Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Lucy
Go figure, after that disastrous date with my parents, I didn’t sleep very well.
Dad’s questions about my future spun and spun and spun until I was dizzy with it all.
I know this time with Nash is a stolen moment.
A pause in the chaos. Never meant to be permanent.
This is a bubble, about to pop, and this time with him will become a memory—perhaps one of the best of my life—but always meant to end.
As if that wasn’t heavy enough to carry around, I’m embarrassed that Nash saw a version of me I thought I’d outgrown. The one that turns into a golden retriever around my dad, eager for scraps of his approval, spinning everything that’s ever happened into a desperate plea for validation.
I hate it.
It’s gross.
But the worst part?
Dad asked the very questions I’ve been avoiding. When do I go back to Los Angeles? What is there to go back for? If I stay here, where would I stay? With Nash? Would he want that? How would I support myself? I have no marketable skills other than dancing…
I push into a sitting position with a groan, head pounding as the mattress shifts beneath me. It’s time to stop avoiding those questions.
But first? Coffee.
I check my phone and something sharp rises in my belly when I see a text from Dad, but then I open it and that sharp shifts to something I can’t name.
Just want to say sorry for coming on so strong yesterday. Neither of you deserved it.
I read the message four times and still don’t know what to do with it, so I shove my phone in my pocket and amble into the kitchen.
There’s a sticky note on the pot informing me Nash will be working late tonight, reminding me to do my exercises, and to have a great day.
I pull it off with a sigh, thumb tracing the words.
Something about the gesture makes me sad.
Maybe because part of me knows this is all coming to an end.
As I’m pouring coffee, my phone rings. My stomach drops when I see the screen.
Terrence.
My agent.
Surely, he’s calling about Trish leaving the tour. I’m certain life changing news waits on the other end of this conversation. But for the better? Or worse?
I answer, cradling the steaming cup of coffee as I pace into the living room.
“How’s the ankle?” Terrence asks, voice tight and bright, like he can’t wait to make my day.
“Feels great.” My nerves kick in and I can’t tell if I’m excited or worried. Either way, I’m pacing. Back to the kitchen, around the counter, into the living room once again. “I’m cleared for movement, just no leaps or turns yet, but that feels close.”
“How close?”
I open my mouth to tell him I could probably be back to full strength in a week, then surprise myself by saying, “I don’t really know. I want to ask my physical therapist about that.” The statement shocks the pacing right out of me and I stand, staring at my reflection in the window.
“Let me just cut to the chase here,” Terrence says.
“Because basically a miracle fell into your lap. The dancer who took your spot with Sandro René is leaving the tour and apparently there’s been a lot of injury and all the alternates are already performing.
They called to see how fast you could be ready. They want you back, Lucy.”
“That’s amazing,” I say, forcing excitement into my voice.
“Stuff like this doesn’t happen. If that ankle is even close to ready, take the job. Work with the med team on the tour, whatever you need to do because someone is seriously looking over you right now.”
Nash’s face flashes through my mind. I’ve never felt more looked over in my life than I have with him, though I know that’s not what Terrence meant.
“I mean, it sure feels like it.” I swallow hard. “Let me talk to my physical therapist and get back to you.”
“You’re still gonna talk…?” I’ve never heard anyone as shocked as Terrence is in this moment. “Okay, but Lucy? Don’t wait too long. Things move fast in this industry. Attention spans are short and dancers are a dime a dozen.”
I nod, almost as dumbfounded as Terrence that I’m pausing. “I won’t wait too long. I just want to be sure, you know?”
“I guess,” he replies, unconvinced. “I’ll stall with the director, but call your guy now, if you catch my drift.”
“I hear ya,” I say, then tap the ‘end’ button.
I’m pacing again, gripping my untouched coffee, so amped up I’m not sure caffeine is prudent. This is it. Everything I wanted, everything I worked for. A second chance in an industry that doesn’t give them.
And I told my agent to wait.
Why?
When I first got hurt, I was willing to dance through the injury so I wouldn’t lose the job. Now, in one breath I’m swearing the ankle is stronger than ever and in the next I’m pausing to think before accepting my second chance.
I put my coffee on the counter with a loud thunk, the liquid sloshing over the brim onto my hand.
This is too big to think through on my own.
I need to talk about it. I grab my phone, then pause.
Who do I call? Not Nash. He’s busy at work and this is a conversation that should happen face-to-face.
Not my parents… Not Stella or Gabby… They’re too biased.
Mentally scanning through my contacts, I land on Bennett. He knows my situation but is removed enough that he doesn’t have a stake in the outcome. He’s the perfect person to help untangle my thoughts.
A quick text has him agreeing to meet me after his shift. A check of the time shows I have approximately five hours to drive myself insane.
The Brass Lantern is so not my vibe. It smells of beer and fry grease.
The guy behind the bar looks like a grizzled veteran or a lifelong sailor who forgot how to smile a decade or two ago.
The lighting’s weird. The jukebox is ancient and dusty—I mean who has a jukebox anymore, anyway?
