Chapter 4
FOUR
COLLETTE
This was bad. This was so very very bad.
What the holy loving crap was Ethan doing here? Staring at me with that goofy smile? How long had he been here? What had he seen?
I glanced down quickly as if to make sure that what I was wearing was indeed what I was wearing.
Yep. A leotard. And tights.
Well, Ethan now knew everything. Every lumpy, rolly detail of my life he was now privy to. There wasn’t a part of my body that he wasn’t intimately aware of now.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to curse. I wanted to hate him for interrupting my me-time. It felt as if he’d walked in on me while I was showering and instead of leaving, he decided it was best to just stand there and stare.
Every girl’s dream. Exposing herself to a hot guy only to have her true self be so hideous that all he could do was gawk. Like I was a specimen in the circus.
I took the stunned look on Ethan’s face as my cue to leave. Reaching down, I grabbed my hoodie, threw it on, and hurried from the room.
Just when I thought I’d cleared the door, a hand wrapped around my arm and suddenly, I was being dragged back into the studio. I moved to speak, but I was too shocked.
One, that Ethan could actually move me. I knew he was strong, but I didn’t think he was that strong.
Two, he didn’t seem disgusted. Instead, he looked intrigued as he stared down at me.
I knew I should have been worried when I heard the sound of the studio door click shut. I should have run screaming from the room. I didn’t know this guy. He could be a predator for all I knew.
But the realization that if I did run screaming, it would draw Mom’s attention and then she’d know that I was hiding out, dancing in the studio slammed into me.
If Mom found out that would only elicit a long talk about body image and the expectations of a dancer.
And I couldn’t go down that path. Not again.
So I’d brave it out with this Ethan guy and just hope I could outwit him if he had some devious plot planned. It was already established that in a battle of strength, I would lose.
“What…I mean…how…” Ethan’s stammering was sort of adorable. His cheeks were pink and his eyes wide. I could see flecks of yellow in his dark brown irises. They intrigued me and I found myself leaning in to get a better look.
Until I realized that I was the one leering, so I forced myself to pull away.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, tired of standing there, trying to decipher if Ethan was going to make fun of me or not.
Ethan cleared his throat and then blinked a few times as if that was all it took to knock him from his stupor.
His smile turned sheepish as he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“Sorry,” he said.
Goosebumps rose up on my skin as I took in the depth of his voice and the way it sounded like he was flirting but in a stealth, James Bond sort of way. Which was so ridiculous to even think. Ethan didn’t flirt with girls like me. He flirted with the Biancas of the world.
And then I felt stupid. Of course. That’s why he was here. He was looking for Bianca.
“She’s not here, you know,” I said as I reached down and began to zip up my hoodie. I was trying to ignore the hurt that made my chest feel too tight. When did I become the sort of person that obsessed about a guy and what he thought about me?
It only ended in my heart being broken and the guy galloping away on his white horse with anyone else but me. I needed to get it through my head that girls like me never ended up with the guy. Period.
Ethan furrowed his brow as he leaned in. “And how do you know who I’m looking for?”
I scoffed as I wandered over to do barre and lifted my leg. I needed to stretch or I was going to feel it tomorrow. At least under the protection of my hoodie, I didn’t have to worry about Ethan getting an eyeful.
But when I glanced over at him, his eyes were nowhere near south of the border. Instead, he looked quite amused as he studied my face.
I glared at him and then shrugged. “Because eventually, guys like you always come looking for girls like her.” I leaned over my leg that was propped up on the bar. I could feel the stretch in my hamstring so I leaned closer.
“Wow. You’re really flexible for someone who doesn’t dance.”
I glanced over at Ethan to see him staring at my leg. Worried that he was staring a little too long at my many flaws, I dropped my leg and turned so he was now at my back.
“You know who is really flexible? Bianca is really flexible. She’s won the academy’s highest award three years in a row.” Great. Now I was babbling. And about Bianca. Why don’t I just set up a romantic dinner for them and call it quits?
