CHAPTER FIVE
Cara
In all the years I’d danced, I’d never had a problem maintaining my composure onstage.
But tonight, when I chose a spot in the crowd to focus on during a series of pirouettes so I wouldn’t get dizzy, it was my bad luck that my eyes had landed on an unusually good-looking guy in the crowd. He was sitting next to Libby Hart.
It may have been six years since I’d last seen him, since he’d obliterated my heart, but I’d know him anywhere. I had bobbled slightly and had to fight to keep from over rotating so I could maintain my balance.
Edward Ashton.
I’d always thought if I ever saw Edward Ashton again, I’d confront him.
I’d tell him how badly he hurt me all those years ago.
How awful it had been to give my heart to a guy I’d thought was perfect—kind, sweet, funny, handsome—and have him crush it.
I’d tell him he’d messed me up and made me so gun shy I had difficulty dating and committing to men to this day.
Sure, some of that was because no one could measure up to who I’d thought Edward was.
And some was my busy schedule. But most of it was because I’d trusted him with my heart, my body, and my future, and he’d let me down so, so hard.
Either that or I’d turn and run the other way. I do like to avoid conflict after all. It wasn’t a trait I loved about myself, but I couldn’t deny it.
But the reality was… different. Seeing him in the audience next to my friend’s mother, looking more handsome than anyone had a right to—my brain malfunctioned.
It was like the years fell away, the hurt evaporated, and it was one of our lazy summer days again.
And all I wanted to do was hug him, talk to him, be near him… anything, really.
And I knew I was in danger of falling under his spell again before I’d even said one word to him. I shook myself out of it, pasted on my most dazzling smile, and kept dancing.
I’d powered through the rest of the performance and the encores without looking back at Edward, though it was hard. Now, I was backstage taking off my stage makeup and putting off getting ready for the Harts’ big season kick-off party.
Now that I wasn’t trying to dance in front of hundreds of people, I let the thoughts of times gone by filter in. It wasn’t hard. Most of the time I had to try hard not to think of those times. It was easy to let down my guard and allow the memories to wash over me.
I couldn’t help but think back to the summer we were sixteen. We’d thought we had the entire world at our feet and endless amounts of time to be together.
“That was so stupid,” I muttered to myself as I finished wiping away all traces of stage makeup and fell back into that summer from so long ago.
***
Cara, sixteen
My eyes drifted open, and I smiled as lacy curtains blew around in the June breeze coming in through the window closest to my bed.
I had been home from my performing arts high school in Atlanta for about a week, and I was loving every minute of downtime.
Would I have to practice hard all summer to stay in tip-top shape to compete for premiere dance spots next year?
Absolutely.
But I had a part-time job at my old dance studio helping my former teacher Mrs. Cason.
I was teaching the upper-level class. That would help keep me in shape, and Mrs. Cason also paid me in studio hours.
I would spend at least two or three hours practicing at the studio five days a week for most of the summer.
I would leave to go to a summer intensive with the Atlanta Ballet for two weeks as well.
It was a lot, but it was worth it to me. Dance was my life.
Even with all that, summer was much more laid back for me than the rest of the year.
And I loved the extra time I got to spend with my family.
And summer meant that the boarding school kids were home.
I wondered if Edward Ashton and Alex Lufton would be at the summer kick-off party the parents were throwing this afternoon.
I knew Declan had texted to invite them.
I smiled. The moms and the dads, who we all collectively called ‘the parents,’ threw a party for any and every occasion. The moms were always up for it, and the dads joined in whenever their busy schedules allowed. The four of them loved it, and none of us kids complained.
Any reason to swim, play, eat, and just be together all day and halfway through the night was more than welcomed.
And now that boarding school was out for summer?
We’d be thrilled to have two more teenagers in our midst. Edward and Lufton had fit in so well last year that by the end of the summer it had been torture to see them leave.
Especially Edward… for me at least. He was so handsome, kind, and fun to be around that by the end of the summer, I’d developed a major crush on him.
