Chapter 76 #2
He shrugs, a slow, infuriating movement. “Maybe.”
Lou grabs my shoulders and spins me around. “Welcome to your studio!”
I blink. “My what?”
Jax steps forward and drops a set of keys into my hand.
“Your studio.”
I stare at them, then back at the empty space around us. I look at the tall ceilings and the huge windows. I look down at wood floors scuffed with age.
“Lou said it’s exactly how it should be,” Jax adds.
I shake my head, my throat closing up. “Jax… I can’t take this.”
“Sure you can.”
“I can’t pay you for this.”
“It’s a gift.”
I stare at him like he’s completely lost his mind.
“You’re gonna have to pay the bills,” he continues, ignoring me completely. “Because I definitely can’t afford those.”
Lou nods enthusiastically. “You can do that, right Sisk?”
I look around again, completely overwhelmed. “You two are insane.”
Lou spreads his arms proudly. “Correction—I found it.”
Jax rolls his eyes. “You found it because I told you to.”
Lou ignores him. “This place was a disaster when I first saw it,” he says. “Pigeons living in the back room, cans everywhere, even one very suspicious mattress.”
I make a face.
“But the bones?” Lou says, knocking his knuckles against one of the beams. “Perfect. Big windows. Good floors. Plenty of space for you to yell at ballerinas.”
“I don’t yell at ballerinas.”
Lou snorts. “You absolutely will.”
I look back at Jax, my voice barely a whisper. “Why?”
“Because you were running out of reasons to stay.”
My throat tightens. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yeah,” Lou says immediately. “He did.”
Jax glares at him.
Lou grins. “I mean, the man would not shut up about it. He woke me up once at three in the morning to look at a fucking building permit.”
I look at Jax and he suddenly looks very interested in the scuffed floorboards.
I turn back to Lou. “So… are you gonna help me?”
“With what?”
“With this,” I say, gesturing around the room. “If I’m doing this, I’m going to need a partner.”
Lou blinks. “You’re hiring me?”
“I’m thinking about it,” I say, looking around again, a real smile finally breaking through.
Lou studies my face, his own expression shifting. “Wait,” he says slowly. “You’re serious.”
“Yeah.”
“You mean… like a real job?”
“Well, you are gonna need to find us students,” I say.
He laughs, a bright, happy sound, then stops. Lou looks around the room again and I see he wipes under his eye quickly.
“Are you crying?”
“No,” he says immediately.
“You are.”
“You started it.”
I laugh even though my eyes are answering for me.
Behind us Jax shifts. “Why are you both crying?”
“Anyway,” Lou says loudly, clapping his hands. “We celebrate now.”
“With what?” I ask.
He reaches behind a box and pulls out a bottle of cheap champagne.
Jax lifts a brow. “Flowers, Lou. I specifically said flowers.”
“What? You got your girlfriend a dance studio,” Lou tells him. “I felt that deserved bubbles.”
I cough.
“Friend,” Jax mutters, his voice low and annoyed.
Lou looks between us. “Sure, friends.”
* * *
A YEAR LATER
Knock, knock. The sound echoes through the empty studio. I turn from the barre, where I’m holding a deep lunge, my muscles trembling with the effort. Jax stands in the doorway, one shoulder against the frame like he’s not sure he should be here.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice a little breathless as I slowly straighten up, reaching for my water bottle.
“Just checking on a friend.”
It’s insane what just his voice does to me. I tilt my head, my body still warm and loose from stretching. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah.” He shuts his eyes, his face a mask of pain, and I see the faint, dark lines starting to flicker around them. “You don’t need to hide them here, Jax.” My voice is softer than I intend.
His eyes snap open, the red flaring bright for a second before he banks it.
“You good?”
He exhales through his nose, a sound of pure frustration. “Been better.” A beat of silence hangs between us. “Fuck the full moon.”
I nod, my heart giving a familiar, painful squeeze. “Yeah,” I say quietly. “Fuck the full moon.”
He lifts a paper bag. “Wine?”
I smile faintly, taking a slow sip from my water bottle. “Oh. I was just finishing stretching.”
“Can I watch?”
“Me stretch?”
“Yeah.”
He pulls the cork with his pocket knife and takes a sip of the red wine straight from the bottle, his throat working as he swallows, then passes it to me.
“Never thought this would work,” I say as I lift the bottle to my lips.
He raises an eyebrow. “The studio?”
“No.” I look at him. “Us. Friends.”
“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “We did.”
I lean against the barre, the cool wood a stark contrast to my heated skin.
“How’s the bar?”
“Alright.” He glances around the studio, his gaze taking in the new mirrors, the scuffed but clean floors. “Here?”
“Filled up.”
“That’s great, Sisk.”
“Lou’s a hard worker. Been great actually.”
“Happy to hear.” He takes the bottle back from me, his fingers lingering on mine too long before he drinks again. He lowers the bottle slowly, his tongue darting out to lick a drop of wine from his lower lip.
“You look good, Sisk,” he says, his voice lowering another octave, turning the simple words into something hungry and intimate. “How’s everything else?”
“Fine. You?”
“Fine.”
We both know neither of us means it.
“You seeing anyone?” he asks, the question a casual knife twist.
“Maybe.” I take a sip of wine, my eyes challenging him over the rim. “You?”
“Maybe.”
I study him, a slow smile playing on my lips. “She good in bed?”
He snorts. “Jealous, rabbit?”
I shrug, taking another sip. “I happen to notice the nicer the guys are…” I let that hang there. “…the more vanilla the sex is. It’s a scientific fact.”
He laughs quietly, a dark, rough sound that makes my head spin. “Yeah. That tracks.”
“Can’t have it all, I guess.”
He nods toward the floor. “Go on.”
“What?”
“Let me see what the stretching looks like.”
“It’s boring.”
“Come on. Entertain me. It’s the least you can do since I brought the wine.”
I look at him. “You still see in the dark?”
“Yeah. Why?”
I walk to the light switch. Click. The room goes black except for the moonlight through the tall windows. Then I hit the radio.
“It’ll help,” I say, moving back to the barre, my body already knowing the way. “If I can’t see you.”
He leans against the wall, a silhouette in the gloom. “Why? Do I still make you nervous?”
I lift my leg slowly onto the barre, the muscles in my thigh screaming in protest. “What if I say yes?”
I start stretching slowly.
Jax doesn’t move or say anything as he watches me.
I slide my foot along the wood, arching, turning, letting the movement roll through my hips, my back, my shoulders.
When I glance over I realize he’s closer.
“You’re so good at this,” he whispers.
“What, stretching?”
He shakes his head, his eyes glowing. “At torture. And pretending.”
“Pretending what?”
He steps closer. “That you’re not mine.”
He turns me suddenly, one hand firm at my waist, the other tangling in my hair. My hands grab his arms before I can stop myself, my nails digging into his muscles.
His mouth comes an inch closer to mine, but instead of kissing me, he licks my lips, then bites them, pulling them with his teeth before plunging his tongue in an overwhelming claiming kiss.
My entire body wants to give in, but I can’t.
I need to stop this. I need to be stronger if I don’t want to crash when he leaves again.
I push him back. “I’m not anyone’s.” I step away with my heart pounding. “I’m free.”