“Bianca?” Ethan asked. He sounded more confused than certain and that caused me to look over my shoulder at him. Just as he met my gaze, I felt myself fall. I yelped and stumbled, bracing myself for the floor.
But it never came.
Instead, two very strong arms wrapped around me and I was suddenly weightless. My body stiffened when I realized, Ethan had lifted me up.
Oh no. Ethan had lifted me up.
I scrambled and pushed against him, desperate for him to put me down. It was one thing to guess my weight by looking at me. It was a whole other thing to verify your guess by holding me.
In my flailing, Ethan seemed to pick up on the hint and grunted as he lowered me to the ground. Once my feet were firmly planted, I straightened my hoodie and glared at him. He studied me with his eyebrows furrowed.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
My cheeks burned as I decided to drop to the hardwood and keep my stretching to a place where gravity couldn’t betray me.
“I’m fine, why?” I asked.
Ethan glanced around and then sat next to me, wincing on his way down. I studied him, wondering what that expression had been.
Once he was situated, he glanced over at me. “What?”
“What’s with the wincing?”
He pulled one leg in while extending his other leg, just like I was doing. I giggled as I watched him lift his arms over his head and lean to the side.
His face flushed as he straightened and shot daggers my direction. “I’m—it’s just that I’m dying here. I’m so sore that I can’t even make it down half the field. Which for the quarterback, is a bit of a problem.”
I nodded as I pinched my lips. I’d expected that. “I’m guessing you didn’t stretch after, did you?”
Ethan cleared his throat. “Not really into stretching.”
I nodded as I stood and moved to stand behind him. I lifted his arms over his head and then pushed on his back so that his hands were nearly touching his feet. He groaned as I pressed into his shoulder blade harder.
“Stretching is important. For any sport,” I said as I let up on his back and Ethan sprang back into place.
He nodded and then switched his legs and attempted the stretch on his own. He barely made it to his ankle. I shifted my weight and pressed my knee into his other shoulder blade.
“You know, for someone who doesn’t dance, you sure know a lot about it.”
There was a tugging on my heart with Ethan’s words. It took a lot of effort to remind myself that I was not born to be a dancer. That it just wasn’t written in my genetic code. And for the most part, I could accept that. That dancing was just going to be a hobby for me. Nothing more.
But there was something to the depth of Ethan’s voice. Or the way he spoke about me and dancing like it was a no brainer that allowed my soul to think, for just one moment, that he could be right.
I straightened to give Ethan a break and just as I did, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
And, that’s why I live on Earth where reality reigns supreme.
“I never said I don’t dance. I just said I don’t take classes,” I said as I left him to stretch on his own and settled back down next to him.
Ethan stopped moving and was staring at me. I could see his gaze from the corner of my eye. He was trying to figure something out and the obnoxious part of my brain wanted to know what that was.
“What?” I asked as I pressed my feet together and drew them inward. Then I cocooned over and rested my forehead on the floor.
“I’m just trying to figure you out,” he said.
I tipped my face to the side so that I could meet his gaze. He had his hands extended behind him and was leaning back. He seemed to have given up on stretching as his legs were extended in front of him.
I sighed as I straightened. “Why? There’s nothing special about me. I’m as boring as they come.”
I hoped that he would take that response and leave it, but of course, he didn’t.
“I doubt that. Boring people don’t hide that they are incredibly talented at something.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded toward my tights.
A warm, hot-chocolate feeling rose up inside of me at his compliment. He thought I was talented?
I mean, sure, he’s a jock who rams into guys every Friday night. But he had stood there, watching me dance for an unspecified amount of time. That had to account for something.
But reality sucks and creeps up on you eventually. In the same moment that I allowed myself to feel excited that Ethan thought I was talented, I remembered that talent wasn’t my problem. That it wasn’t the reason why I wasn’t enrolled in the academy.
And that reason was one that I’d been fighting my whole life.
