Pas de Deux (Dangerous Dance #1)

Chapter 1

There was something magical about fresh snowfall in the air, something beautifully magnificent and ethereal about seeing those tiny flakes fall from the sky, settling on my lashes and coating my skin in winter’s magic.

The city park practically glittered in the cold, December air, and for a moment, I could almost pretend that I was the main character in a romance book about to kiss my one true love.

But, alas, my real life was far from romantic.

In fact, the only reason I was even at the park wasn’t that I was on a date, but that my best friend was on a date, and for some reason, I’d agreed to tag along with her.

I was really regretting my decision now as the three of us walked down the slick sidewalk, the two of them huddled in close conversation while I hovered on the outskirts.

Should I go home? I don’t think she needs me here, I thought as the two of them started to kiss.

Or, at least, it was probably supposed to be a kiss—though it looked more like he was trying to consume her soul or something. I wasn’t exactly the most experienced with kissing, but I didn’t think it was supposed to look like that.

“What do you know?” a nasty voice inside of me snapped. “You’ve never kissed anyone in your life.”

Which, unfortunately, was true.

When I was a little girl, I used to dream of my wedding day, of the prince I would one day marry.

He would be tall and handsome, charming and considerate, kind and brave.

Someone safe. We’d fall in love at first sight before riding happily into the sunset on our wedding day, probably on a horse and carriage.

Now, as an adult, I wanted the same things—though I was a little less set on the horse and carriage, mostly because I got way too motion sick to do something like that. But a Prince Charming, true love, and a sunset-colored happy ending sounded wonderful.

To my brother, though… that was his worst nightmare.

And in my family, what Jules said went, and he had declared I wasn’t allowed to date without his express permission. I was beginning to accept that I would need to purchase a cat or ten at some point in time.

Yes, that was a little dramatic. Yes, I was only twenty-one, and I still had plenty of my life left to find my Prince Charming.

But anyone who tried to remind me of those things—namely Mia, my best friend—usually shut up when they met Jules for the first time.

According to him, he didn’t ever plan on changing his mind.

Hence the plan to get a cat.

What would I name a cat? I wondered. Maybe Odette… Clara? Sylvie?

I distracted myself with thoughts of the cute baby animals—Oh, maybe I could get one of those super fluffy cats!—while we continued through the park. It was certainly better than trying to think of my nonexistent Prince Charming, who was probably never going to come for me.

Thick flakes of snow settled in my soft curls, and my boots crunched with each step.

Skeletal tree branches swayed in the wind, their boughs strung with warm white lights.

Iron fences were adorned with garlands made of holly and fir, and each gate held a sprig of mistletoe, perfect for the kissing I would never have.

Sugar Plum, I decided. That would be my cat’s name, based on one of my many favorite ballets, because how could I have possibly picked just one?

Every show I danced in became my favorite, which meant that right now, The Nutcracker was at the top of my list. Sure, I wasn’t a big part, but the fact that I was dancing in the most prestigious ballet company in the country made being in the background completely worth it.

Plus, it was how I met Mia.

“Isn’t this so fun, Evie?” she asked, reaching over to squeeze my hand.

No. Despite my fascination with the year’s first snowfall, I wasn’t having fun.

It sucked to be constantly reminded of something I longed for but didn’t have, not to mention I was freezing and exhausted from a gruesome morning rehearsal followed by a chaotic afternoon shift.

I wasn’t planning on coming at all—who wants to third-wheel a first date?

—but Mia gave me one look with her wide, gray eyes and suddenly, I couldn’t say no.

Not that I would have anyway. I had an issue with telling people how I felt, which is why I said yes when Mia was too nervous to go out with Whatever-His-Name-Was, and why I kept trying to gather the nerve to tell her I hated the nickname Evie, yet failing every time.

I was always like this. Constantly sacrificing myself to make others happy—whether that was my brother, Mia, the other City Ballet Company dancers, or my coworkers at the cafe I worked at—was easier than dealing with what happened when I didn’t.

Because what if they needed me to say yes? What if their happiness rode on a teensy bit of mine? How could I put myself above them like that?

I couldn’t.

Which was why I plastered a big smile on my face and said, “Yup! So fun.”

“Carmelo,” she said, turning back to her date. “Tell me about your job again.”

Oh, yeah. Carmelo, I thought, though I didn’t feel too bad for not remembering. Mia was the type to fall in love on a Friday and fall out of it by Monday, which meant that Carmelo had two more days to go before he received a breakup text. Poor guy.

I hoped I was wrong. I hoped Mia could find the happiness she deserved—for both of our sakes. I was tired of tagging along on first dates, even though I knew she was probably inviting me because she hated thinking of me sitting all alone in my apartment.

Which, yes, would have been a little sad, but that was why I was going to get Sugar Plum, and everything was going to be absolutely amazing again.

Carmelo’s voice was impossibly deep as he recounted his job at a warehouse outside of the city, tracking shipping logistics.

That was about all I got from what he said because my mind began to wander shortly after he began, which it did often.

