Chapter 6
Drew
I straighten my left leg out in front of me before bending my body forward and grabbing my toes.
I stretch as much as I can, not needing to pull or strain any muscles or anything, because yeah, that would not do me any good right now.
I take deep breaths before swapping legs and do the exact same with my right leg.
I have four days until the show, and I can’t risk an injury, not now.
Not when some of the teens I teach will be a part of it and are counting on me, and especially when an anonymous donation of fifty thousand dollars was made last night.
I honestly thought it was a prank until my mom read through it and confirmed it was real.
Dad had a look on his face, one I couldn’t decipher, when he mentioned it was legit as well. To be fair, he’d been weird all throughout dinner and then again, after he returned before dessert at home when he disappeared from the restaurant, which is when I got the notification about the donation.
Mom and I accused him of trying to get out of dealing with Elizabeth and her antics with Drake, which finally got him to smile.
Not sure what got into him, but after that, he cheered up a little, though he did still look at me a few times, not as much as Drake, but still.
I shiver in disgust at the memory of my ex-boyfriend trying to corner me yesterday at Dante’s. Fear clashed with anger as he demanded we talk, despite my sister being there with his mark all over her neck.
“You ruined my life by dumping me, the least you could do is be fucking mine again!”
His words swirl in my head thinking of how he got in my space, forcing me against the wall, making me want to vomit. My anger rushes through me again at his gall and I grunt when I stretch too much causing a twinge in my hips.
Dammit.
I shoved Drake away and told him to go to hell. When he returned to the table, he began to make out with my sister like he didn’t just proposition me while side eyeing me like some kind of creep.
The guy had everything going for him, including a scholarship, but he ruined it all because of his ego.
Stupid jackass.
I shake my head as my phone rings, and I sigh, quickly crossing my legs and grabbing it before accepting the call without looking at the caller ID.
“Hello?” I answer like an idiot before my sister's voice echoes over the line, and I tense before silently cursing myself.
Check the caller ID always goddammit!
“I need money,” she says, then accuses, “and considering you propositioned my boyfriend last night, you’re going to give it to me!”
I wonder if Elizabeth just lives in Elizabeth's world?
I roll my eyes and retort, “Or, your boyfriend propositioned me because he hates the fact he ruined his own life. All because I dumped him at the age of fifteen and he slept with my underage sister as revenge, who seems to want everything that I have, despite having mom’s attention continuously over the years!
Go get a job like a normal person, Elizabeth and dump that ass before he completely brainwashes you with even more lies! ”
I hear several bangs and I roll my eyes because I just know she’s stomping her foot like a petulant child before she growls, “I’m pregnant, I can’t get a job, I’ve just found out, and Dad is refusing to help me. I can’t tell Mom because of her stupid church group!”
Okay then… Safe to say I didn’t see that one coming and shock prickles through me, quickly chased by disbelief.
She has to be lying right?
Do I laugh and piss her off? Or do I be the big sister she wants me to be and give in?
I kind of want to laugh, then shout karma bitch…
My phone beeps, and I quickly pull it away from my ear and see a message, and I roll my eyes yet again.
Mom:
Your sister isn’t pregnant, she wants money for a matching tattoo with Drake. If she rings, just hang up xx.
Damn, I was really hoping she’d be pregnant because at least then she might have grown up, even if Drake had been the father. With that said, my sister is extremely selfish.
I shake my head and put the phone back to my ear, and I state, “I’m not paying for your tattoo with my ex, Elizabeth. Grow up and get a job or go to college, do something with your life, and stop relying on others.”
She’s quiet for a moment before she screeches so loud I have to move the phone away from my ear before she shouts, “You’re just jealous he wants me and not you!” before she hangs up and I blink.
Okay…
“What a brat,” I mutter as I stand and place my phone in my bag before I turn on the music and get into position in the middle of the dance floor and face the mirror.
Today is my last practice on my own. Tomorrow, the teens and little kids will join me, and in half an hour, I have ten four-year-olds coming in for a class. I do not have time to focus on my sister, who seems to like entertaining me at the moment. I need to focus on the task at hand.
Taking a deep breath, I follow the music, trying to perfect my moves and ensure my feet are in the right position, especially when I’m off the ground. I need to show my students that hard work does pay off.
I get lost in my work, in my passion, and even as I hear the door open and close, the bell rings, I don’t stop. This is too important, though knowing my luck, it’ll be my sister who's just walked in.
The music picks up, and I follow it, pushing my arms forward while keeping a pained expression on my face before I quickly pull them back into my body.
I twist and go into an entrechat before landing in the perfect position.
Without missing a beat, I go into a spin, and my heart rate picks up, confusing me and I slow the spin feeling off kilter.
