Chapter 55 Her Boyfriend
HER BOYFRIEND
brIAR
Now
It took some convincing, but Koen finally allowed me to go to the Conservatory so long as I promised him I would not dance. I thought it would be harder to get him to agree, but it was as if he couldn’t wait to be rid of me.
He was quiet this morning, distant and hard to read. Like his mind was elsewhere.
He vanished last night. I came back to the table to find him… gone. Liam said there was something that needed his attention, but I saw the look he gave Aidan when they thought I wasn’t looking.
I spent the night in his bed. While I strongly considered camping out on the couch, the room was open to everyone else who lived there, and the privacy of Koen’s room felt just a little bit safer.
I don’t know where he slept. He reappeared early this morning, cooking up a couple of omelettes in silence.
Besides the little battle over the Conservatory, he’d hardly said two words to me.
Leaving me to be Mac’s problem for the day, he stalked out of the loft.
But not before informing me that my heat would be fixed by the time I got home this afternoon.
Whatever warmth had been there yesterday was long gone. That usual cold control was back, and I could feel the wall rising back up between us.
My ankle does feel a lot better today. I’m able to bear weight, and the swelling has gone down significantly. Though, Koen is right, I should probably take another day or two off from dancing, so as to not prolong the healing process.
But this morning was one of the few classes Melanie wasn’t able to find coverage for.
It’s a winter break intensive for the girls in the intermediate program who are still in high school.
They’re one of my favorite ages to work with.
Just serious enough about their craft that I don’t have to redirect their attention every five minutes, and in some of them, you can already see it in their eyes how much they really want this, how far they’re willing to go.
They remind me of myself.
Like me, the group is prepping for the winter showcase, and their routine is looking really, really good.
I’m sitting with my foot propped up on a chair, a full bag of ice wrapped around it, while calling out counts loud enough to be heard over the music. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Good, Vanessa!”
By the end of the fifth run-through I find no reason to push them further, ending the class on a good note a few minutes early.
“They’re really coming along, Briar!”
I look up to see Mia step into the studio. “I came in to get a few hours of practice in, and I was just heading out, but I caught the last run. They look great.” She smiles at me, and I return it. Her frown comes next when her eyes drop to the bag of ice on my ankle.
“What happened?”
I quickly snatch the bag off my ankle and stand. “Ah, just a little sore from yesterday. I may have gone a little overboard trying to get that combination in the second half.”
“That combination is tricky, and from where I was standing, it looked perfect. Mr. Carr was just being an ass.” She gives me a look. “As per usual.”
I give her a shrug because she’s just being nice. “It could have been tighter. A few more hours in the studio, and I’ll get it right.”
“It’s crunch time.” Mia nods with a knowing look in her eye. “We’re all feeling it.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So I was just about to go grab a coffee over at that place on Newbury Street. Do you want to come with?” She gives me an appraising look. “That is—if you can walk?” She eyes my ankle.
“I can walk,” I rush out, a tad defensively, and Mia raises her brows.
“But I… I don’t know if I should,” I mutter, forcing a smile. I’m not supposed to leave the studio. I’m pretty sure Mac’s outside keeping an eye out—or maybe someone else, I’m not sure. I haven’t checked because, ignorance is bliss and all that.
But after nearly a week of constant surveillance, it’s really tempting to sneak out for an hour on my own. It’s just coffee, two blocks over.
And it might be my pent-up frustration at not being able to dance, or how Koen made me stay at his place last night and then disappeared, but I’m tired of being told what to do, where to be, and how to act.
He’s not supposed to be back for two more hours.
He’s picking me up to go to another club with him.
My anxiety over that is probably what pushes me over the edge.
“You know what?” I grin, “Yes. I need a little afternoon pick-me-up. Let me just grab my stuff.”
Mia smiles and starts for the door, and I follow.
“Uhm, let’s go out the back door,” I say as we near the stairs.
Mia arches a brow of curiosity at me but I don’t explain, just turn, trotting down the stairs, then turning away from the front entrance and hoping she’ll follow. Lucky for me, she does, and even luckier, she doesn’t ask any questions.
It’s a quick walk from the Conservatory to Central Perk Coffee, but the cold bites straight through my sweatshirt. I didn’t pack a jacket, and I’m regretting that decision now. A cold front has moved in to the city and shows no sign of moving out.
The wind is the worst part. If it wasn’t for the wind, it might be a nice day. It whips off the river, burning my cheeks until I’m sure they’re a bright pink. I shove my hands into the pocket of my hoodie and pick up the pace, my fingertips already numb.
Still, I’ve got a big grin on my face. The little thrill I get from defying Koen’s “rules” wakes me up far more than the cold or the coffee could.
The shop is busy, but we find a spot near the back and take a seat. I listen to Mia tell me all about how her routine is going. She’s dancing a pas de deux with Devin. I’ve seen their routine, and I’ve never seen two people more in sync with each other. Their chemistry is really something else.
“So speaking of Devin,” I smile mischievously when I see her blush. “Is there anything going on between the two of you?” I ask, because the smile on Mia’s face every time she mentions Devin’s name makes it glaringly obvious.
