“Why don't we take a breather?” Sam asked somewhere in the distance, humor lacing her tone. Clearly, she was entertained by my distraction.
With a curt nod, I got off the torturing device with a big grunt, and with uncertain legs, I walked over to the small studio. As I approached, I heard the heart-wrenching lyrics pour through the speakers, talking about lost love. It must have been a cover as the original song was much faster and sung by a male, but this version was completely breathtaking. Especially paired with Rosalie’s beautiful moves.
I watched in awe as she smoothly made her way to the floor, kicking her leg up high over her head and rolling over before standing and moving into a turn sequence. I didn't watch many dances, but the ones I did watch used different turns. Others kept their legs high, while Rosie kept her non-turning leg low, as if afraid that lifting it higher would hurt her.
My breathing was long forgotten, as she slowly moved her leg higher one turn at a time, but before she passed the fifty-degree mark, the turn stopped, and she swore.
She shook out her leg, her fingers digging into her hip flexor, massaging it with annoyed jerks.
I didn't notice I was moving until I pushed the door open and stared at her. “Are you okay?”
Rosalie’s head snapped towards me, the loose strands of her hair flying as she shook her head. “I'm fine. What are you doing here?”
“I have my class now,” I nodded towards the other room, realizing how foolish it was of me tojust march in here.
Her cheeks turned pink as she averted her gaze and instead moved to disconnect her phone from her sound system.
“You should get back,” she nodded towards the door, dismissing me. “Don't want you to miss out...”
“I just wanted to check in on you.”
As soon as the words left my lips, I cringed. Check in on you sounded like she needed me.
Rosie turned and arched a brow at me. “You did. Now get back to your class.”
I groaned. “It's not how I meant it.”
“I got the memo.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “Tell my brother he can stop blowing up my phone and worrying.”
I flat out laughed, and when her blue eyes met mine, I took a step closer to her. “It's cute. That you think I'm your brother's little errand boy, Thron.”
“Can you stop with the nicknames?” she muttered, walking around me and heading for the door. “My name's Rosalie. Not Rosie, not Thorn, nor anything else you might come up with.”
“You didn't mind that before,” I shrugged, trying to get a read on her face, but failed. Her features were carefully guarded, and she didn't give away a single thought.
“Maybe I was being nice.”
I almost laughed but forced myself to stop. “You don't strike me as someone who would be so fake.”
“You don't know me. You just know a version of me.”
Tilting my head, I watched her exited the room “Which version?”
“One that doesn’t exist anymore,” she said, not even turning back.
“Rosalie,” Sam stopped her with a smile. “I need to get Jerry from daycare. Do you mind finishing with Derek and locking up?”
I would have paid big bucks to see her face, but instead I bitmy cheek to keep from grinning. Rosie turned towards me under the grim light and gave me a very dark look.
“Sure, no problem,” she nodded, her voice calm and even, while her eyes were telling a completely different story.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Sam said, squeezing her shoulder before giving me a quick wave and disappearing from the studio.
“Well, this escalated quickly,” I muttered, stepping up close to her. “Where do you want me, sweetheart?”
“Stop. With. The. Nicknames.”
She was pissed. I've never seen her as pissed as she was at that moment. Rosie was always calm and collected. I didn't recognize this girl, nor the one from the coffee shop. She was right, the version of her that I knew clearly didn't exist anymore, and I had to do my best to get to know her again. If I wanted or could.