I end in my starting pose and breathe heavily as the music quiets before my stomach tightens, the presence behind me making me tense.
“Wow,” a deep voice rumbles through my studio, and my body tingles making me swallow my gasp.
I look into the mirror sharply and lock eyes with the darkest brown eyes I have ever seen and instantly, I’m entranced as I take the man in.
His black hair is short at the back and sides, while the top is in a man bun that suits him.
His shirt stretches across his muscular chest, showcasing his muscles that every woman would dream of running their fingers over.
His cut, that’s what my dad called it, hugs his broad shoulders.
He’s, yeah, he’s all man, but it’s his eyes that have me entranced. His eyes that I am currently getting lost in, the dark brown that are full of pain, pulling me in.
The man tilts his head, his brown eyes assessing me before he rasps, “You were born to dance,” and I swallow hard.
“Thanks, I think,” I mutter, not really knowing what to say or do.
I know who he is, Cage, the biker my dad told me to stay away from yesterday. The biker I wanted nothing more than to follow, which completely confused me.
He half smiles, causing his face to light up a little, and my heart does a little leap.
Uh oh.
Clearing my throat, I break eye contact and walk over to my bag and grab my water.
He has me completely jittery. I feel excited and nervous when he’s near, and I don’t know if he feels the same connection between us, but I know one thing, it scares me, especially when I don’t even know why he is here.
"You come to join the ballet?" I ask, not knowing what to say.
He snorts, “Little bird, I’d probably end up breaking your mirror,” and I look back at him again.
“Little bird?” I ask and he half smiles again.
Damn, I like that half smile.
“It suits you,” he whispers and I swallow again before he admits, “Your dad came to visit me.”
I look at him, shocked and, honestly, a little embarrassed, I mean, huh?
“My dad?” I confirm and he hums.
"I've known your dad since the day I was born," he says, "He was close to mine and would have become a brother had he not met your mom in college."
I blink. I never knew that…
“I don’t think I could picture my dad as a biker,” I mumble and he chuckles, the sound going straight through me.
"He’d make an amazing brother," he grunts then admits, "He thinks I should take you out on a date…"
I’m sorry, what?
I blink, then blink again, before I shake my head because no, there is no way my dad would, no…. That is just confusing, I’m confused. Yesterday, Dad told me to stay clear, and then what? He went to see the biker straight after we finished eating and told him to ask me out.
Because that isn’t embarrassing or anything.
Clearing my throat, a wave of unease hits me as I remember my dad’s weird behavior after he disappeared yesterday and I say, “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” my voice tight, before I walk over to my clipboard to get ready for my little ones to come.
“Why, because I’m a biker?” he asks.
He’s not angry, he’s almost in awe, which just confuses me even more.
I look at him as the door opens. “No. Let’s take my father out of the equation. Even if you had come here because you really wanted me, I still would have said no. I know you can break my heart, and that thought completely scares me.”
His whole body loosens up. “Ditto, baby,” he murmurs, “and I’m not here because of your dad, I would have found you before he knocked on my motel room door.”
Crap, there goes the flutter in my heart.
Some moms eye him up as their little ones run to the pegs and put their things away and I suck in a breath as he adds, “My name is Bellamy, by the way.”
Pretty sure Dad mentioned bikers don’t give out their legal names…
“Hi, Miss Drew!” Alexandria calls as she rushes in last getting my attention. I blink, then blink again, then give the little four-year-old a blinding smile.
I reply, “Hi, sweet girl,” just as she stumbles a little making me chuckle.
The girl is so adorably clumsy...
I side-eye Bellamy to check if he’s still standing there and my chest tightens when I notice he’s taken a seat.
“I want that date,” he says and I suck in a breath yet again. He just gets comfortable and leans back against the bench, ignoring the moms staring at him.
The man has just made my day because I want nothing more than to agree, especially when I have never had this kind of reaction to a man before. I just, my mind can’t seem to catch up.
How much would my dad kill me if I accepted the date? Though didn’t Bellamy say Dad told him to ask me out?
Wait, is this a pity invitation?
Crap…
“We’re ready, Miss Drew!” Annabel says loudly and I break eye contact with Bellamy and smile softly at the cutie. I notice my little ones lined up, all holding onto the wall pole.
"Okay, my munchkins," I call as I try not to notice Bellamy’s presence—which is no easy feat.
The man demands respect. His aura suffocates me, urging me to go to him but I ignore the feeling and the fear rushing through me along with the millions of questions running around my head and I instruct, "And plié. "
Maybe he’ll leave? And maybe then I can call my dad and give him an earful for making the man I felt an instant connection with to ask me out on a pity date.