She does, in fact, flush crimson. “No. Of course not! What on earth would give you that idea?” Her words are too rushed to be true.
“No reason.” I smirk, taking a convenient sip of my coffee and watching her grow increasingly flustered, nearly spilling hers. I love how normal this feels. I think I needed this more than I realized.
The low rumble of a motorcycle engine echoes in the distance.
My heart stutters.
That sound. My face whips toward the shop windows, but I don’t spot the bike I could have sworn I heard.
He wouldn’t, he couldn’t—
After a few seconds, when no bike, or biker, appears, I blow out a breath and turn back to Mia, who thankfully hasn’t noticed my mini heart attack, too busy trying to convince both me, and herself, that she and Devin aren’t meant to be together.
The coffee shop door chimes and my head whips up again. Everything around me fades away when I catch sight of the hulking menace standing in the doorway.
Koen’s eyes are a storm of fury, and he finds me almost instantly. His jaw ticks when those dark eyes make contact with mine.
“Shit,” I whisper to myself.
He crosses the space in long, deliberate strides, and it’s an effort not to shrink back into my seat, or worse—hide under the table, because the thought has occurred to me.
How did he find me here?
When he reaches us, I stare down at my coffee, ignoring the glare he levels down at me, his arms crossed, his face as hard as stone.
He’s dressed in full leather gear from being on his bike, a cowl bunched around his neck that he probably had pulled up over his face under his helmet. He’s really riding in this weather?
“Uhm, Briar?” Mia hisses in my direction, looking nervously between an irate Koen and me. “Do you know this guy?” Her finger points timidly upward.
I open my mouth to answer, still avoiding Koen’s eye, but he beats me to it.
“I’m her boyfriend.”
Mia’s eyes narrow. Boyfriend? she mouths. I catch it out of the corner of my eye, because, after he spoke, my gaze whipped up and I’m now staring wide-eyed up at Koen.
Boyfriend?
“Time to go.”
“I was just—”
“Now.” His tone is clipped and stern and leaves no room for argument.
“Briar?” Mia’s question is laced with concern.
“It’s fine,” I lie quickly, forcing a smile before my eyes dart back to Koen. “I forgot we have that—err—thing—” Trying to explain his stern demeanor and clear lack of manners.
One of Koen’s eyes twitches, but he says nothing, pulling out my chair for me.
“I’ll text you later.” Quickly, I gather up my things.
I follow Koen through the shop. He holds the door open for me, and when I walk past him, his hand finds the small of my back—firm, possessive—a silent warning.
I swallow hard, the cool air from the street biting against my skin.
“I thought I told you to stay put. You weren’t supposed to leave the studio,” he growls into my ear, as he guides me with a light grip on my upper arm to where he parked his bike, just a few steps down from the shop.
I knew I’d heard it.
“How the hell did you find me anyway?” I ask, looking around for Mac or the SUV but not finding it, thinking maybe he followed me from the studio, though I kept checking over my shoulder to be sure. I’m almost certain no one saw me leave the studio, yet here stands Koen. A very, very angry Koen.
“You’re not as clever as you think you are,” he says, handing me an extra helmet.
I grimace. If I thought walking was cold…
“You need to follow the rules. It’s not safe on the streets for you. Last I checked, Giovanni is still in business, and they’re pretty eager to replenish their inventory.”
My shoulders tighten at the mention of Giovanni. I’m all too aware of how “in business” he is, seeing as he won’t stop blowing up my phone.
“Your girlfriend, huh?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Made sense at the time,” he mutters.
“Just like old times,” I smile, attempting to lighten the mood, but his eyes just narrow as he loses more patience with me.
“Get on the bike, Briar. I’ll drop you back at the studio before having a few words with Mac.”
I frown. I didn’t want to get Mac into trouble. My brow creases; I’m worried what Koen might do to Mac.
“It’s not his fault. I snuck out the back, and he never saw me. I made sure he didn’t see me,” I rush out in Mac’s defense.
Koen turns slowly to face me.
“You’re—You’re not going to hurt him or anything, are you?” I ask, chewing nervously on my lip, helmet still in my hands.
Koen curses under his breath and looks to the sky. “No little Rose, I’m not going to hurt him.”
My shoulders fall forward as I deflate.
“Now, will you get on the damn bike?”
R.I.P to my fingertips. But just as soon as I lift the helmet to my head, my phone rings and we both freeze. I hurriedly pull it out to silence it, aware of Koen’s heavy gaze on me. I almost drop the stupid phone in my haste.
“You need to get that?” he asks after a long drawn out pause, his words feeling razor sharp.
“No. It’s just my roommate.”
“Your roommate calls you a lot.”
I give him a look. “You’re very observant.”
His jaw tightens. “I am about things that matter.”
“And how often my roommate calls me matters?” I smirk, trying to deflect the tension. I don’t need him questioning how often Lily calls me.
He doesn’t answer. His gaze pinning me before he says, “Don’t test me.”
Done with the conversation, he turns around, swinging a leg over the bike and starting it up.
I sigh, slipping the helmet over my head, and getting on the damn bike without further argument.