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Aster shrugs one slim shoulder, her eyes focused on the task in front of her. “I don’t go out very often. It’s usually only when my best friend, Taylor, won’t let me turn her down. Even then we’ll just hang out at one of our places.”
I make a humming sound even though I want to ask her a million questions about why she’s hiding and who she’s afraid of. I know who Taylor is. I’m sure everyone in town does. She’s a realtor, one of the best around. She’s also a frequent patron at The Goose.
I’ve never seen Aster with her though.
We sit together and work, the chatter between us infrequent and light. It’s nice though. There’s something oddly comforting about not feeling the need to fill every second we’re together with meaningless words. I learn little things about the woman who has turned my world upside down, but not enough.
Not nearly enough.
“I’d love the chance to take you out, Aster,” I try to keep the giddy feeling bubbling up in me out of my voice. “Can I?” I clear my throat because I just sounded like an eager child on Christmas morning, and it is not a good look on me right now. “I mean,” I try again, “would you go out on a date with me?”
I cringe internally at how formal I sound, but I don’t want her to misunderstand my intentions. I don’t want to be her friend, even though I’ll be her best friend from here on out. I don’t want what is between us to be casual or short lived.
She’s my forever. That’s all there is to it.
I don’t need to explain it or understand it to know it’s real.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Bowen,” she looks at me, regret swimming in her blue eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, “I’m not the woman you’re looking for.”
She’s wrong. She’s the woman my soul has been crying out for. I’ll find a way to prove it to her. I just need a little time.
CHAPTER 3
ASTER
When I step outside my studio doors, the day finally done, I’m exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. Today was a good day. My students worked hard, and they were all in with me while they were dancing. What more could I ask for?
Maybe someone to share that joy and pride with.
I barely stop myself from groaning out loud. My mind has been trying to push Bowen to the forefront for days now. Ever since he asked me out. I’ve been second guessing telling him no since the words slipped out of my mouth.
I’m just not sure if he’s the kind of man I can trust or not. There are a lot of reasons and, yes, most of them are colored by my experience in New York. I know it’s not fair, but it’s the truth. I have reasons for not saying yes to Bowen that don’t have anything to do with my past as well.
I guess only one. He’s much younger than me. Around ten years younger than me.
That kind of difference might mean a fun time in bed, and I emphasize the might part there, but in a lot of other areas it’ll spell disaster. Does he have the experience to be in a relationship with me? With all my baggage?
He asked you out on a date, it wasn’t a marriage proposal.
Okay, that’s fair and true, but there was something in his eyes. He looked at me like he was seeing so much more than I wanted him to see. There was a determination about him I found surprising.
I’ve heard about Bowen around town, especially since he started working at The Goose. I might not go there often, or ever really, but I have ears. People talk in this town. It’s practically a hobby and a past time all rolled into one.
He’s not a bad guy from what I understand. He’s a typical young guy who has his pick of women and doesn’t make any of them any promises. I can respect that, as long as he isn’t out in the world stringing people along and pretending to be something he’s not.
Which is why I had to say no. He promised so many things without words. Promises I’m not sure he would be able to follow through on. Then there are my own fears about letting a guy in.
I dated a little in New York, but it was hard between taking dance classes anywhere I could and auditioning for limited spots in a sea of talented dancers. Then there were the times when I would get a job and the rehearsal and performance schedule could be brutal.
I barely had enough time for me. Adding another person into my life just wasn’t going to happen.
Then there was the bitter taste in my mouth around men. Encountering men in power who thought they could talk a young, impressionable woman into trading her body for a job made me wary. I never gave into those casting couch offers, which didn’t do my career any favors. I was lucky because I only dealt with people who were overly handsy and not forceful.
And isn’t that just a shame? That I can do mental gymnastics about the level of assault I encountered as if it really makes a difference. I know it doesn’t, but it’s how I can still close my eyes at night and not be lost in the nightmares living in my memories.
I would have given up long before I did if I hadn’t found there were still good people in the industry. Not enough for me to stay, but enough for me to keep trying for a while. Then one director went too far, pushed too hard, threatened too much.
I was done.
