FELIX
Not that Inormally had a problem with crowds, but stepping out of the ice cream parlor and into the cooling night air was a relief. Less than two weeks of small-town living and I’d forgotten how to handle being among more than a handful of people at once, apparently.
“There’s a nice walk along the shore here, if you’re game,” Cooper said, gesturing vaguely ahead. He hadn’t taken my hand again—probably because he needed both for what I was fairly sure was an entire pint of ice cream piled on top of our cones.
I missed the touch.
“I’ll trust you,” I said, falling into step beside him as we walked. My thigh twinged, but it wasn’t too bad yet. I’d gone a little hard on myself earlier today, working on the choreography for the competition again, and I was paying for it.
Nothing I wasn’t used to. Performance had always equaled pain.
It was just more pain for less work now. And it never went away. That was all.
“What’s it like?” Cooper asked as we walked away from the glow of the ice cream parlor and along the darkened boardwalk. I’d never seen an honest-to-God boardwalk before. Otter Bay was full of surprises.
“Don’t know yet,” I said, looking at my ice cream—well, sorbet, but I wasn’t clear on the difference. I’d gone with Seth’s recommendation, because… “This is the first ice cream I’ve had since I was twelve.”
I didn’t have to look at Cooper to feel him staring at me.
“Mom took me out to celebrate when I got the scholarship to the performing arts school in New York,” I continued. “And told me I ought to enjoy it, because I wouldn’t get to have it again until I retired. Guess she was right.”
“Wow,” Cooper said. It was the samewowas when I’d told him about Piotr. Disbelieving. A little offended on, I assumed, my behalf.
“She wanted me to succeed.” I shrugged.
“You did.”
This time, I did look at Cooper. In the dark, I couldn’t make out much of his expression, but the soft way he spoke was enough to make something tender and fragile shift under my ribs.
“You did,” he repeated. “You heard Seth, if Benji’s enthusiasm isn’t good enough for you. There must be hundreds,thousandsof people out there like him. People who remember seeing you on stage just once as one of the highlights of their life. If that’s not success…”
I licked my ice cream. The citrus was tart enough to make my jaw tighten, but then it mellowed out into sweetness as it coated mypalate, with a warm tingle from the chili playing off against the numbing sensation of the cold.
I began to understand the crowd.
Cooper was still waiting for me to say something.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The truth was, I didn’t know what I could possibly say to that.
Objectively, Cooper was right. I’d been one of the principle dancers of a major company for years. Lots of people got through a whole ballet career without that ever happening for them.
The hard work had paid off.
It was just…
We’d stepped onto the sand now, and as I put my foot down, it shifted under it and sent a spike of pain from my thigh to my hip. I stumbled on the next step, fear rising in the pit of my stomach as I anticipated a fall.
Cooper caught me. Again.
This time, it was by the elbow. Slightly less humiliating, but just as steady.
“Okay?” he asked, keeping his grip on my arm.
I let out another harsh breath. “Fine. I should be using a cane,” I said, repeating what my doctor had told me. Better to have the support than hurt myself. “But…”
“But that makes it real,” Cooper said.
That took me by surprise. I hadn’t eventhoughtit in those terms, but as soon as Cooper said it, I knew he was right.