But then I catch sight of Bennett, and everything feels better.
He waves me over and I slide into the booth across from him, tucking one foot under the other, like muscle memory from all those middle school afternoons when we’d hang out after school.
He lifts his beer, brows raised. “I knew you’d finally choose me over Stella. Just didn’t think it would take this long.”
I roll my eyes. “Remember when you two used to get along? Any chance we could go back to those days?”
“We could… but we won’t.” Bennett grins. “So, what’s up? You here to challenge me to a cornhole rematch after dinner at Mom’s tomorrow?”
“Yep. I’m in need of a win. And seeing as I’m nursing an injured ankle and a bruised ego from my prior defeat. I figured you’d take it easy on me.”
“Absolutely not,” he deadpans. “I will destroy you.”
Despite myself, I smile.
He eyes me for a beat longer, then tips his head. “Tell me why we’re really here, Lu. You could have called anyone else. Why call me?”
I sigh and glance out the window, where the parking lot is bathed in the soft gold of early evening. “I got a call from my agent.”
His brows lift. “Good news or bad news?”
I explain while Bennett listens intently. “My agent says it’s a miracle. That this kind of second chance doesn’t happen.”
“And?” he prompts. “You don’t seem thrilled.”
“I should be.”
“But you’re not.”
I shake my head, my fingers picking at the corner of a napkin. “I told him I’d think about it. That I needed to talk to my physical therapist, also known as Nash. The man I’m living with. Your brother.”
His face flashes through my mind, the warmth and vulnerability in his eyes the night we danced at the pier. The slow thawing of the gruff emergency room doctor into a man so kind and caring and deep that I’m not sure I’ve ever met his equal.
“I’m familiar with his work.” Bennett studies me for a long moment. “So you’re talking to me instead of my brother because you’re stalling.”
I look up, meet his eyes. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’m not sure of anything right now. I was kind of hoping talking about it would help me figure out what I should do.”
Bennett leans forward, folding his arms on the table. “Let me ask you something. If this call came a month ago, would you have jumped on it?”
“Without hesitation.”
“And now?”
I hesitate.
He leans back. “That’s what I thought.”
I run a hand through my hair. “It’s just… this tour is everything I’ve been working for. All the sacrifices, all the hustle, it’s finally paying off.”
Bennett nods, not judging, just listening.
“But I’ve honestly loved being back in Stillwater Bay.
Seeing Gabby and Stella. Reconnecting with you.
It even seems like my parents and I might finally be getting somewhere.
And then there’s Nash. He’s wonderful.” I pause, trying to sum up how close I feel to him, how much I love being with him.
How a part of me wants to live in this bubble forever.
Just thinking about him makes me smile, though the light dims with my next thought.
“I feel stuck between two lives, Bennett. One I’ve worked my ass off for, and one I’m not even sure is mine.”
I keep thinking about what Dad said. About having no place in LA, no plan here.
Giving up a job with real financial security just because I don’t want to leave Nash puts a lot of strain on a brand new relationship.
Would I move out of his house if I chose to stay?
Would that feel like a giant step backwards?
But we’re weeks old as a couple—assuming that’s what we are—and that’s a little early to actually live together for real.
Like, what are we to each other?
Doctor and patient?
Friends with benefits?
Or are we something bigger? More permanent?
Bennett sips his beer while I wrestle with my thoughts, then rests the bottle against the edge of the table. “Look. This decision doesn’t have to be black and white. You could go on the tour and still have a relationship with my brother.” He wrinkles his nose. “As much as it pains me to say it.”
“I’d be gone a year.”
Understanding dawns in Bennett’s eyes. He sits back, bobbing his head slowly. “That’s a long time.”
“Which is why I’m hesitating.”
“Have you talked to Nash?”
“I just got the call today. He’s still at work. I will though.”
“If I’m reading this right, it sounds like whichever direction you choose, you’re gonna be giving up something that matters to you.”
I swallow hard as the man across from me reduces all the pain, worry, and fear into a single sentence.
“I don’t want to hurt Nash,” I say after a beat.
Bennett gives me a sad smile. “Since when have you made major life decisions based on what someone else wants?”
I don’t answer. I don’t have to.
“Whatever you do, Lu,” he says, voice gentler now, “do it for you. Not out of fear. Not out of pressure. Not even out of love.”
That last word does something funny to my stomach.
Do I love Nash? Is that where we are?
I blink fast and redirect my thoughts to the present. “When did you get so wise?”
Bennett gives me a satisfied grin. “Just think, you would’ve had access to this wisdom all these years if you hadn’t chosen Stella over me.”
“I didn’t choose anyone over anyone,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “You guys did what you did and I was along for the ride, like some kid caught between divorced parents.” I laugh, shaky and grateful. “Thanks for talking it through with me. I’ll talk to Nash when he gets home.”
“Probably a good idea. He might surprise you with what he has to say.”
I smile again, but it fades as I nod, already bracing myself for the conversation I know I need to have.