Chapter 5
FIVE
KATHERINE
My ankle is burning after falling during my routine. The girls in the class rush to the small kitchen in the back to grab a bag of ice, which was the nicest thing.
“Are you going to be okay, Miss Kat?” one of the girls, Frances, asks.
I nod, wincing, when I try to readjust to a sitting position on the floor. They offer to stuff their winter coats behind my back on the wall, but I decline.
“I’ll be fine, promise. Just a sprain. I think I went a little too hard on that last turn.”
There are five girls in this class who primarily take ballet. I do some dance choreography classes as well, but that’s not my personal favorite. I try to help the girls around town as much as I can with whatever dance passion they may have. But I favor—as much as I hate to admit it—the ballet girls the most.
They all look at me with big puppy eyes as if I just broke my ankle. It’s just a simple sprain that I need to ice and rest, and then I’ll be good to go. This happens way more often now that I’m older.
“Don’t take your age for granted, girls,” I joke as I nod for them to get up from the ground. They start to circle around me like vultures. I need them to still get their routine down for the Christmas dance recital next Friday night.
Jordan, one of the younger girls, has been forgetting a lot of the footwork that I wanted her to practice more of today. She stands up and goes to her place, ready to continue. I can’t help but give her a proud smile as the other girls nod and get up as well, following her lead.
“Alright, girls,” I shout from the floor, “from the top… Five, six, seven, eight.”
They start their routine once more and it’s almost flawless, until Jordan mixes up one of the spins and falls down. The other girls run to her to help her up.
“Thanks,” she says quietly, looking at me for a moment. It’s the look of oh, shit I messed up please don’t yell at me.
“All good,” I reassure them all, making sure I make eye contact with Jordan for a second longer. I clap my hands before pressing the ice pack to my ankle. “One more time, and then we can take a longer break.”
They all nod and start the routine once more. This time they’re having more fun with it, there are more smiles all around. This is why I love to teach—the passion that you can see in their bodies and faces when they’re in the middle of the routine.
It reminds me of when I was younger and just starting out in ballet. I had so much fun, even when I tripped or fell during practice.
Thirty minutes later, the girls are all gone and I’m cleaning up the studio when the door chimes. I turn to see my sister walking in with a red scarf around her neck and a big puffy white sweater.
“Is it that cold out already?” I ask, putting my cleaning supplies away and heading to her. She’s all smiles as we side hug.
“Kinda, honestly. I think we’re going to have a harsh winter this year.”
I raise a brow. “That’s unusual for Tennessee, especially here.”
“I know. Maybe we’ll finally have a white Christmas. Anyway, I’m here because we need to go out. I had the worst shift. Horrible tips. I need a drink far away from here.”
Izzy is pouting and giving me a look just like my girls did earlier today. Except this time, I can’t say no to my baby sister. “Sure, where do you wanna go?”
Her eyes brighten for a moment before she wiggles her brows. “What about The Lost Cowboy ?”
I roll my eyes. “Seriously? I was just there last night. A little too late, I might add.” I didn't tell her that I already promised Lainey I’d be there tonight, but that would cause a series of questions that I wasn’t ready for.
“What for? Lainey wasn’t singing.”
“No reason,” I tell her, and it isn’t a lie. I just randomly showed up there, needing to get out of Alpine without leaving the town line. I would’ve gone to Mason Pointe, but I chose not to.
It was nice talking to Lainey, and the thought of her asking if we could be friends one day comes to the forefront of my mind.
I do want that, but I’m scared. And that’s the most honest I’ve been with myself lately. Admitting fear isn’t something I really like to do–I sidestep until I’m forced to confess. My marriage with Bennett was a perfect example of that–I danced around big decisions and my feelings until he had to make a decision for us that I was too scared to make first.
Maybe I need to stop doing that and just admit my fears and face them head on.
“Well, if you want to grab a drink with me and support Lainey from the front row, come. We can even play darts or billiards.”
“You sure you don’t want to go shopping or hiking?” I ask, offering other places that aren’t another dive bar that she just ended her shift at. Nicky’s is more for us locals, though, so I get her wanting a change in scenery—even if it’s a similar environment.
She deadpans before laughing. “Since when do we hike?”
I smile. “I know, it was worth a try. We can go, but you’re driving. Or paying for Uber.”
She nods. “Deal. Are you heading home now? I can come with. Think I got a few outfits still in your guest closet.”
“You mean your room?” I laugh. Izzy spends half her time at my place or her girlfriends. I’m still not sure why she even has a townhome when she is clearly never there.
“ Guest room,” she reiterates. “You done here?”