My thoughts were a labyrinth, and I followed every golden string in hopes that I would one day be able to escape it.

The snow looks so beautiful. It’s like I’m in a fairytale.

If I were a princess, I wonder which one I would be… Maybe the Swan Princess? No, I’m not brave enough… The Little Mermaid? Yuck, then I have to be around fish. Oh! Maybe I’m Snow White. I do like apples…

Gosh. My feet hurt so bad. I really need to stop agreeing to cover Sam’s shifts after rehearsal, but they have a lot more friends than I do, so it wouldn’t be fair to keep them from them when I see Mia all the time.

Oh my God. What if that bump I just stepped on was actually a baby rabbit? What if I killed it?

Am I going to get arrested for bunny murder? Do they arrest people for that?

I have to go back to save it. I have to help it. I—

“Evangeline,” Mia said softly, wrapping her hand around my arm and squeezing gently with a tight smile that showed her worry in the corners of her eyes. “You all right?”

My head whipped around to the bump only to find nothing there at all. I blinked a few times to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, but when no dead baby bunny appeared, I let out a gentle exhale. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine.”

Mia’s eyes were all-knowing before she turned back to her date, thankfully giving me space to exit the labyrinth on my own.

I tried to please everyone. Even my own head. But there, I always failed, no matter how hard I tried.

Most people, when I told them I had obsessive-compulsive disorder, or OCD, always chuckled to themselves before saying, “Yeah, I’m pretty organized, too.

” And while I could definitely see why they thought that OCD was just being clean or tidy—because I was both of those, as were many people in my online support group—that wasn’t everything.

OCD felt like… Well, it felt like living with a constant swarm of bees surrounding my head, each of them a different thought or anxiety that would sting and sting me until I fell to the ground.

Sometimes, I would try to swat a bee away, but that would only make it angrier.

It would attack me harder and harder and harder until I screamed and begged for it to leave me alone.

So it was easier to live with the buzzing and hope I didn’t get stung.

It wasn’t just noise. It was a threat.

My thoughts latched onto things. Little bumps in the road, something someone said to me earlier in the day, the feeling that I would never be good enough to make my dreams come true.

It was all about fear. Fear that I wouldn’t amount to anything, fear that I would hurt others, fear that I would hurt myself.

I couldn’t pick up a knife without being terrified I would slit my own throat.

I couldn’t drive a car without having a panic attack, because every pothole was a person.

I couldn’t do anything without being afraid.

The fear had become so normal that it controlled every part of me.

Mia knew this about me and had trained herself to watch for the signs that I was on the verge of a spiral.

I suspected that her younger sister, Charlotte, who was one year below me in the dance program at my former university, had asked Mia to keep an eye on me.

Though she was a few years older and a few years deeper into her ballet career, we went together like silk and glitter.

So I didn’t mind it when she tore me from my thoughts, even if sometimes ignoring them with her made them louder.

“Let’s do something fun!” she said, clearly trying to distract me. “How about a snowball fight? It’s perfect weather.”

I glanced down at my outfit. It was adorable, but if I got hit with one snowball, I would be soaked to the bone.

My fur-lined coat was the perfect shade of ballet pink, my favorite color, matching the cute bow I tied half of my hair up with.

My white tights completed the outfit along with my pink boots.

Jules had practically shoved a pair of gloves on my hands, so I did have those, but they were made of delicate, white lace—not good for a snowball fight.

But me being me, I just smiled and said, “Sure! Sounds like a great time.”

When Carmelo nodded his agreement, we all split up.

I ducked behind a streetlight and began to imagine myself caught in the warm, yellow glow by a handsome man who would wrap me in his arms and kiss me until my whole body flushed.

A man who’d take control from my wretched illness and leave my mind empty and my body breathless.

I tried to picture a face for my prince, but whenever I tried to think about it, the details went fuzzy. Like I hadn’t yet seen the one who would be right.

I was so caught up in my daydreams that I failed to notice a snowball flying my way until it landed on the back of my head, covering me in white.

“AH!” I screamed when the cold dripped down the back of my coat and beneath my dress—again, I really didn’t dress practically.

Mia, who was hiding behind a majestic elm tree, giggled before crying out, “Oops! Sorry, Eva! If it makes you feel better, your hair still totally looks amazing.”

“I know, but— urgh! I’m all cold now!”

Mia opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a snowball hitting her square in the chest. Carmelo laughed loudly, and I took that as my cue to run.

If I got far enough, Mia wouldn’t be able to hit me.

Her tall, lithe body contained absolutely no muscles outside of the ones she used for dancing.

I turned around to check if they were running after me when—

BAM!

I ran into something hard, something very, very, very hard and immovable. I smacked into the ground, knocking my head against the hard thing I ran into, which I was beginning to realize, despite my slight concussion, was a person cursing under their breath.

Crap.

“Oh…” I moaned, rubbing at my forehead. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t—”

But then my eyes slowly fluttered open. And I saw him.

My Prince Charming.