Chapter 12
Twelve
Temps de flèche: step of the arrow.
Rudy
The Dasher house was large and stately and entirely lacking in places to escape.
Thanksgiving was weird for reasons beyond the Alexander factor.
He hadn’t talked to me much since our kiss, not that I’d expected otherwise.
I missed our evening gaming time and how easily we’d chatted. One kiss had ruined everything.
One kiss I couldn’t stop thinking about as I crept through his parents’ house, seeking a moment of solitude.
It was Thanksgiving, a day of gratitude, and while I was incredibly grateful for my mother’s recovery and Alexander’s mother’s hospitality, other forms of gratitude eluded me.
As the afternoon progressed, I ran a gauntlet of questions over my future interspersed with familial achievements to celebrate.
Helen announced a much-wanted pregnancy.
Waylon had a new promotion at work. Shannon had closed a big real estate deal.
The children had all made first-quarter honors at school.
My father had picked a retirement date for the following year.
All good news, and all a reminder of how little I’d personally accomplished.
Worse, I didn’t have the same sort of motivation as the rest of my family.
I envied my siblings’ happy marriages, not their professional accolades.
Further, joining Alexander’s successful family for the holiday only added to my inferiority issues.
The large house hummed with activity: a football game on in the home theater, clumps of guests in the formal living and dining rooms, people in aprons bustling around the large kitchen, shooing the kids back to an expansive family room.
Usually, I’d simply join my nieces and nephews, but they were enjoying bossing around Alexander’s slightly younger niblings and had no time for Uncle Rudy. I slipped away from the family room to the quieter lower level, which featured a wine cellar along with a rec room with a large pool table.
Pool was hardly my game of choice, but I’d spent other gatherings in this house occupying myself down here. I took the stairs quietly, not wanting to call attention to my escape, but I’d barely reached the bottom step when a familiar voice sounded.
“Fancy meeting you here.” Alexander leaned against the pool table. He was otherwise alone in the dimly lit space.
“I’m not stalking you, promise.” I held up my hands, trying hard not to openly admire how good he looked in a baby-blue button-down shirt and gray dress pants. “I just needed a break from my siblings’ successes.”
“Don’t we all,” he drawled before lining up a predictably perfect shot that yielded him two balls in the corner pocket.
“You?” I scoffed. “Your sister might be a doctor, true, but you’re legitimately famous, especially within the global ballet community.”
“Yet I am woefully behind in providing grandkids.” Alexander offered a wry smile that didn’t reach his solemn eyes. “Also, Isabella will still be a doctor at ninety, whereas the clock on my fame ticks that much louder with each passing day.”
I groaned, completely out of patience with his theatrics. “I’m tired of hearing about how old you are.”
“Are you?” Alexander blinked like he was unused to pushback, probably with good reason. He could be rather intimidating. People were likely reluctant to stand up to someone of his stature. I, however, had no such issue, and I had a week’s worth of frustration to unleash.
“Yes. You’re only thirty-four. Boo-hoo, poor Alexander is in his prime.” I laid the fake sympathy on thick before glaring at him. “Do you know how lucky you are?”
“I am lucky. I know that.” Alexander huffed, gaze going to the recessed lights in the ceiling rather than my face. “And it’s precisely because I know how lucky I am that I’m scared of losing the life I love.”
Surprise over his willingness to admit to any sort of weakness went a long way to defusing my irritation. Voices filtered down from upstairs, the sound of my mother’s laugh as welcome as the pie we’d have later.
“Everyone should be so lucky as to get older.” I gentled my tone, but the point needed saying.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Alexander glanced toward the door at the top of the stairs, like his thoughts had followed mine. “I need to stop acting like retirement would be the end of the world.”
“Retirement doesn’t have to mean puttering around.” Perhaps if Alexander stopped thinking of getting older as some sort of prison sentence, he could relax on a personal level as well as professional.
The walls of the rec room were lined with family photos of Isabella and Alexander through the years, and I pointed at one of a younger Alexander flanked by Tavio and Irina.
