Isabelle plowed through the mess and snatched a cloth tape measure off a table, then went to the desk and picked up a pencil and a pad of paper. “Okay, I’ll warn you now. This is going to be awkward. I’ll try not to manhandle you, but this is gonna feel a lot like an airport pat down, so be prepared.”

“I’ve never been on an airplane.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t comment. “Well, just be prepared.” She poked him between his shoulder blades. “I need you to stand straight. You’re taller than most dancers, so we need to be accurate about the length… Of…the costume pieces…”

He stifled another laugh. The girl really needed to think before she spoke. It was almost like she was nervous, but there was nothing for her to be anxious about.

She put her hand on his left shoulder and held the tape while stretching it over to his other side. Her fingers were warm against him. A shiver slid up his neck. He wasn’t used to being touched. Knocked down and stepped on, yes. But skin to skin contact, no.

Something scratched his neck. “Ouch.”

“Sorry. I needed a solid surface to write the measurement. This is quicker than going to the desk.”

“It’s nice to be useful.”

Next, she measured from his shoulder to his waist, and again pressed the pad of paper against his back. “Put your arms out straight, please.”

The tape tickled, but he held still, afraid of the consequences if he fidgeted.Once that was done, she moved in front of him to measure his neck. Though she was tall for a girl, the top of her head barely reached his chin. Her fingers skimmed across his neck and his stomach tightened. Hopefully she was almost done. His was not a touchy-feely sort of family, so the only kind of contact he usually had with other people was either during school dances or on the football field, and neither of those had ever made him crave more.

“All right, here comes the awkward part.”

“That wasn’t it?” He closed his eyes and held his breath.

“I’m afraid not.”

She knelt next to him and measured from the top of his hip to his shoe. That wasn’t so bad.

Beads of sweat had formed on her forehead. “Um, I need to measure the inseam now.”

He shook his head. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. She was not going anywhere near…there.

“Let me hold the top of the tape measure.” Without waiting for her response, he took it out of her hand and held it against the inside of his thigh and dropped the rest so she could pick up the slack down by his ankle and record the measurement. Except it wasn’t flat against his leg.

Isabelle sucked in a deep breath and ran her fingers over the tape, igniting every bit of skin from the inside of his thigh down to his ankle.

“All done.”

He unclenched everything and let go of the tape, attempting to collect what was left of his mojo.