Her discomfort was obvious, but I needed her to know they didn’t disgust me at all. I took her foot and pushed my thumb into the arch of her foot, and she groaned. “Good?”
Nat chewed her bottom lip and looked at me. “You really don’t have to do that.”
I dug my thumbs into the rigid band of her sole. The thing was wound so tight I was surprised it didn’t snap. “I know I don’t,” I said as I continued to massage her foot.
“They look worse than they are,” she muttered.
I doubt that. Looking at her foot, there was no way it didn’t hurt every day. I had to assume the other one looked just as bad. As I continued to massage her foot, the tension in it eased.
“Oh my God, you have magic hands,” she moaned.
I raised an eyebrow and smirked at her.
“Haha, smartass.” She shoved her heel into my gut then set the other foot on my lap, silently letting me know it wanted the same attention.
Nat tilted her head to the side and studied me with a soft smile on her face. “You really are something, Asher Briggs,” she said.
“Why’s that?”
“Most guys, well people in general honestly, find my feet disgusting. I’ve had a lot of stress fractures and breaks over the years.” She shrugged. “Dancer’s feet, what can I say?”
I rubbed the knotted bone on the side of her foot, and she winced slightly, so I eased up. “Warrior’s feet,” I said.
“What?”
“These aren’t dancer’s feet, Nat. You have bunions and hammertoes and,”—I tweaked the top of her middle toe—“this one is practically sideways. Most people would barely be able to walk if their toes looked like this, and you dance for hours a day on them. You’re a warrior to do that when I can see how painful that must be.”
“Definitely not a warrior.” She exhaled and sank deeper into the sofa. “I don’t think I want to keep doing it.”
My hand stopped dead. “What do you mean you don’t want to keep doing it?”
A sliver of hope ran through me at the idea of her not going back to New York.
“I don’t know. I’m just so tired of it all. The pain. The life. The constant competition.” She pinched her bottom lip between her fingers and pulled it away from her teeth. “It’s exhausting.” She looked up at me, and her eyes filled with sadness. “I’ve reached every goal I set for myself. I’ve been the lead in every major performance for the past eight years, and still, it doesn’t feel like enough. Someone is always gunning for my place, hoping I get injured or can’t dance so they can have my spot. I don’t feel like they’re my friends, really. How can I?”
She sat quietly for several moments. “I’m lonely. I want more in my life. I didn’t realize just how much until I came back here.” She pulled her foot out of my hand and sat up cross-legged, facing me.
“What are you saying?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” She studied me for several beats. “When I came here this summer, I knew this would probably be my last season with the company. I just can’t do it anymore, but I didn’t have a clue what I wanted to do next.” She shifted on the sofa.
It took everything in me not to press her for an answer, to tell her to stay in Hollow Peak. With me. “And now?” I asked. My heart pounded in my chest.
“Now I’m wondering what you’d say if I stayed.”
“Do you even have to ask?”
“Yeah, I do. I mean, I think I know what you feel, but…”
“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m crazy about you, Nat.”
She grinned. “I’m crazy about you too.”
I grabbed her arm and pulled her back onto my lap. “If you’re asking. Yes, I want you to stay. Hell, I want you to move in here and pack this house with babies with me.” Her eyes widened.
Shit, was that too much? The last thing I wanted was to scare her. “I was willing to settle for long distance since there’s no way I would ask you to give up your career and your dreams for me.”
She stroked the side of my face. “Dreams change.”