A beaming Tavio held a baby Kitty who had her trademark wild hair even then.
“Look at Tavio and Irina. And plenty of other dancers who go on to have second acts as teachers, choreographers, directors, and many other careers.”
“True.” Alexander tilted his head, considering. “You’re rather fearless, you know? Not many people dare to get in my face even when I’m objectively in the wrong.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t scare me.” It was at least somewhat the truth.
As an attractive man I’d had a crush on for years, Alexander was terrifying.
However, despite my nerves around him, I also had no problem confronting him when he was being boneheaded.
“You being dramatic about how ancient you are is more comical than scary. I had to face nearly losing my mother this past year. That’s scary. ”
“I’m sorry.” Alexander’s expression softened. “I should choose my words more carefully.”
Perversely, I didn’t appreciate his sympathy one bit. “I don’t want your apologies.”
“No?” His eyes widened. It was readily apparent that he was unused to confrontation. One simply did not hand Alexander Dasher his pretty apologies back, but I wanted far more than his good manners.
“I thought we were becoming friends.” I stepped closer, daring to tap him in the center of his chest. The contact sizzled along with my words. “I want my friend back. I miss you, crankiness over aging and all.”
“I don’t want to lead you on.” Alexander turned away, moving to rack the balls in the center of the table rather than face me. “Or hurt you.”
I made a frustrated noise. “You’re hurting me more by avoiding me.”
“I’m sorry. I never should have kissed you. I made a mess of everything.” Alexander’s seemingly genuine regret only succeeded in making all my prior irritation return. I was not some kid who needed protecting.
“Why not? We’re both single, consenting adults. Why not kiss?” I shrugged like it had all been a grand experiment, not the single hottest experience of my whole life. That I wanted a repeat went without saying, but I wanted an end to the tension between us even more.
“Because kissing complicated an otherwise enjoyable friendship.” Alexander plunked the last of the balls in the rack with far more force than necessary. “Like you, I miss our friendship. I also miss the game of all things.”
I allowed myself a small smile at his admission that we were friends and that he missed me. And the game.
“I knew you’d get hooked.” I raised my eyebrows at him.
“It is rather addictive.” He held my gaze so long that I wasn’t sure we were talking about Odyssey anymore.
“Then why not resume playing?” My voice came out husky. Want coursed through me. He could deny it all he wanted, but he’d enjoyed our kissing. The memory hung heavy between us.
“Because.” Alexander made a vague motion with his free hand. Deep regret had returned to his eyes, and if I knew one thing from years of game playing, it was when not to overplay my hand.
“You think you’re the first rejection I’ve had?” I tried instead. Convincing him that we should try kissing again could wait in favor of getting him back as a friend and game partner. “Hardly. Like I said, I’m not out to stalk you. If you don’t want to kiss again, I’ll deal.”
“But you’re disappointed,” he said quietly.
“I’ll live.” I made my voice far lighter than I felt. “I’d rather keep you around as a friend than continue this awkward waltz of avoidance we have going on.”
“It is rather tedious.” He hummed a jaunty polka, taking a few plodding steps with his pool stick as a partner.
“Precisely.” I gave him the laugh he was so clearly going for. “You’re only in town a few more weeks. Why not put the time to better use?”
“Why not indeed.” He fetched another pool stick and handed it over like a formal peace offering. “It’s not an orc deck, but perhaps you’d fancy a round?”
“I would.” I nodded, matching his more somber tone before brightening. “And speaking of your bloodthirsty ways, there’s no play group tomorrow night because of the holiday, but I’ve tweaked the shark deck with some new cards that arrived.”
“I suppose we could make a game of it.” Alexander was back to his usual guarded enthusiasm, which I happily welcomed.
“Good.” I grinned, deliberately widening my eyes so he’d see I was truly pleased.
It wouldn’t do for him to see any lingering sadness on my part. I’d won back his friendship. My wounded heart could wait.