Chapter 18
APRIL
Iwatch through the window in the dance school between the waiting room and the studio. A little group of girls in leotards are dancing in a circle together. I can’t help but smile at the little ballerinas who seem to be enjoying their class.
Spencer asked if I wanted to hang with him and Hadley, and it was an easy yes.
He's in the car on the phone while I came in to pick up Hadley. He explained he doesn’t enjoy listening to the dance moms who always have drama, so I would be doing him a favor; plus, his agent called in the car.
Parents are only allowed to watch the kids dance during select weeks, but I can’t help but be a rule-breaker.
“Sorry, are you here for Hadley?” the receptionist asks. She's sitting behind a little desk with a laptop. The woman herself looks like a dance teacher, my age too, and completely stunning, with light brown hair and a great complexion.
“Oh.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I am, actually.”
“The new nanny?” She smiles politely.
“No, I’m…” Why can’t I say a friend of Spencer’s? “Uhm, a friend of the family. Spencer asked me to help Hadley grab her jacket after class. He’s out in the car.”
She gives me the once-over, but her smile doesn’t falter. “I get it.” She tightens her ponytail. “I’m Romy, I own the studio.”
“Oh right, well, this is a lovely little place. Hadley talks about dance class all the time.” I do my best to be friendly.
“She is a sweet little girl.” Romy holds a finger up. “Before I forget, her new ballet shoes came in.” She leans down to a delivery box on the floor, filled with new shoe boxes, picks one up, examines the side to check the size, and then hands it to me.
“Thanks. I guess little feet grow fast,” I comment.
Romy crosses her arms and looks at me, almost entertained. “I’m sorry. I must be staring, I just… I’ve never seen anyone here other than Spencer, his mom, or a babysitter that changes in rotation. I kind of thought Spencer doesn’t really do relationships, you know?”
My brows arch, as I am trying to figure out if she is talking from experience or genuinely attempting to make conversation. “Really, it’s nothing. We're good… friends.”
“Good. Really good, perfect.” Her lips roll in and then quirk out as she pulls her sweater tighter around her body, and I think I have my answer of why she is asking, but then she surprises me. “He doesn’t let many people into his inner circle, but it’s nice that he has, is what I mean.”
“Sure.” I nod.
The sound of the class wrapping up and a door opening from the studio breaks this awkward conversation.
“Well, maybe I will see you around. I’ve gotta run, I’m teaching the advanced pointe class next,” she mentions and begins to move.
Advanced, of course.
Romy touches my arm in passing. “Please thank Spencer.”
“For what?”
“I know it was him who paid for the extra shoes and costumes for one of my students whose family could use the extra help now.” She offers me one more smile before heading off.
I don’t have time to digest this fact that I’ve learned, as Hadley is skipping in my direction.
“April, did you watch me?” She hops in place with excitement.
“You bet I did. Those were some amazing sautés, mademoiselle.” I place my hand on her shoulder and guide her to the wall of coats hanging on hooks to encourage her to gather her things.
Her bun nearly knocks me over when she leaps in front of me to grab her coat. “Where’s my daddy?”
“In the car, but if we play our cards right then we can convince him to go to Jolly Joe’s.”
“Yes! I’m hungry.”
“Well, then hot chocolate here we come.” I tuck the box with her new shoes under my arm and follow Hadley to the front door. She waves to all her friends.
It’s turning cold out, which means we race to the warm car. The moment we get in, I declare our plan. “The ballerina has spoken and to Jolly Joe’s we shall go.”
“Oh, has she?” Spencer gives me a knowing look.
“Please, oh please,” Hadley pleads from the back with her hands together before petting Pickles who's sitting on the seat next to her.
Spencer rolls his eyes at me. “I’m outnumbered, aren’t I?”
“You are.” I toss the box to Spencer. “Here, her new ballet shoes arrived. She should probably wear them around the house a little before she uses them, to avoid blisters.”
“You’re the pro, so I may actually listen to your advice.” He begins to pull out of the parking spot, his forearms on display as he rests his arm on the back of my chair as he shoulder checks out the back window.
It’s a few beats before I realize that Hadley is occupied with Pickles and this SUV is big enough that I can ask Spencer something I have no business knowing.
“You know who is a pro?” I begin. “I met the studio owner back there, a real delight, very interested in your private life.”
Spencer gives me a humorous side glance before focusing on the road. “And?”
“I’m sure she is more than advanced at her techniques.”
“Not having this conversation here,” he rebukes.
I cross my arms and nearly huff, instead opting for silence for the next three minutes until we get to Main Street, and say nothing until we are inside Jolly Joe’s and we order at the counter.
“Can I pick out a dog treat for Pickles?” Hadley asks before we sit down at a fifties-style booth. Jolly Joe’s makes little peanut butter treats to give to dogs, as they are welcome here.
“Go wild,” I say.
She skips off, and I check to make sure my loyal beagle is lying at my feet.
Spencer looks at me with a wry smile, and his eyes possess a curious glint.
“You were saying?”
He isn’t going to let me forget.
I play with a napkin. “Nothing. Just all the dancers and pioneers in this town over the age of twenty seem to be drawn to you, or is it you already went there with good old Romy?”
God, I hate the way I sound. Why do I care?
Spencer takes a sip from his water, calmy, almost as if he is calculating what to say. “I wouldn’t hook up with someone who is responsible for Hadley’s favorite hobby.”
My nose tips up.
“I mean, that was the rule I made after, but you know,” he adds.
My mouth opens but no words come out until he starts to laugh.
“Relax, I’m messing with you. Romy has a husband.
She's high school sweethearts with the contractor for my house renovations, actually.” My jaw relaxes, and I feel silly.