Not that I’d admit that to anyone. Except maybe Olivia and Declan.
They had probably guessed it anyway. I was close to all the kids, but I considered Olivia and Declan my best friends.
The three of us could read each other like a book.
Declan, and all the Whittaker kids, felt as close to me as my own siblings.
In my heart there was virtually no difference.
I flopped over in bed so I could see outside.
I had a huge old oak tree close to my window.
We all used it to sneak out at night when we wanted to go night swimming or have a secret midnight picnic in the middle of the lake.
The dads had built a floating dock a few summers ago for all of us, and we spent lots of time swimming or canoeing out there to hang out.
I flipped back over, put a hand on my abdomen, and smiled up at the ceiling.
The thought of seeing Edward again gave me a fluttery feeling in my stomach.
And it would be so much fun to watch Lufton follow Olivia around constantly declaring his undying love for her.
Last summer at our end of summer cookout, he’d said it one too many times and she’d pushed him in the pool with him fully clothed.
The look on her face conveyed she thought that would take care of it, that he wouldn’t ‘love’ her anymore after that.
But she’d been wrong. He’d come up splashing and spluttering and telling anyone who would listen that only a girl in love would do something like that.
He’d screamed out, “I have hope! One day, Olivia Hargrave, I’m going to marry you!
” She had clenched her fists and screamed in frustration before running off.
I laughed as I lay there thinking about it.
Nothing dramatic like that ever happened to me.
Not with Edward at least. He’d always talked to me and spent more time with me than anyone else.
But that had been it. One night, towards the end of the summer, the two of us had been by ourselves on the floating dock.
The sun had been setting, the smell of grilling burgers floated our way, and everyone else’s attention had been on something else.
It would have been the perfect time for him to kiss me.
But he hadn’t. He’d just smiled and said we should row back over before dinner.
I couldn’t tell if he was shy or if he just wasn’t into me.
Either way, having him around would definitely make the summer more interesting.
I sighed and then pulled myself out of bed to get ready for the day.
Later, when it was time for the party, our family walked from our house to the Whittakers’. Olivia and I hung back from the others so we could talk privately.
Our houses were close together, but a few acres separated the residential properties from the farmland that seemed to stretch on endlessly on either side of our homes. We lived kind of all by ourselves in our little corner of Wixby. Well, big corner. We owned a lot of land out here.
The only other family anywhere close to the two of ours was the Ashtons.
They lived several miles away, though. They had a huge, brick, manor-style house.
They owned and ran one of the most successful orchards in Georgia, so they needed acreage for their groves and groves of trees.
I’d heard the dads talking about how a few hundred acres was all that separated the Ashton’s land from the farm’s land on the Hargrave side.
They’d said if Mr. Ashton wasn’t such a jackass, they’d have approached him years ago about joining the orchards and Wixby River Farms in a kind of package deal for clients.
But they’d decided he’d be way too difficult to work with.
That had made me worried for Edward. I didn’t want to think of him living with a dad who wasn’t nice.
I couldn’t imagine that. Our house was beautiful and full of love, even if it was always chaotic.
Mom couldn’t have cared less, and whatever made her happy made my dad happy.
Mom grew up in Savannah as a socialite with strict parents.
She was an only child and hated it, so she loved all the noise and craziness having six kids brought.
Every time any of us or the six Whittaker kids did something wild or inappropriate, she just laughed and thought it was great.
Mom being so laid back had its disadvantages, though.
She was fun and more like a friend than an actual mother.
It was actually Orla Whittaker who was more like a stereotypical mom.
I went to her instead of my mother with any problems I was having.
She had helped me when I’d gotten my first period, my first crush, my first kiss, and so many other things.
She’d been the one I ran to when my mom hadn’t listened to me when I’d told her I’d gotten into the performing arts school of my dreams for high school.
Mom hadn’t wanted me to go, but Orla had handled it all.