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The words echoed in Claire’s mind as the ballerinas tiptoed across the stage, her stomach flipping as she thought of Liam watching her as she’d come down the stairs. She wasn’t so blind as to not have seen his admiring eyes. Of course, she’d nearly melted into a puddle at his feet at the sight of his classic black suit and tie combo. She had known no small amount of pride as she’d walked by his side and more than one lady had turned to admire him.

But still, just because Liam might feel some amount of attraction to her didn’t mean that he was into her. And the same went for her. Just because she thought he was basically the most attractive person she’d ever seen in her life—he rivaled Ross Poldark, for heaven’s sake, and that was saying a lot—didn’t mean that she felt anything for him. It was more than likely just a minute crush.

A crush that made her want the ballet to end so she could speak with him again. A crush that made heat rush through her body at the mere thought of the kiss that could have been. A crush that made her smile more with him than with any other relationship she’d ever been in.

When the first act finally finished, Claire followed Melody to the bathrooms, anxious for a moment’s respite from her thoughts. Even listening to Melody go on and on about how perfect Dean looked was a welcome reprieve.

“I’m just having the best time with him,” Melody said as they walked back to their seats. “I already can’t wait for next year when we can see each other again.”

Claire paused. “How can you even handle that? Being away from him, I mean. Twelve months is a long time.”

But Melody merely shrugged. “It’s not like I won’t have other guys to occupy my time ’til then.” She gave a saucy shrug of her shoulders, then led the way down the aisle toward their row.

Claire frowned, unable to understand Melody’s logic. But then, they were different people. Claire could never understand the point of falling so hard for a person she couldn’t be with—or could only be with for a few days out of the year.

She looked down the row, searching for her seat when she caught Liam’s eyes on her, but he swiftly darted his gaze away.

A crush. It was just a crush. It would fade.

And yet, as she sat down beside Liam, her heart refused to pump properly. So much so that she had to ask herself, was it worth falling for someone, enjoying time with someone, even if it was inevitable that it would end?

“Hey,” Melody said, leaning forward to address them both, “do you guys want to go out for dessert after this?”

Claire hesitated. She’d much rather be alone with Liam. But then, maybe it would be better for them both to be stuck with Melody and Dean.

“Um, sure,” Claire agreed. “We’d love to.”

“Don’t involve me in this,” Liam whispered behind her, and she turned to his smiling eyes.

“If I’m going down, I’m bringing you with me,” she whispered in response.

His lips curved, and Claire looked back to Melody, who’s curious eyes shifted between Liam and Claire.

Claire sobered, looking straight ahead at the red curtains at the side of the stage. There was no way she was going to let Melody think she liked Liam. Claire would never hear the end of it.

“Claire,” Liam said, pulling her attention toward him again. Gosh. How she loved the sound of her name on his lips.

Melody, fortunately, had already turned back to Dean as Liam leaned toward Claire, showing her a message thread on his phone. “From my mum,” he explained.

Claire narrowed her eyes, focusing hard on the words to think past their shoulders that now pressed lightly against each other.

Tasha: Oh my goodness. Did you put the tree up? It’s gorgeous.

Liam: It was Claire’s idea. We can all decorate it tomorrow morning, if you’d like?

Tasha: That would be great. Thank you both so much. It smells amazing. Tell that sweet Claire thank you, as well. Hope you’re all enjoying the ballet. xx

Claire pulled back with a smile, joy swelling in her chest. “Makes carting the tree back worth it, doesn’t it?”

“Speak for yourself,” he said, rolling out his shoulder. “I’ll be sore for days.”

They smiled at each other, his eyes remaining on her as they softened. “Thank you,” he said. “For your suggestion to get the tree for my mum. It was…very sweet.”

His words slipped around her heart, causing it to swell with warmth. Before she could respond, the lights dimmed once again, and the ballet resumed.

If Claire thought the first act had been long, the second was sheer torture. Typically, she enjoyed a good show, but each dance that passed by, she grew more and more anxious. First, she bounced her legs up and down, then she took to tapping her fingers against her lower thigh as if that would speed up the tempo of Tchaikovsky’s music.

Her tapping continued when Liam leaned toward her. “Are you alright?”