“I need to ask you something.”
Setting his tablet aside, he nods for me to continue.
“If you had to choose… me or your hunt for Casanova?”
His fingers stroke the skin of my lower back, just above my bare ass. The intimacy is sharp and excruciating. Within me, all my muscles are tight, waiting for his answer.
The Viking tilts his head, causing strands of golden hair to fall over his ear. I reach up and push them behind it, my fingertip gliding along the cartilage’s curve.
He licks his lips, his gaze intent. “My commitment to finding him pre-dates us.”
My hand drops as my stomach knots, and my heart sinks.
He pauses. “Where do you see this going? The way you like to live is the polar opposite of the way I do.”
“Is it?”
“At the end of football season, I’m always glad to get a break from roaring stadium crowds. All year, the thing I look forward to is early summer when I’ll retreat into the quiet of the woods.”
“I think that’s great.”
“Yeah, but that’s not what you crave, right? When you perform, you burn so bright you could light the eastern seaboard.”
“I do love performing.”
“After graduation, you’ll want to be on the road, right? Singing? And touring with superstars as a dancer or something?”
“I don’t know. I wish, but probably not.” The dark unhappiness that grips me when I think about graduation casts shadows on my soul. “No,” I add with what sounds more like certainty. “I swore I wouldn’t pursue it after college. That was the deal I made.”
“With who? Your parents?”
“Yeah.”
“Think you’ll be able to give it up?” There’s a slight shake of his head, like he can see into me and knows the way I struggle every day against my dread over the fact that in less than two years, I’ll have to leave dance behind.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s risky to pursue a dream. But even more so to give it up.”
I open my mouth, but the words die off because there’s noise downstairs. His uncle is home. Pulling away from his body, I sit up and look around for my clothes.
The bed sags and then springs up as Erik rises. He’s unhurried as he dresses. Unlike me. I slide out from under the covers, grab my panties and pants, and drag them on quickly.
“You don’t need to rush. I’ll go down first,” he says.
“I could use a few minutes.” I rub under my lower lashes where I can feel crusted mascara.
“Take your time.” He circles the bed and walks toward the door.
“Erik?”
Pausing with a hand on the doorknob, he looks over his shoulder at me.
My gaze flicks to the bed and then to his face. “Let’s finish this conversation.”
“Sure.” He pulls the door open and walks out.
The need I have to talk to someone about my future consumes me. I’ve tried with Eden and Tavi, but they don’t really understand. Dance is important to Eden, but it’s not her whole life. Which is sad because she has the means to pursue it. Unlike me.
