I was trying so hard to do my best for Benji, but I was never sure I was succeeding. He didn’t deserve for me to be late.
By the time I got to the top of the stairs that led up to the studio with its wide view of the beach, I was out of breath as well as late and filthy. I pushed the door open with an involuntary grunt of effort, heart dropping to somewhere around my stomach inanticipation of seeing Benji’s little eyes light up when he saw me. It wasn’t the lighting up I minded, but the fact that it clearly came as such a relief.
He’d been left at school for hours without being picked up when his mom died without anyone to realize he was all alone. I didn’t want him to ever feel that way again—but I couldn’t seem to pick him up on time, either.
“Sorry I’m late, kidd?—”
I cut myself off as I took in the scene in the studio.
Benji wasn’t alone. Nor was he sitting with Amelia. No, that would have beenwaytoo easy.
Mr. Blue Eyes was sitting next to him on the long bench that spanned the wall opposite the mirrors. Benji was beaming up at him, kicking his feet, huge grin on his face.
Mr. Blue Eyes looked over at the door. The broad smile on his face faltered as he saw me.
I wasn’t nearly as cute as Benji, so I couldn’t exactly blame him.
“Hi,” I said, looking between this morning’s disaster and Benji.
Mr. Blue Eyes tilted his head. It was less like a confused dog, and more like one of the big black crows we got around here that I always thought were silently judging me.
“Hello,” he said.
“Coop!” Benji called out, racing over to me. He flung his little arms around my legs like always, as though I hadn’t let him downagain. That might’ve been thanks to his new friend.
His new friend who was standing up and approaching. I hadn’t noticed this morning, but as he took the first step, he faltered and winced. Had I hurt him?
“I’m so sorry, I was?—”
Mr. Blue Eyes held a hand up to stop me, eyeing my chest. Right. Where I was still wearing the coffee stain from earlier on my overalls.
“I’d say we’re even, but I’ve made my first friend here, so I still owe you one,” Mr. Blue Eyes said.
Benji beamed up at me when I looked down at him. “This is Felix,” he enthused, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “He’s a real ballet dancer.”
Well. Given the context, that made a lot of sense. I looked at him again, gaze sweeping from sculpted calves up strong thighs, all on display in the workout tights he was wearing. He must’ve had an ass you could bounce a penny off.
I should not have been thinking that.
Was he familiar? Now that I was really paying attention, I got the feeling I’d seen him before. Although—and I knew better than to tell anyone this—I had trouble telling ballet dancers apart. I’d never been great with faces.
I turned my attention back to his face and found those blue, blue eyes looking at me just as intently as I must’ve been looking at him. They flicked down from the stain on my chest to somewhere below my waist—Benji’s head, maybe—and back up again.
The prettiest bubblegum-pink tongue darted out between bow-shaped lips, the blue of his eyes hidden under long, dark lashes for a spilt second before he focused on my face again.
Was he…
No, there was no wayhewas checkingmeout. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. I was… me.
“Uh, Cooper. Cooper Richards,” I said, offering my hand.
Felix glanced at it. So did I.
Right. It was covered in motor oil and grit and who knew what else. I wiped it on my overalls. If anything, that made matters worse.
Felix was spotlessly clean from head to toe. Not a single stray speck of dust on him.
I took my hand away, wiping it self-consciously again. I didn’t blame him for not wanting to shake it.
