Beneath The Stars
Chapter twenty-five
Aurora Driscoll
Hayes Rosewood is lying on my bed.
Hayes Rosewood is lying next to me, on my bed that’s covered in ruffles, and beneath those ruffles are sheets printed with Sleeping Beauty characters. I stare up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling and wonder how I ended up here.
“You teach ballet?” he asks in a low voice.
I’m not sure why, but the fact that he chooses those as his first words to me makes some of the tension leave my body.
“Yeah, at the dance school I grew up going to.”
“I’m trying to picture you as a teacher, but I’m failing,” he replies, amusement threaded through his raspy voice.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You remember how I had to tell you the truth earlier?” he asks in return.
My brows pinch together in confusion. “Yes?”
“That means you have to be honest when you answer my next question: have you ever made a student cry?”
I gasp and sit up, turning to smack him on the chest.
“You jerk!”
He chuckles, and the sound unwinds the anxiety in my chest further.
“That wasn’t a no.”
I glare at him. “One time, okay? I didn’t realize how sensitive seven-year-olds could be.”
Laughter fills my bedroom and I hit him again. He grabs my wrist and dons an incorrigible grin.
“Why don’t we save the sparring for our date?”
I go to hit him with my other hand, but that’s a mistake. Within seconds, I’m on my back underneath him, wrists pinned.
“What are you doing?” I hiss, my eyes darting to the door. “Someone could come back here any second.”
“I warned you,” he teases, and the warm tenor of his voice sends ripples of heat through my body.
“That was not a warning—it was a suggestion at best. Now let me go.” I struggle beneath him, but it’s no use. The man is made of pure muscle and fights people for fun.
His eyes meet mine, and the look in them makes me go still.
There’s something gentle hidden within them.
And he’s smiling, but it’s more soft than teasing.
My lips part. No words come. His gaze dips.
I’m suddenly aware of everywhere we’re touching.
The weight of his body pressed against mine.
His large hand holding both my wrists. My face heats.
“If we were somewhere else …” he whispers as his gaze travels, caressing my face without truly touching me.
My mind races to fill in the blanks of his sentence, but the logical part of me is putting up blockades, not letting me think too long or hard about it.
I watch Hayes’s throat bob as he swallows. He shakes his head a little, like he’s waking up from a dream, and falls back beside me. Slowly, I pull my hands down from above my head, barely resisting the urge to settle one over my pounding heart.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the recital?” he asks.
The emotional whiplash of the change in conversation stuns me silent for a moment.
Once my brain catches up, I whisper, “I didn’t think you’d care.”
“You came to my fight. I should come to your things too.” He pauses. “No one is going to believe this if we don’t show up for each other.”
“That’s sort of the problem,” I mumble. “My parents love you, Hayes. And apparently my brother idolizes you.”
“I don’t understand. Wouldn’t it be bad if they didn’t like me?”
I rub my eyes, feeling a headache blooming behind them.
“I-I don’t bring guys home, okay?” Embarrassment crawls over my skin like ants. “And because of that, my mom is probably seeing wedding dresses and table settings whenever she looks at you. They’re going to be heartbroken when this is over.”
Hayes is quiet for a moment, and I worry that I’ve hurt him somehow, though I’m not sure what I could have said. He came up with this arrangement with the assumption that it would end.
“Tell them I turned out to be a jerk,” he says after a moment. “Say you caught me with another girl or that I stopped treating you well or broke up with you over text out of the blue.”
I turn my head toward him.
“What? I couldn’t do that.”
He turns too, meeting my gaze with a half smile.
“Sure you can. Everyone already says stuff like that about me. It doesn’t bother me. Let them hate me, and it’ll distract them for a little while from things to do with you.”
“But you train with my brother. It wouldn’t be good if he hated you.”
“It would motivate him to get better so he could beat me.”
I let out a little laugh.
“That makes no sense.”
“You’d be surprised how motivating anger can be in the ring.” His hand finds mine in the dark and squeezes. “Say whatever you need to when it’s over. In the meantime, I’ll be here for you however you need.”
Guilt pricks at my heart. So far, Hayes has overpaid me to tutor him, bought me iced coffee, new shoes, and made my family fall in love with him so much they might just forget to pester me for a while. And in return I’ve given him basically nothing but a few study tips and snarky remarks.
“Why?” I whisper. “Why would you do all of this for me?”
“You’re helping keep stalkers at bay, remember?” He smiles, running his thumb over my hand. “And, I’m having fun.”
My brain trips over the word fun. I’m not sure anyone has ever described me as fun.
I can’t help but wonder when he’ll stop feeling that way.
I’m not going to want to go out all of the time like he does.
My life revolves around school and ballet.
I doubt that our little back-and-forth can hold his attention for long.
Not when he’s got every girl on campus begging for his attention.
“Can I come to your recital?” he asks when I don’t say anything. “I’d like to see you dance.”
I turn my gaze back to the stars on the ceiling.
“You don’t have to. I can tell my mom you had something on that day. She’ll understand since you didn’t know until today.”
“But if I never see you dance, how am I going to tell people years from now that I got to see you before you became a world-renowned principal dancer?” His voice takes on a faux wistful tone that draws a laugh out of me.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Mm, but I made you laugh.”
I don’t bother to stifle the smile that stretches my lips.
“Okay, you can come, but don't embarrass me. My friends insisted on coming too, and I’m worried there are going to be signs involved. Or T-shirts.” I let out an exasperated sigh. “So I don’t need more chaos.”
“I’ll do my best,” he replies, sounding far too mischievous for my liking.
I turn my head toward him again. Our gazes collide. That soft look is back in his eyes, and I don’t know what to do with it. To do with him. I’ve never had so many feelings about a person before, both good and bad.
“We should probably get up before my parents come to find us. As much as they want me to get out and live life, I don’t think they’d appreciate seeing us like this.”
“You’re probably right, though I could stay here a little longer.” My face burns at his flirty tone. “Princesses have the most comfortable beds.”
I reach up behind me and grab a pillow, smacking him in the face with it before sitting up.
“I despise you.”
He pulls the pillow away and grins.
“Rule number two.”
I throw another pillow at him, barely containing a smile at his resulting laughter. I don’t know what this is or what I’m doing, but maybe that’s okay. Because it seems like Hayes is in the same boat, and he’s not trying to jump off anytime soon. So we can enjoy the ride together.