Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
My chest threatened to cave in.
“You were a kid? That’s the best you’ve got?” Fuck this. Hudson Ellis didn’t get to know the depth of how he’d wounded me. I forced the hurt, the sour taste of betrayal, and the dying hope that he’d had some forgivable reason for ghosting me into a mental box and locked it away just like I did the physical pain during rehearsals. I refused to let it touch me. Then I plastered a practiced public smile on my face.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Doesn’t matter.” I shrugged, then continued up the last few steps. “Maybe it’s hyperbolic to call us best friends when we were really just a summer thing. That particular summer was over. No need to drag up the past.” The words sounded hollow, but I choked them out. I’d convinced myself to believe far bigger lies than this.
“You have every right to an explanation.”
Hold up, was that anger in his tone? I wasn’t turning around to look. The faster I got away from him, the better. “I don’t think I want one, anymore. Nothing you could ever say would make it right. So, let’s just let it go. Obviously, you were too immature to handle what happened to me. Shit happens, right? I’m only here for the summer. You should keep busy . . . rescuing people. It will be easy to avoid each other.” The breeze picked up as we reached the top of the steps and walked onto the perfectly maintained grass.
I startled.
A young girl waited for us, her hands gripping a cell phone in front of her petite frame, her brown eyes widening to the size of saucers as her gaze found mine. There was something familiar about the tilt of her button nose, the hints of copper in her eyes, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Had I met her before? At a performance? An intensive?
And what was she doing standing in the middle of my backyard?
I blinked in confusion as Hudson walked past me to stand behind the girl, putting his hands on her shoulders before turning those green eyes on me in an uncharacteristic plea. Hudson Ellis wasn’t a guy who pleaded for anything. “I’m here because Juniper wanted to meet you.”
Oh. This was his niece. No wonder she looked familiar. Of course, he’d shown me pictures when she was a baby. She’d been a cute one, from what I remembered.
Juniper stared at me and handed him the cell phone. “Did you save her?” She risked a peek up at Hudson.
He kept that beseeching look aimed at me. What? Like I was going to be a jerk to a little kid? Maybe I’d earned my reputation for being quiet, maybe even a little standoffish, but never mean. Only Hudson brought that out in me.
“I wasn’t drowning,” I answered the girl, then retucked my towel and held out my hand. Her uncle might be an ass, but that wasn’t her fault. “Hi, Juniper.” The corners of my mouth tugged upward as her face lit up. She pushed her windblown hair out of her eyes before taking my hand silently. “I’m—”
“Alessandra Rousseau, I know,” she answered with a toothy grin. “You’re the youngest principal dancer in the history of the Metropolitan Ballet Company, including your mother, who was a legend in her own right before she retired,” she gushed, her words running into each other as her grip tightened. “Your performance of Juliet was perfection, and your fouettés during Swan Lake last season were epic, and all I want to be when I grow up is you.”
Hudson winced.
What? Like I was a bad role model? I bristled, but didn’t let it show. “Well, I’m not much of a dancer right now, but thank you.” Pretty sure she was cutting off circulation to my fingers.
She shook her head with confidence, sending her locks flying again. “You’re just injured. You’ll be back by next season.” Letting go of my hand, she waged war with the wind on behalf of her hair and lost.
“You’re very kind to say so.” Crap, did Hudson’s niece have to be the sweetest kid ever? “I’m guessing you’re a dancer? Is Mrs. Madeline your teacher?”
“Not exactly.” Her teeth bit into a chapped lower lip.
I glanced up at Hudson and immediately regretted it. That face, the way he looked at me like he knew me underneath the years of layers I’d worn for everyone else, cut right through my defenses like that kettlebell through the water, and I hated it. Whatever string had tied us together all those years ago—friendship or something that could have been more—it had been unraveled to a thread, but was still there, as annoying and certain as physics. Time to snip and get it over with. Closure and all.
“This is where it gets awkward.” His focus bounced over my features like he needed to memorize everything in detail in case this was the last time he ever saw me.