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“I’m pretty sure you didn’t find love at two. From what Mom told me, you came out of the womb wearing a business suit and a scowl.”
Mike’s words cut deep. “Mom said that about me?”
“Relax. She was teasing. Mom said stuff like that about each one of us. And she had every right to, being the one person on earth who knew each one of us the best. But focus, big brother. We’re talking about the woman you love, here.”
“I told you, I never admitted to that.”
“Never admitted to that—you make love sound like something bad!”
“It’s not, I just…” Wes hung his head, exhausted. The morning with Noelle had beaten him up emotionally, he’d run himself into the ground physically, and the conversation with his brother wasn’t giving him any energy.
“Hey. Remember when I fell for Anna?”
Wes smiled. “Yeah, I do.”
“I was a mess of crazy. She had me turned inside out and sideways. That’s how you know, man. I’d have turned the world upside down if that would’ve made her happy. You’ve never been this nuts over a woman. Ever. You’d let that wall you’ve got around you stay up. And since I know you better than anyone, I’d say you’re losing it because that defense is down and you haven’t a freaking clue what to do about it.”
Not only was his brother dead right, Wes didn’t want to put the wall back up where Noelle was concerned either. His defenses were down with her and he wanted her to step inside them with him and never leave.
“I hate it when you’re right.”
“I love hearing you say those words.”
“Pansy.”
“Mule.”
They both laughed.
Mike stood and patted Wes on the shoulder. “If you love her, then fix it. Make things right.”
Wes nodded as his brother left him alone in the gym. He shook his head, wiped his face again with the towel. Mike was right. About everything. Wes was in love with Noelle. Admitting that was as if a weight lifted off his chest. Now he just had to figure out how the hell to fix things with her.
Chapter Sixteen
Noelle searched thearea backstage for one of her student’s lost ballet slippers. Frantic didn’t even begin to describe her current state. After Wes had left the previous morning, all she wanted was to curl up in bed with the covers over her head and cry the day away. But with a dress rehearsal last night and all the ducks she had to get in a row that morning, she didn’t even have time to think about crying over Wes St. Claire, let alone actually shedding tears.
Well, she’d shed tears. Cried herself to sleep last night, in all honesty. Holly asked what happened when she’d gotten home, but Noelle didn’t have the energy to tell her sister all the details. Going over and over it in her head for hours had exhausted her. She waffled between wanting to forgive him and let it go, to being furious with his need to be in charge of everything. She wasn’t some fragile flower that couldn’t handle the truth. And what was he protecting her from if the deal was such a good idea?
The same thoughts had moved to the front of her mind over and over the past twenty-four hours until she was forced to push them back. She was in charge of a gaggle of leotard-encased children, all hyped up on the excitement of the performance they were putting on that evening. Noelle was aware that Wes would be there to see Annalise dance. She hoped to stay backstage as much as possible, giving her a much higher chance of avoiding him.
“Have you found it yet, Miss Noelle?”
A small hand tapped her leg. She looked down into the eyes of one of her youngest students, the child whose ballet slipper she’d been in search of when her thoughts derailed her from her task.
“Not yet, sweetie, but we will. Tell me again where you were when you were putting them on.” It was uncanny how a child could put one slipper on then somehow lose the other that sat beside her, but she was all too aware of the short attention span of little ones. Keeping them focused in class was a challenge, to say the least. The poor child had run off to play with a friend clad with only one slippered foot, any thoughts of the other one left in her wake.
“Miss Noelle.” Another tiny hand tugged at her other leg. “I don’t think this is right.” She held up a ballet slipper in her hand while staring down at her feet, both of them wrapped in a shoe meant for a left foot.
“Well now, I believe you’re right. We don’t want you having two left feet in our dance tonight now, do we?”
Noelle knelt before the little girl, her joke lost on the young child. She slipped off one shoe and in no time flat, had both girls wearing the correct footwear and skipping along on their merry way.
“How you holding up?”
Noelle pushed to her feet to meet her sister eye to eye. “I’m fine.” She’d been able to give Holly a cliff notes version of what had happened between her and Wes that morning over coffee and a piece of toast—all Noelle had had time for before racing out the door.
“You said that earlier. I don’t believe you.”