Spencer reaches across the table to touch my arm. “Jealousy is kind of hot on you.”
“I’m not jealous,” I lie.
“A little jealous.”
“Not at all.”
“It’s okay. I think I might strangle a guy who looks at you like he has a chance too.”
My eyes dart to his, and I can’t read him, but I sense that he is letting a chip off his steely exterior, and it causes a line to creep up on my mouth.
For a moment, I forget where we are, and it feels like it’s only me and him, and I like that we are at peace with one another, relaxed enough to be ourselves with no walls, otherwise we will just tear them down. We aren't capable of hiding, not around each other.
“You know, many athletes perform good deeds and make a big thing about it for attention or publicity, but not you, Spencer Crews.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Romy wanted me to thank you for the extra cash for supplies,” I mention.
“Hmm. She must be confused.” He avoids my penetrating gaze.
Admittedly, his lack of wanting praise is a surprise. This is the guy who loves to hear that he has a winning arm, but when it comes to a noble act he plays mute.
And that makes me add another point to the scoreboard when it comes to Spencer.
The waitress disrupts us when she brings us a giant kitchen sink of ice cream covered in whip cream, sprinkles, and a few cherries. Hadley is not far behind.
“This is dinner?” Spencer pretends to be unamused.
“No. This is what Hadley and I are eating for dinner. You were Mr. I Don’t Eat Ice Cream So I Will Have a Water.” I grab a spoon and scoot over so Hadley can sit next to me. “Don’t forget our deal.” I hand Hadley a spoon.
“I know. I have to eat some of the banana from the ice cream.” She frowns.
“Banana splits are not banana splits unless you have a banana,” I inform her again.
We both assess where to dig in first.
“Are you sure we can’t convince you to have a bite? If you ask nicely, I’m sure we will share. Oh look, peanut butter, that’s protein.” I point out the section of the sink bowl with peanut butter and chocolate.
“Daddy doesn’t eat many sweets. He's boring like that.” Hadley speaks with a full mouth.
Spencer immediately looks taken aback. “Boring?”
“I’m sure he will prove us wrong.” I hand him a spoon.
“He never eats ice cream,” Hadley reminds me.
Spencer holds up his spoon for show before taking a spoonful of whipped cream and ice cream.
Hadley and I look on with interest and watch him eat his first bite. We both gasp at his move.
“I’m completely cool.” He now speaks with his mouth full.
Hadley giggles before she takes another bite.
“See? I bet you want another bite too.” I’m confident with my appraisal.
He tips his head in doubt, catching my eyes for a brief second, before ceremoniously dipping into the pile of ice cream again.
Hadley giggles, and this time a big smile erupts on Spencer’s mouth. And the next twenty minutes is an abundance of ice cream tasting, smiles, and listening to Hadley talk ballet. I sense that it’s their way of bonding, and I feel special that I get to witness it.
By the time we make it home, Hadley is out like a light, and Spencer carries her up the stairs. I follow because I just want to change into my pajamas, as the ice cream was heavy.
“April,” Spencer loudly whispers.
“Yeah?” I yawn as we reach the top of the stairs.
Spencer turns to me, and it’s quite a sight to see him holding a child this way. Another drop of my melting heart hits the ground.
“Want to sneak into my room in like an hour?” His voice does sound tempting.
“Hmm, maybe,” I coyly reply and never confirm.
Instead, I walk straight to my room.
But, of course, I have no spine anymore around the man, so exactly sixty-two minutes later, I creep through the door to his bedroom to find him waiting in bed.
“You’re late.” He grins.
I stand before him and elongate my neck. “Ooh, were you counting down the seconds?”
He laughs and moves the duvet to invite me in. “Seconds is maybe a stretch, but I’ll give you a minute or two.”
I don’t hesitate and slowly glide a few steps in the direction of the bed he has kept warm. “We keep meeting here.”
Sliding between the sheets feels like a prize. It’s all the things I enjoy; warmth, sex, and apparently, Spencer.
He lies on his side, quick to trace the lines of my body with his finger while he watches me sink against his mattress. “Why do I see a glimpse of something as pink as a Barbie?”
I laugh under my breath, as he must see my bra strap. I like my choice today; it’s hot-pink and has strings across my cleavage. “Might have dressed for the occasion.”
His mouth nips my shoulder as he sounds his endorsement. “I like the effort.”
I reach up to stroke his face, my thumb rubbing a circle along his stubbled jaw. “Did you have a good day?”
“I did.”
This is us having our moment. Where we check in with one another like two people who care and are attentive to one another before we go back to fulfilling each other's needs.
He combs his fingers into my hair. “I feel like I keep repeating myself and saying thank you a lot lately.”
“It’s called manners,” I retort.
“Is it strange we just kind of gel together?”
“It happens when you live together, even if for a few days. But Hadley knows that I’m just a friend, right?” I double-check.
“I think so.”
I draw a circle on his bare arm that is holding me. “I'll head back to the city at the end of the week, nonetheless. It’s probably better for her.”
He doesn’t answer, but I feel his fingers entwine tighter around my locks.
“For now, I’ll sneak out after you ravish me,” I attempt to lighten the mood.
“Stay the night and sneak out in the morning,” he states.
I peer up at him, and I see it’s what he wants, maybe needs, but most of all, I hear a command, as if I’m his.
I nod in agreement before our lips meet for a kiss that I realize I’ve been craving since the last one.
Because I may not have figured him out, but he managed to peel away the layered walls that I had around him, and right now, I just want to fall asleep in the comfort of his arms after we do the one thing that we’ve always been good at; making each other feel free for a moment.