Chapter 27 Floating
Everett
When I arrive at the dance studio, the vision of Claire dancing around the well-lit space stops me in my tracks.
Beautiful isn’t a good enough word to describe her.
She’s in light-pink tights. A matching leotard fits her snuggly, and a sheer skirt flairs around her hips.
The ribbons of her pointe shoes wrap around her ankles and draw me in. Her movements are effortless.
She looks happy. She looks at peace.
Every spin and leap make it clear that she’s a talented dancer, and I wonder why it’s taken me this long to really watch her dance.
Four years ago, the thought never crossed my mind, but then again, neither of us was really interested in what the other was doing.
She’s completely enchanting, and at this moment I want nothing more than those crystals to work, so she can continue to live out this dream.
She stops dancing and turns to walk toward a bulky stereo situated near the window. Our eyes lock, causing her to freeze on the other side of the glass. Lifting her hand, she offers me a small wave, and I lift a paper bag full of to-go containers.
She glides toward the door and swings it open.
“You out here in the cold watching me?”
“Hard to take my eyes off of you when you look like that,” I tease.
“Come on,” she says, gesturing for me to come in. “If you stand out there much longer, our food will be cold.”
“You ready to head out?” I ask.
“Let me just grab my coat and boots,” she says, moving out of the way and letting me pass. She crosses the floor. Undoing the ribbons of her shoes, she removes them, pausing to massage the arches of her feet. She stands, sliding her feet into her fur lined boots, and then pulls on her coat.
“What time is it?”
“Almost seven. The food took longer than I expected.”
“Goodness, I was here all day. Thanks for letting me dance,” she says, meeting me near the door. “Helped keep me sane.”
She turns off the lights and closes the door behind us. Locking it, she drops the key into her coat pocket.
“How do you do that?” I ask.
“Do what?”
“Move like you were. I knew you were flexible…” I smirk. “But you’re incredible. It looked like you were floating.”
“Floating?”
I nod. “I don’t know, I’ve just never seen anyone look so beautiful as they move. I was trying to think of a word to describe it, and I guess my vocabulary isn’t big enough because nothing seemed adequate. You’re stunning, Sugar.”
Her eyes find me, and they sparkle in the moon light and she lets out a nervous giggle.
“What?”
“Sometimes I feel like I know you, and then you go and say things like that and you take me completely by surprise.”
“I’m just stating the truth.”
“What did you do today while I was at the studio?”
“Not much. I went for a run and then headed to the rink for a bit. Explored the town a little and ended up running into Chip. He’s actually a really cool guy.”
“What did you two talk about?”
“He vented a lot about Lolly and her shop and having to co-chair the decoration committee with her.”
“Oh yeah? You think Ginger was right and they’re going to fall for Stella’s scheme.”
“Ha! Actually, maybe. He really was trying to act like he didn’t like her, but I think she might be on to something. I could see it happening.”
“Really?”
I nod. “Have you texted those girls back?”
“No. Why?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I’d be interested to know what Lolly thinks about him. I’m a little invested now.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am,” I jest. “They remind me a little of us, and I’m dying to know if that’s going to work out too.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
Silence falls between us for the next ten yards or so.
“Have you thought about this hockey practice you’re supposed to coach on Monday?” she asks as we walk off the main street to our small neighborhood.
“Not really. We shouldn’t be here for it, right?”
“Yeah, no. You’re right.” She looks over at me, pressing her lips together.
“Were you thinking about teaching dance?”
“Yeah, while I was at the studio, I was imagining what it might be like. There are all these pictures on the wall with me and kids. I look really happy in them. I never considered teaching dance, but I don’t know…
something about being there the other day and today has me wondering what it would be like. ”
“For what it’s worth, I’d think you’d make a great dance teacher.”
“You don’t have to be this nice to me,” she muses.
“It’s true.”
“Do you ever think about what you’ll do when hockey is over?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. It’s weird. When I was in New York, I was doing everything in my power to avoid any talks about the future, but since we’ve been here, it’s all I can think about.”
“What do you mean?”
“What life might be like once I retire.”
“Is that going to happen? You said your shoulder is feeling better, and you just got back to the Crowns. You really think you’d hang up your skates?”
“I don’t know. I think I’m realizing that there are things that could fulfill my life other than hockey.”
“Like what?”
You.
“Building a life with someone.”
“That does sound nice doesn’t it?” Her eyes find mine, and for a split second, it seems like she knows what I’m insinuating. “Do you think you’d try to coach or commentate or something like that? I can’t imagine you leaving hockey entirely.”
“Maybe. So, do you think you would teach dance once you’re done?”
“I have a lot more goals that I’d like to reach before that day comes, and it would be a huge learning curve.
I haven’t taught dance since I was in high school, but I think it could be really fulfilling to help kids reach their dreams. I mean, I’ve wanted to dance as the Sugar Plum Fairy since I was five… ”
Her voice trails off, and she looks down at her feet.
“You’re going to get to do that,” I assure her, squeezing her hand. “All we have to do is make the rocks do their magic, and we’ll wake up back in New York tomorrow.”
“I hope you’re right.”
We climb the stairs of the house, and I unlock the front door. Pushing it open, she walks inside. Setting the food down, we both remove our winter layers.
“What do you think about turning on the fireplace and us eating in the living room?”
“I like that idea,” she replies, a smile lighting her face.
She grabs the bag of food, and I work to start a fire. When I’m done, I turn to find her setting up the to-go containers on the coffee table.
“Want some wine?”
“Yes, please.”
I walk into the kitchen, grab a bottle of pinot noir from above the fridge, and open it.
“Heavy pour or light pour?” I call.
“Always a heavy pour,” she calls back.
I fill the glasses, then walk back to join her.
“Did you notice we don’t have a Christmas tree?” she asks as I sit down next to her and hand her wine.
“No.” I chuckle. “It does seem weird that Stella left out that little detail.”
“Very,” she muses, taking a sip. “My Christmas tree has been up since November first.”
“Of course it has,” I say over my glass.
“Don’t tell me,” she says. “You don’t have one.”
“I don’t.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically. “That’s insane.”
“I told you I’m rarely home this time of year, and when I am, I’m usually resting and trying to recuperate before my next game.”
“Excuses, excuses” she tsks. “Goodness, do I need to come over to your apartment when we get back to New York and help you set one up?”
“You can come over to my apartment whenever you want. You don’t need an excuse.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“No?” I tease. “Sounded like you were trying to come up with a reason to spend time with me.”
“Can I confess something?” she asks, giggling.
“Please,” I say, a little too eager.
“Contrary to popular belief, I do like spending time with you,” she whispers.
“You do?”
I try to mask my excitement, but it’s no use. I like the sound of what she just said too much.
“I know. I was surprised to figure it out too.”
Scooting closer to her, my eyes find hers, and my hand connects with the soft skin of her cheek.
“I like spending time with you too, Sugar. I like it a lot.”
A soft smile breaks across her face, and she leans forward, closing the gap between us. Her mouth parts slightly, and her tongue wets her lips. The energy around us shifts, and my heart rate beats wildly behind my ribs, anticipating my next move.
Our lips connect, and I push my hand through her hair, gripping the back of her head and pulling her into me. She tastes like the wine we’ve been drinking. The sweetest sound escapes from her throat as our tongues tangle and a wave of warmth covers my body.
Happiness overwhelms me, and I feel like I’m floating. For the first time since we’ve been here, I let myself believe there’s a chance she’s starting to fall for me too.