“I’m sorry,” he said in a tone that told me that he was being honest.
I glanced over at him to see that his shoulders were slumped. He smiled at me when I caught his eye.
“Seems like this is atouchy subject for both of us.” He strummed a few times. “I guess having your dreams on display is always hard.”
I swallowed, forcing down all of the emotions that felt lodged there and nodded. “Yeah.”
He started on another song and I wandered over to the window and glanced out. The sun was setting, causing oranges and purples to streak the sky. I wrapped my arms around my chest and let out a breath.
Normally, I kept things bottled up. But the fact that he felt the same for playing the guitar as I did for dancing changed things.
It was like he knew what I was going through. The desires and disappointments that came from wanting something in direct contrast to what your parents wanted.
I tightened my arms. My heart hurt and for some reason, holding my arms closer to my chest felt like a way to suppress that hurt.
I knew what Ethan and I were doing was temporary. There was no way we could keep this up forever. At some point, his father was going to realize that he was amazing and accept Ethan as a musician. Then Ethan would go off, become the next guitar playing president.
He could change his future if he wanted to. I was sure of it. There was nothing inherently wrong with him that would stop him from him pursuing his dreams. But me?
I wasn’t going to be able to change. No matter how much I wished or tried, some things weren’t in the cards for me. And where would I be then?
Right where I was in this moment.
My future wasn’t going to change and right now, that was hurting me more than ever.
His voice behind me drew me out of my thoughts.
“Ethan is walking toward you now,” he said in a comically low voice, like a broadcaster or a narrator or something.
I whipped around to face him. “What are you doing?”
“I’m announcing my presence,” he said matter-of-factly. “Didn’t want to sneak up on you again. Although…” One of his eyebrows hitched up as he stopped in front of me. “Youarepretty cute when you’re scared.”
He gave me a smile that was magic—it had to be magic. What other explanation could there be for the way that smile made my heart stop hurting?
“I wasn’tscared.” That was what I said aloud. In my head, a voice was screaming,He thinks I’m cute?
“Uh huh,” he said. “Whatever you say.”
He was teasing. Maybe even flirting. And I…Ilovedit.
Thoughts of the future and my mother—they didn’t stand a chance when he was looking at me like this, with his eyes full of laughter and his lips curving up in a sexy smile that seemed like it was meant just for me.
“You’re up next,” he said, nodding toward the dance floor.
I blinked as nerves hit me like a bucket of ice water. I wasn’t nervous aboutthe dancing—that I could do in my sleep. It was the fact that he’d be seeing me in my leotard again, and that he’d betouching me.
“Come on,” he said as he set his guitar back in the case. “What are you so worried about? I’ve already seen you dance, remember? I already know that you’re amazing.”
A tremulous smile tugged at my lips despite this new, crippling fear. “Amazing, huh?”
He grinned, and moved closer. “Show me what you need me to do.”
My throat worked as I tried to swallow past the nerves and the fear that was creeping up my insides making it hard to speak. But he was waiting for me, and it was now or never.
I didn’t think; I just acted. Grabbing his hands and placing them on my waist. They were large and warm, and the feel of his hands on me made my heart leap in my chest.
I looked up, bracing myself for his reaction as he felt my softness. But all I saw there in his eyes was warmth.
