Chapter 8 #2
About ten minutes passed before he settled into his seat and raised his gaze up to meet mine. There was this shy, worried look there that caused my breath to catch in my throat.
“Are you ready?” he asked, again with a wink.
What was with all the winking? Was this new or had he always been a winker?
I cleared my throat. “For what?”
He strummed loudly and quickly as he raised his eyebrows. Then he stopped and raised his hand up in an exaggerated way. “To be blown away.”
I rolled my eyes as I brought my legs up to hug them. Then I faked a yawn. “Eh, we’ll see.”
Ethan got a determined look on his face and turned his focus to his guitar. Music filled the studio and he closed his eyes. The sound, the beat, it all flowed through me in a way I’d never had happen before.
And then, when he parted his lips and began to sing, my life slowed down. It sounds dumb to say that time moved in slow motion, but it did. All I could see, all I wanted to see, was Ethan.
His voice was deep and rich as the words left his lips. His expression moved with the song like he was living it as he created it. He was a different person. He looked whole. He looked…happy.
Once the song ended, he let the last few notes hang in the air before he clutched the neck of the guitar and turned his attention to me. I’m not sure what I looked like, but it must have been unnerving because his brow furrowed and a worried look passed through his gaze.
He cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows. “So, yeah, that’s me playing the guitar.”
Not sure how to express the emotions that he evoked in me, I did the only thing that came to mind. I clapped.
Ethan stared at me as I rose to my feet. “Ethan, you’re amazing,” I said as my clap died down.
He narrowed his eyes and blew out his breath. “You’re just saying that,” he said. For a fleeting moment, I saw a small smile tug on the corners of his lips.
I had no problem telling someone when they did great. And Ethan was amazing. “I have to admit, I was skeptical. But now that I’ve witnessed it, you’ve got to pursue this. It’s not just a hobby.”
He studied me for a moment before he dropped his gaze. “Yeah, well, my dad will never go for it.” He sighed as he strummed a few cords. “You know, family legacy and all.”
I did know. I knew what it was like to disappoint and it sucked. If I could meet the requirements of dancing, I was pretty sure I would do it even if I hated it. I was desperate for my mother’s approval. Because when it’s gone, it sucks.
“Does he know?” I asked.
Ethan glanced up at me. “Does your mom know?”
Heat pricked at the back of my neck. “It’s different for me,” I said as I turned. I didn’t want Ethan to see the pain that was so close to the surface. Blast him and his emotional songs that had me all out of whack.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a tone that told me that he was being honest.
I glanced over at him to see that his shoulders were slumped. He smiled at me when I caught his eye.
“Seems like this is a touchy subject for both of us.” He strummed a few times. “I guess having your dreams on display is always hard.”
I swallowed, forcing down all of the emotions that felt lodged there and nodded. “Yeah.”
He started on another song and I wandered over to the window and glanced out. The sun was setting, causing oranges and purples to streak the sky. I wrapped my arms around my chest and let out a breath.
Normally, I kept things bottled up. But the fact that he felt the same for playing the guitar as I did for dancing changed things.
It was like he knew what I was going through. The desires and disappointments that came from wanting something in direct contrast to what your parents wanted.
I tightened my arms. My heart hurt and for some reason, holding my arms closer to my chest felt like a way to suppress that hurt.
I knew what Ethan and I were doing was temporary. There was no way we could keep this up forever. At some point, his father was going to realize that he was amazing and accept Ethan as a musician. Then Ethan would go off, become the next guitar playing president.
He could change his future if he wanted to. I was sure of it. There was nothing inherently wrong with him that would stop him from him pursuing his dreams. But me?
I wasn’t going to be able to change. No matter how much I wished or tried, some things weren’t in the cards for me. And where would I be then?
Right where I was in this moment.
My future wasn’t going to change and right now, that was hurting me more than ever.
His voice behind me drew me out of my thoughts.
“Ethan is walking toward you now,” he said in a comically low voice, like a broadcaster or a narrator or something.
I whipped around to face him. “What are you doing?”
“I’m announcing my presence,” he said matter-of-factly. “Didn’t want to sneak up on you again. Although…” One of his eyebrows hitched up as he stopped in front of me. “You are pretty cute when you’re scared.”
He gave me a smile that was magic—it had to be magic. What other explanation could there be for the way that smile made my heart stop hurting?
“I wasn’t scared.” That was what I said aloud. In my head, a voice was screaming, He thinks I’m cute?
“Uh huh,” he said. “Whatever you say.”
He was teasing. Maybe even flirting. And I…I loved it.
Thoughts of the future and my mother—they didn’t stand a chance when he was looking at me like this, with his eyes full of laughter and his lips curving up in a sexy smile that seemed like it was meant just for me.
“You’re up next,” he said, nodding toward the dance floor.
I blinked as nerves hit me like a bucket of ice water. I wasn’t nervous about the dancing—that I could do in my sleep. It was the fact that he’d be seeing me in my leotard again, and that he’d be touching me.
“Come on,” he said as he set his guitar back in the case. “What are you so worried about? I’ve already seen you dance, remember? I already know that you’re amazing.”
A tremulous smile tugged at my lips despite this new, crippling fear. “Amazing, huh?”
He grinned, and moved closer. “Show me what you need me to do.”
My throat worked as I tried to swallow past the nerves and the fear that was creeping up my insides making it hard to speak. But he was waiting for me, and it was now or never.
I didn’t think; I just acted. Grabbing his hands and placing them on my waist. They were large and warm, and the feel of his hands on me made my heart leap in my chest.
I looked up, bracing myself for his reaction as he felt my softness. But all I saw there in his eyes was warmth.
Heat, actually.
His brown eyes were darker than ever as they met mine. “What now?”
Had his voice always been this low and rumbly?
I could feel it, like a bass line thrumming through me.
I swallowed again, and this time my throat worked.
I drew in a deep breath. “You won’t be lifting me today,” I said, trying to keep my tone matter-of-fact.
“I don’t want to injure Oakwood’s star quarterback. ”
He laughed and his hands tightened on my waist. “I can handle it.”
I can’t.
I cleared my throat. “Maybe. But there’s more involved than just picking me up,” I said. “Male ballet dancers aren’t just brutes who’re good at heavy lifting. There are movements you need to learn first.”
His smile widened with amusement. “Did you just call me a brute?”
I gave a huff of laughter. His teasing was helping to put me at ease, and I was starting to get comfortable with him touching me, especially since he hadn’t run away in horror.
“I meant it in the nicest possible way,” I said, donning a sugary sweet smile that made him laugh again.
“Well, okay then.” He leaned down slightly so his face was close to mine. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
Kiss me. Touch me. Tell me you think I’m pretty.
Oh, the thoughts that went through my head were dangerous. And ridiculous. But the nerves were gone now, and I was filled with that crazy sense of freedom that comes with conquering a fear.
Maybe it was adrenaline, I don’t know. All I did know was that I was ready to dance, and for the first time in my life?
I had a partner.