I grab the keys to close up and nod. “Yep, all done. Did you drive to work today or do you need a ride to my place?”
“Haley dropped me off,” she says as we start to walk out of the studio and I lock up. Today I don’t have night classes, which I’m thankful for.
“Perfect. You’re paying for dinner, I haven’t eaten much today,” I tell her as we head to my car. She skips a little as we walk and it’s cute. She does it when she’s happy.
“Deal!” she sing-songs.
The Lost Cowboy is busy tonight.
Izzy grabs my elbow and pulls me toward the bar, having to squeeze in between many bodies. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this busy, but I also haven’t really been a regular here until now.
That’s embarrassing, I think to myself. Becoming a regular at a dive bar . God, I should really start therapy soon instead of finding solace in a place like here.
“Lainey is getting ready, look!” Izzy says, pointing to the stage. I turn to look at her as she’s plugging in her guitar and fluffing up her big, blonde hair. If I could explain her stage presence, it would be Dolly Parton mixed with Taylor Swift. Her confidence is off the charts—I can feel it from here and she hasn’t even started her set.
“Let’s get some drinks, and then we can head to the front of the stage,” I suggest. Izzy nods before we finally reach the counter and orders a round of tequila shots to get started as well as some cranberry vodkas to hold us down while we’re up near the stage. She hands her card to the bartender as they get pushed in front of us.
There’s a chuckle beside me, and I can somehow sense exactly who it might be. I turn and see none other than Lance fucking King. Izzy is too busy signing her receipt when I give him a look.
“No mistletoe around us, so don’t even think about it,” I say loudly. His eyes sparkle and a smirk surfaces.
“Wasn’t even thinking that,” he says, leaning in closer to my ear. It gives me chills and I swear there are goosebumps rising all over my body. And there’s something in my stomach. Butterflies?
What the hell is happening to me?
I grab my tequila shot and turn to look at Izzy before nodding. She squeals as we clink shot glasses. We take the shot and then bite into the limes that the bartender offered us. Lance watches the whole thing with the biggest grin. If I could read his mind, I’d think he’d be saying something smart, or honestly something about being proud of us. And the latter makes more butterflies swarm my stomach.
“God, that was awful.” Izzy gags for a moment before slamming her shot glass down. The bartender comes back with our mixed drinks in cheap plastic cups. We thank him before I turn to Lance once more.
“You’re stalking me, Cowboy.”
With a beer in his hand, he points toward his chest. “Me? As much as it pains me to admit, I’ve become a regular here. I haven’t seen you here until last night.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Fine, you’re not a stalker. Are you here with some boys or alone?” I don’t mean my last few words to come out with a tone, but they do. I bite my lip, and he looks at me for a moment before smirking again.
“Not alone, I’m here for someone.”
“Yeah? Who’s the lucky girl?” He looks past me and nods. I follow his gaze to the stage and then whip my head around to give him a stunned look. “Huh?”
“Lainey,” he states plainly.
I’m not sure what the hell is happening, but there’s a twinge of…jealousy that’s coursing through me with the way he says her name. He’s not even saying it in an endearing or we’re dating way. Because first of all, if they are dating, I’ll knock him in the jaw right now for kissing me in front of her last night.
“Really?” I manage to squeak out.
His bright blue eyes watch me for a second before another damn smirk fills his face. I’m about to fucking slap it off him if he continues.
“Yes, really. She’s become one of my many good friends. Just wanna see her play tonight. Talent like this is rare and she deserves all eyes on her.”
“I heard,” I tell him with a bite to my words. His eyes narrow this time, and he’s either trying to think of something clever to say back or I’ve made Lance King speechless.
He takes a deep breath. “She’s just a friend.”
There’s a moment of silence between us two. I’ve completely forgotten about my sister for a moment, really sucked into this conversation with Lance. Is he trying to convince me that they’re amicable? I really shouldn’t care. I really shouldn’t.
“Okay,” is all I respond before taking a sip of my mixed drink. There’s a nudge at my back and I turn to see my sister finally getting my attention.
“She’s about to start, so either finish this convo with Lance and come up with me to the stage, or stay here!”
I think for a moment how much I want to stay with Lance, but I shouldn’t. I look back at him and his eyes are expectant. For what? I’m not sure. I give him a smile before nodding toward the stage.
“See you after her set?”
He lifts his beer and I push my plastic cup against it. “See you, Katherine.”
The name spills out of his lips like honey and it makes those damn butterflies perform like they’re in a circus.
Even when I move toward the stage with my sister, I still feel his gaze on me. I turn back a few times throughout the set and meet his eyes every time.
Fuck .