor started slipping. Everything seemed to be spiraling. Somehow, I managed to push through my fears and teach my classes. It helped that Ty and I had found a rhythm we could agree on. Eventually, I was able to see that we had a lot more in common than just the way we danced. And while that should have been what brought us together, it was actually what threatened to keep us apart.