Marcus sighed again. “Tall, handsome,anda sweetheart,” he said. “When will my prince come?”
I chuckled again. “Well, mine spilled hot coffee on me, so you never know.”
“Thereisa coffee cart outside,” Marcus said, looking over at the door. “Not a lot of eligible bachelors here, though.”
“Can’t help you there. Might have better luck stopping off on the way home? You never know who you meet drinking gas station coffee.”
Marcus snorted. “You’re cute,” he said, putting a hand on my arm. “He’s lucky to have you, too, you know. It’s a rough world. Nice to have a soft landing.”
A soft landing.
I liked the idea of being that for Felix.
“Thanks,” I said. “I hope he thinks that.”
“Well, if he doesn’t, come get my number before you leave.” Marcus grinned. “I could rock your world.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, beaming back at Marcus as he stepped away. I watched him head for the other end of the studio, exchanging a last wave before turning my attention back to Felix and the kids.
Just as the bell sounded to start the competition.
21
FELIX
“How’re you feeling?”Cooper asked as he fell in beside me. Our kids were lined up beside the stage with all the others, numbers pinned to their little leotards. They were conferring amongst themselves, ignoring everything else going on.
They didn’t seem nervous at all. I assumed that was because they’d found a way to psychically transfer all of it to me.
“I want to throw up,” I admitted. “But I want the kids to see that I’m here for them.”
What I really wanted was for Cooper to pull me into his arms and promise me it was all going to be okay.
He didn’t.
I didn’t ask, either.
I’d seen him talking to another dancer. Younger than me. Pretty.
Not walking away with a limp.
They’d clearly been hitting it off. Cooper was the kind of man who made friends wherever he went, but…
It wasn’t that I thought he’d hurt me, or… cheat on me, if that was even possible. What were we?
Two people who’d had sex twice—well, three times, but only on two occasions—been on one kind-of date, and were probably friends? He was my friend. He treated me like I was his. Probably friends.
Anyway, it wasn’t as though we weretogether. That’d never been part of the plan. I’d be moving on eventually, I’d always known that. He’d always known it, too.
He wasn’t doing anything wrong by flirting with someone else. I didn’t have any claim on him.
Of course he’d want someone perfect. Someone who could still go through the basic positions without wincing, without worrying they were going to collapse under their own weight.
I’d watched the other man warming up with his group. He moved like I used to, perfect form and control. I didn’t recognize his face, but I was willing to bet I would, in a few years. If I kept up with ballet.
I couldn’t imagine not keeping up with ballet. I couldn’t walk—or even limp—away from it.
“—anything?”
