“You’re here.”
“Of course I’m here.” She smiles, and my heart beats out of time again. Fuck. Our fingers weave together all by themselves.
“How much does it suck?” She’s sizing me up. I can’t look her in the eye; otherwise, I’ll end up saying things I shouldn’t. If I tear down all the walls I’ve built around my heart to reach her right now, I’ll fall apart.
So I shrug. My eyes wander automatically to my parents, who are talking to some people whom I don’t know but are probably terribly important. Then my gaze shifts to the empty dance floor. I know Mom and Dad will have a big plan to kick off the dancing later this evening. Yes, it’s kind of childish and a little mean, but I want to ruin the moment for them.
“Dance with me,” I beg her, even though it’s a totally stupid idea. But I’m not sober, and I’m not here to make sensible decisions.
“Okay,” she says without hesitation, even though there’s no one else on the dance floor and the music is playing softly and unobtrusively in the background. She pulls me toward the dance floor, and suddenly I have a problem. What I feel for her now is more than I’ve ever felt for anyone else.
I want her to be mine. Not just in the theater. Not just in the studio. Always. Everywhere.
Chapter 38
Zoe
All last year, I tried not to think about you. But to be honest, I failed utterly.
—Zoe
Jase is drunk. At first I wasn’t sure because he had himself completely under control, but he is. I can tell by the way his eyes are gleaming. He’s still angry, still hurt, still filled with pain. Feelings like that don’t disappear from one day to the next. Not even because of sex.
That’s the reason we’re on this dance floor, all by ourselves. Because of his feelings. Because he doesn’t have them under control. Not yesterday, and not now.
“Are you ready?” he whispers. His gaze burns into mine, and even though I know he doesn’t want to be here, a little smile sneaks across my face.
“Always.”
He returns my smile for a split second, and then he starts moving with me in his arms. Despite the alcohol, Jase’s steps are sure and smooth. He can dance. Of course he can, but this is something different. Most ballet dancers can manage a waltz, but we struggle with the other ballroom dances, especially the Latin ones.
It’s totally different from ballet. A different tempo, a different kind of control, different steps. I have no idea exactly what kind of dance we’re doing here, but in the end, it doesn’t matter. Jase leads, and I let him, with every step, every turn, and every arch of my back.
“Where did you learn this?” I whisper as he pulls me up out of a bend, so close that our chests touch for a moment.
“My dad showed us,” he replies curtly.
I don’t press him for more information. He doesn’t give me the impression that he would want to answer any of the questions running through my mind.
“Right now, he’s probably wishing he hadn’t.”
I have his father directly in my line of sight, and he doesn’t look happy. His features are schooled into an expressionless mask. He’s staring at us along with everyone else. I’m trying not to think about it. Jase whirls me around, my dress flares around my legs, and I lose sight of Rufus Winslow.
“I guess he’s wishing he hadn’t asked me to come.”
“Why did you come if you really didn’t want to?” I tip my head back and look up at him. He lowers his eyes, and at that moment, we’re completely alone. The pain in his gaze hits me straight in the heart. But there’s something else there. Smoldering anger and even hatred. “My brother died exactly five years ago today. And my parents are having a fucking party.”
The world stops and goes silent as everything finally makes sense. Every single note he ever wrote to me.
Sam was his brother. And he died.
I want to get him off the dance floor, talk to him, say something that will fix what happened. But there’s nothing I can do. There areno words that will help. Jase doesn’t stop for a second. He keeps dancing, and I follow him because it’s the only thing I can do for him right now.
“Jase—”
“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t say anything. Please.” He looks at me imploringly. “I can’t talk about it now. If I start, then...” He shakes his head, and I understand.
“Okay,” I whisper, letting him guide me into the next spin, spotting my parents before he pulls me toward him with a flourish. Even though they aren’t particularly close with Jase’s parents, the guest list was apparently big enough for them to score an invite.
