CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
IGGY
I feltlike I was floating. Like a balloon filled to the brim with helium, and Bodhi was the string tethering me to earth. It was like the best kind of high, but without the comedown and withdrawals that always followed.
I couldn’t believe I’d just danced. I’d performed on a stage for the first time since my injury four years ago. Since a stupid mistake ended my career in a split second and my dream went up in flames.
And it was all because of Bodhi.
The seats had been empty, except for one in the middle of the front row. But it didn’t matter. Not really. The weight of his attention was enough to fill the room. His awe as I performed move after move. Apirouette en dehorsinto agrand jeté.Chaînéturns into a suddenpas de bourréeandcabriole. Anarabesque. Amanège.
For a moment, it felt like I’d never left the Royal.
At least until I attempted adouble tour en l’airand landed wrong. Until the shooting pain in my hip sent me to my knees, reminding me that I was no longer a professional. Before, that kind of reminder would’ve sent me spiralling. Would’ve ignitedthe need for something toxic, something that could dull the pain and leave only numbness behind. But now...
Now I just felt happy.
The kind of happy you feel when you look at an old photograph. When the memory is soft around the edges, warm instead of sharp. Satisfied that I’d given it my all, even if I’d only been dancing for one person. Proud of what I could still do, even if it wasn’t perfect anymore.
It didn’t matter that it wasn’t perfect, because Bodhi still thought I looked beautiful.
And that meant everything to me.
After a quick pit stop for some gelato, we returned to the hotel. I was tucked into Bodhi’s side, already planning to follow him to his room, when we bumped into Clara at the lifts.
“Hey, you two,” she greeted pleasantly. “What have you been up to?”
We shifted awkwardly, trying to put space between us without making it obvious. I didn’t know why we bothered. It wasn’t hard to miss the way I’d been staring at Bodhi like he’d hung the moon as we walked in, or his arm wrapped tightly around my waist in a way that wasn’t exactly platonic.
My face was free of makeup after washing away what little remained in the fancy bathrooms at the theatre. But our outfits gave us away anyway. We’d clearly been somewhere fancy. Somewhere that might’ve counted as a date.
“Uh...” I tucked some hair behind my ear, unable to meet her gaze. “Bodhi took me to the ballet.”
“Then we had gelato,” he added.
Her eyes narrowed a fraction, like she was reading between lines we were desperately trying to keep hidden. At least for now. Then she nodded once. “Huh. Sounds fun.”
The lift doors slid open, and the three of us stepped inside. Aheavy, awkward silence filled the space. Bodhi on one side of the car. Me on the other. Clara planted squarely between us. It took everything in me not to look over her head at him, not to check if he was panicking the way I was.
When the lift spat us out on the third floor, I practically leapt through the doors, Bodhi close behind. Our rooms were to the left. Clara’s was on the right. We said our goodbyes quickly and turned to leave.
But Clara stopped us before we could get far.
“I won’t say anything about this. For now.”
I glanced over my shoulder, almost relieved to see her smirking. Then it faded, and she lifted her chin, slipping back into her role as Noctis’s manager.
“As long as it doesn’t affect the tour.”
The warning sat heavy in the air.
As long as neither of us did anything that could risk Bodhi’s sobriety. As long as nothing threatened the tour their label had spent an obscene amount of money on.
Little did she know, I had my own sobriety to worry about. So there was no doubt we’d be careful. No doubt we’d avoid doing anything that could hurt either of us.
Secret sort-of-but-also-not-really relationship or not.