Tears stung my eyes and that only angered me more. I was okay with my future and the lack of ballet in my life. I was okay with the fact that I was stuck on the sidelines, cheering for everyone else’s future but my own. I was okay that I had to hideout in the studio to dance after hours.
I’d accepted everything about my future. Yet, all it took was one compliment from Ethan and suddenly, my resolve crumbled around me. I drew in a deep breath. “I’m not a dancer anymore.”
His brows drew together in confusion. “If you’re not a dancer, then…
what was that?” He gestured toward the dance floor where I’d been rehearsing the routine that I’d never perform.
Always the understudy, never the star. That was a saying, right?
If not, it should be—it pretty much spelled out my life.
I followed his gaze, staring at the polished wooden floorboards like they might hold the answer. If I wasn’t a dancer, why was I dancing? I shrugged. “That was just for me. For fun.”
When I glanced over to look at him, the breath left my lungs in a rush. His dark eyes were filled with intensity. They were focused on me like I was the center of the Universe. Like I was some amazing treasure he’d just discovered. I looked away first.
“I should get changed,” I said as I moved to leave.
Ethan scrambled to stand and was over to me at a speed I would have never guessed he could produce. I mean, the man was built like a MAC truck and we all know how fast they are at getting up and moving.
“I have a proposal for you.”
I paused, wondering if I heard right. “You what?”
He cleared his throat as he ran his hands through his hair. His lopsided smile caused my heart to pick up speed—only for a moment—before I shut that ridiculous reaction down.
“I’m thinking we could help each other.” He pointed to my chest and then to his like I needed help remembering who ‘each other’ was.
I folded my arms as I stared at him. “And what could you possibly be able to help me with?”
He swallowed and then raised his hands up and moved them around. “With dancing. I noticed the last move you did required someone to lift you up.” He dropped his hands to his side and shrugged. “I could do that.”
Yes, he could. He’d already proven that. And it would be fun, finally dancing with a partner. Solos were great, but there were so many moves I’d wanted to try but had been unable to.
However, it would require him touching me. All. Over.
I scrunched up my nose and shook my head. “No thanks, I’m good,” I said, turning to leave.
He moved—again with that speed—and situated himself in front of the door. “In exchange for my help, you can help me.”
I paused and then glanced up at his ridiculously wide grin and knee-buckling dimple. I growled and reached around him to open the door. “What if I don’t want to help you?”
Ethan leaned back, pressing his body weight on the door. “Well, that wouldn’t be very nice.”
I stared up at him as I attempted to pull the door open. Even when I threw my weight behind it, I couldn’t get it to move a centimeter. I was stuck in the studio until I agreed to whatever deal Ethan wanted to make.
So I sighed, blew away the loose strand of hair that had fallen from my bun and straightened. “What could I possibly have that you want?” I narrowed my eyes and placed my hands on my hips. And then I winced. “And please don’t say the inside scoop on Bianca.”
Ethan straightened as well, bringing him even closer to me.
I caught a whiff of his cologne and his closeness was definitely awakening a part of me that I’d begun to doubt even existed.
After all, there wasn’t a line of guys waiting to kiss me.
I’d all but given up that I’d ever be attractive enough to tempt a guy.
Startled and a little scared, I stepped back to give myself some space from the feelings that Ethan was eliciting. If he noticed my retreat, he didn’t say anything.
I held my breath, waiting for him to respond. If he said Bianca, I was going to punch him. Right here. Right now.
He laughed. It was genuine and warm. And I liked it.
“I want nothing to do with Bianca, trust me. I know what girls like Bianca want.” He shrugged. “I’m not that kind of guy.”
I narrowed my eyes. “So what kind of guy are you?”
He held my gaze for a moment before he sighed and dropped his gaze to study the floor. I waited, wondering if I’d asked the wrong question. Just when I decided that I should try to walk back what I said, Ethan parted his lips and said something I never in a million years thought he would say.
“I want to play music.”