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I gave him the address. “A backpack?”
He winked. “Pressed up against my back and holding on for dear life.”
Ash helped me with my helmet before putting on his jacket and helmet. I took the opportunity through the dark visor to just look at him. It was good he was coming with me. I didn’t want to be alone either.
“Okay, backpack.” His voice was louder than I expected in my ear as he climbed on. “Let’s go.”
I climbed on behind him. Ash didn’t hesitate to reach back and pull my hands around his waist. “Don’t let go.”
There wasn’t any chance of that now.
Asher revved the engine before speeding away, and my shriek was mixed with his laughter.
CHAPTER NINE
________
SLOANE
Having Asher in my apartment was… weird.
Walking in with him behind me made me look at it with different eyes. I’d decorated the place for me, and it was comfortable. But I wondered what he thought of it. If it looked like a place worth spending five years away from him.
“Where’s the ice?”
“Can I get you a drink or something?”
He raised one eyebrow and pointed at the couch. “Sit your ass down on the couch and tell me where your foot tub is.”
I stared at him, testing whether or not he was serious. He was. Faster than I thought possible, he closed the distance between us and lifted me off my feet, carrying me over to the couch and setting me down. “Where is it?”
“Under the kitchen sink.”
“Okay.” He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “Stay here.”
I was too tired to even think about disobeying. My feet needed this sooner rather than later. I could only soak them in the ice for fifteen minutes or things got a little rough.
Ash kneeling in front of me and gently peeling my battered feet out of my shoes and socks did things to me. I winced, and he slowed down. “Kit?”
“My bathroom. Down the hall, through the bedroom.”
He came back and began to clean my feet. After the ice bath, I would bandage them. The mixture of ice and epsom salt would help, but regardless, this week would be painful. “I’m not sure this is a good idea,” I said softly. “A week to do this? I don’t understand why he’s pushing it so hard. Why not bring us back sooner and do a proper rehearsal run?”
That first meeting with Ian and Mark where Ian had gotten angry was not only a meeting with him. It was to sign a waiver for extra rehearsal time and the run ofGiselle. But what he’d said and what we were doing were opposites.
Our normal schedule was company class and two three-hour blocks of rehearsal split with a lunch break. Today we’d… I glanced at the kitchen clock. Holy fuck, we’d done almost twelve hours today. No wonder I was in pain.
Not only the length of time, but in a normal rehearsal run we were bouncing between different shows. Switching it up meant different choreography so we didn’t work the exact same spots on our feet. And different roles made it so we had more rest. The same show over and over for double the length of time each day? Brutal.
Asher glanced up before guiding one foot into the cold water. “He couldn’t because of the current contracts.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He couldn’t call you in earlier because of the contracts at SCB, and he didn’t have the power to change them. Next year I imagine he will, but that’s why we all signed the waiver for extended rehearsal time. Ian wants to make a splash. If this isn’t the best season Slate City Ballet has ever done, he’ll consider it a failure. I didn’t even think about it when I signed it. Now I’m questioning everything.”
“Perfect.” My sarcasm dripped off the word. “You’ve worked with him before?”
“I have. Not in a couple of years, and he wasn’t my favorite, but he is good at what he does.”
