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Extending my hand to Sasha I said, "Dance with me, Sweetheart."I loved dancing. Sasha's mother had loved dancing. It was what had brought us together way back when. Sasha had learned to dance as a toddler by standing on my feet. She and I had danced often before she was a teenager but rarely since - real dance classes stealing her attention away.Sasha smiled and took my hand, letting me pull her up from the couch. Her amber eyes sparkled. I drew her into me, so slender, so sweet. One arm circled her waist. My other hand held her hand to my chest. She pressed herself against me, her cheek pressed to the front of my shoulder. We moved.In the flickering firelight I closed my eyes, inhaled my daughter's scent into my lungs, and relaxed completely.Dancing in the dark with Sasha was soothing and mesmerizing. Peacefulness permeated me and brought with it gentle arousal, soft desire, my adoration for her intensifying. Music ebbed and flowed, our movements keeping rhythm. Sasha felt far too. I remembered that Indiana State squeaked by DePaul in their semi-final game. I also figured I would ask Tony what odds I’d receive on picking Larry Bird as the most outstanding player in college that year, paired with Magic Johnson earning the MVP award of the Final Four.I then thought about picking tomorrow’s NHL games results, and immediately the final results of the eight games appeared on my computer screen. It probably wouldn’t be good for me to nail all eight results and I smiled when I thought, ‘You can’t pick those Damn-Canadiens to win‘. Les Habitant were my most hated team of all-time, so picking against them to smooth-over this wager felt right to me.I pulled out a small notepad from my coat pocket and wrote down the NHL winners, minus Montreal, and also my NCAA Final Four game picks. After my computer vanished I headed on back to the gym to find Tony.As I walked by my three friends, Jon asked, “Where’d ya go, Mike?”“Uh, to the restroom and then to check on a couple of.
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