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She did, however, smile sweetly at Drea as she took her position.
“And five, six, seven, eight! Hold, two, three, four, right, left, right, left, pull…pull…” he commanded, as he clapped with each count throughout the short routine. “And turn! Turn! Leap! Higher! Three, four…”
The music was blaring, and Lily was in her element. Everything she wanted was within her reach.
“Keep it going!” Tag yelled as he paced along the mirrored wall until the music ended. “I want to see that one more time and I want those leaps higher and more powerful!” He clicked the music on again from the beginning and counted them in once more.
Slightly winded, she immediately jumped right into it as if she’d had a break. She smiled, she preened, she mentally high-fived herself when Tag winked at her with a nod of approval. She had this—she knew she had this. There was a bit of a high that she got from dancing, and right now, she was experiencing it at a whole new level.
The big finish was coming up again. She nailed her turns and swiveled her hips in a sexy little move before taking her three steps and…
“Leap! Leap!Leap!” he called out, but something in Lily’s hip snapped as she crashed to the floor in excruciating pain.
Well…shit…
ONE
There weredozens of butterflies in Lily Montgomery’s belly threatening to take flight. Today was the day she was both looking forward to and dreading.
The day she found out if she was cleared to go back to dancing.
It had been three months since that fateful leap at dance rehearsals—three months since her dream pretty much crashed and died as she’d crumbled to the floor—but with any luck, her scans would show that she was good to go. With nothing else to do but wait, she pulled out her phone and figured she’d scroll through social media to kill time until the doctor finally came in to see her.
There were three missed calls and two texts from her mother.
Yeah…she’d been avoiding talking to her family because she knew they were worried about her and, truth be known, she was worried about herself too. It was safer to keep her distance, otherwise she’d completely break down and wallow in self-pity. The missed calls had been on the phone for almost a week and she hadn’t listened to the voicemails, but the texts were new.
Mom: Lily, whatever it is I did to upset you, I’m sorry. I’ve left you multiple messages and your father said not to pester you, but I’m concerned.
She laughed softly. Since her father had been a pro-athlete when he was younger, he understood how an injury could mess with you psychologically and the importance of people giving you space while you heal. Clearly, he was running interference for her.
Mom: We’ve got some stuff going on here and I know I’ve been a little distracted, but please call me. I miss you.
Tears stung her eyes because…yeah…she missed her too.
She just didn’t want the pity she’d been getting ever since her injury. It was almost as if her mother knew something she didn’t, like this injury was going to end her career. Glancing around the office, she chose to take it as a good sign that she was sitting here rather than in an exam room. Although…
The door opened and Dr. Mathis walked in. She was the orthopedist Lily had been working with since her injury. She was in her forties, specialized in sports injuries, and came highly recommended. From the moment they’d met, she’d been nothing but kind and understanding, and always put Lily’s mind at ease. But as she walked by on her way to her desk, she suddenly looked a bit imposing.
“Well?”
Dr. Mathis took a seat behind her desk and let out a soft breath. “I wish I had better news for you, Lily, but…”
Her heart sank.
“But I’m not healing,” she said miserably. She’d been preparing herself for this day. After three months of physical therapy, she definitely felt better, but not healed. With her shoulders sagging, she braced herself for what would come next. “So? What are my options?”
With a patient smile, Dr. Mathis replied, “That depends on what you’re looking to do.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, if you want to go back to dancing full-time, then surgery is really your only option.”
“What if I don’t do the cheering? I know that was way more aggressive and challenging than anything I’d ever done before. What if I go back to the Rockettes or…or…Broadway? Or…”
“I can tell by that response that surgery isn’t an option for you.”
It really wasn’t. The thought of it terrified her because there were too many “what if” things that could happen.
