He was quiet this morning, distant and hard to read. Like his mind was elsewhere.
He vanished last night. I came back to the table to find him… gone. Liam said there was something that needed his attention, but I saw the look he gave Aidan when they thought I wasn’t looking.
I spent the night in his bed. While I strongly considered camping out on the couch, the room was open to everyone else who lived there, and the privacy of Koen’s room felt just a little bit safer.
I don’t know where he slept. He reappeared early this morning, cooking up a couple of omelettes in silence. Besides the little battle over the Conservatory, he’d hardly said two words to me. Leaving me to be Mac’s problem for the day, he stalked outof the loft. But not before informing me that my heat would be fixed by the time I got home this afternoon.
Whatever warmth had been there yesterday was long gone. That usual cold control was back, and I could feel the wall rising back up between us.
My ankle does feel a lot better today. I’m able to bear weight, and the swelling has gone down significantly. Though, Koen is right, I should probably take another day or two off from dancing, so as to not prolong the healing process.
But this morning was one of the few classes Melanie wasn’t able to find coverage for. It’s a winter break intensive for the girls in the intermediate program who are still in high school. They’re one of my favorite ages to work with. Just serious enough about their craft that I don’t have to redirect their attention every five minutes, and in some of them, you can already see it in their eyes how much they really want this, how far they’re willing to go.
They remind me of myself.
Like me, the group is prepping for the winter showcase, and their routine is looking really, really good.
I’m sitting with my foot propped up on a chair, a full bag of ice wrapped around it, while calling out counts loud enough to be heard over the music. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Good, Vanessa!”
By the end of the fifth run-through I find no reason to push them further, ending the class on a good note a few minutes early.
“They’re really coming along, Briar!”
I look up to see Mia step into the studio. “I came in to get a few hours of practice in, and I was just heading out, but I caught the last run. They look great.” She smiles at me, and I return it. Her frown comes next when her eyes drop to the bag of ice on my ankle.
“What happened?”
I quickly snatch the bag off my ankle and stand. “Ah, just a little sore from yesterday. I may have gone a little overboard trying to get that combination in the second half.”
“That combination is tricky, and from where I was standing, it looked perfect. Mr. Carr was just being an ass.” She gives me a look. “As per usual.”
I give her a shrug because she’s just being nice. “It could have been tighter. A few more hours in the studio, and I’ll get it right.”
“It’s crunch time.” Mia nods with a knowing look in her eye. “We’re all feeling it.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So I was just about to go grab a coffee over at that place on Newbury Street. Do you want to come with?” She gives me an appraising look. “That is—if you can walk?” She eyes my ankle.
“I can walk,” I rush out, a tad defensively, and Mia raises her brows.
“But I… I don’t know if I should,” I mutter, forcing a smile. I’m not supposed to leave the studio. I’m pretty sure Mac’s outside keeping an eye out—or maybe someone else, I’m not sure. I haven’t checked because, ignorance is bliss and all that.
But after nearly a week of constant surveillance, it’s really tempting to sneak out for an hour on my own. It’s just coffee, two blocks over.
And it might be my pent-up frustration at not being able to dance, or how Koen made me stay at his place last night and then disappeared, but I’m tired of being told what to do, where to be, and how to act. He’s not supposed to be back for two more hours. He’s picking me up to go to another club with him. My anxiety over that is probably what pushes me over the edge.
“You know what?” I grin, “Yes. I need a little afternoon pick-me-up. Let me just grab my stuff.”
Mia smiles and starts for the door, and I follow.
“Uhm, let’s go out the back door,” I say as we near the stairs.
Mia arches a brow of curiosity at me but I don’t explain, just turn, trotting down the stairs, then turning away from the front entrance and hoping she’ll follow. Lucky for me, she does, and even luckier, she doesn’t ask any questions.
It’s a quick walk from the Conservatory to Central Perk Coffee, but the cold bites straight through my sweatshirt. I didn’t pack a jacket, and I’m regretting that decision now. A cold front has moved in to the city and shows no sign of moving out.
The wind is the worst part. If it wasn’t for the wind, it might be a nice day. It whips off the river, burning my cheeks until I’m sure they’re a bright pink. I shove my hands into the pocket of my hoodie and pick up the pace, my fingertips already numb.
