Mercy clears her throat softly, giving us all permission to move on. “Well,” she says, “for what it’s worth, Bones, I’m forever grateful to you for saving this guy.”
Bones gives her a nod just as Kya appears at our table with a tray of drinks, immediately lightening the mood.
“Refills, courtesy of the lunch special promotion I just made up.” She sets down fresh glasses and slides into the booth next to Mercy, forcing her to scoot over. “Also, I’m hiding from Lee. He’s trying to make me help him reorganize the storage room and I’m not emotionally prepared for that level of chaos.”
“You own the bar,” Cash points out. “You’re supposed to deal with your storage.”
“I own the bar, which means I delegate. And I’m delegating storage to literally anyone else.” Kya steals one of my fries. “How’s the teaching gig going, Em?”
Good. We were actually just talking about how fun it was.” I lean back against Bones’s arm. “The kids at the community center are sweet. A little chaotic, but sweet.”
“Any of them have actual talent?”
“A few. There’s this one girl who’s nine and has incredible natural flexibility. If she sticks with it, she could be really good.”
“You gonna try to get her into one of those fancy academies?” Mercy asks.
The question makes my chest tighten slightly, but I push through it.
“Maybe. If that’s what she wants. But I’m also trying to teach them that dance doesn’t have to be about going professional. It can just be . . . something you love.”
The words come out before I realize what I’m saying. What I’m admitting.
I’m teaching them what no one ever taught me. That you don’t have to sacrifice everything—your body, your sanity, your relationships—to be worthy of doing what you love. That sometimes the cage you build to protect your dream becomes the thing that destroys it.
Bones’s hand brushes my shoulder lightly, a silent show of support. And I wonder if he knows. If he can see that I’m not just teaching those kids about dance.
I’m teaching myself how to let go.
“That’s actually really healthy,” Kya says, surprising me. “Most people just get obsessed with winning. Like, if you’re not the best, what’s the point?” She tips her glass at me. “But if you can make it fun for them just to show up, that’s winning in my opinion.”
“Speaking of winning,” Mercy says, leaning forward with a secret smile. “How are things with Stone? Lee was saying you two had dinner last week?”
I groan. “We did. It was . . . fine. Awkward, but fine.”
“Awkward how?” Cash asks.
“Just—” I gesture vaguely. “He’s trying. I’m trying. We’re both trying really hard to have normal conversations and it’s like we’ve forgotten how to talk to each other without arguing. We kind of have to learn how to be around each other again.”
“That’ll pass,” Kya says with confidence. “Stone’s not great at emotions, but he cares. He’s just shit at showing it. I like to think of him as a really aggressive teddy bear—looks scary, will definitely hurt you if necessary, but deep down he just wants everyone he loves to be safe and happy.”
“That’s . . . actually kind of accurate,” I admit.
Lee appears then, sweaty and irritated, carrying a box of liquor bottles. “Found your missing inventory,” he says to Kya. “It was behind the water heater. Why the fuck was it behind the water heater?”
Kya raises her hand with a regal little wave. “That was my fault. I was hiding it from Cash because he gets grabby with the good stuff when he’s buzzed and I was trying to save it for a club event.”
“Not my fault you order cheaper shit for house drinks. You want premium bourbon not to be ‘grabby,’ don’t put it within arm’s reach behind the bar,” Cash says, not missing a beat.
Lee rolls his eyes, shoves the box onto a chair, and slides in next to me. “You still pissed at me?”
I blink. “Was I pissed at you?”
“You’ve barely spoken to me since you got back. Figured you were mad I was with Dad that morning. It wasn’t me who told him. In fact, I was trying to keep him away.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t even thought about that. “No, I’m not mad. You were just being a good brother. I never even considered that you were there to back him up. I saw you as the peacekeeper.”
“Good.” He nods, satisfied, then reaches around me and claps Bones on the shoulder. “You coming to the fight night thing next week? Tank’s organizing it.”
