“No. No that’s about right. I just… why?”
A slight shrug ripples through his shoulders. “Because it matters to you.”
All the breath leaves my lungs. This sweet man coordinated the beginning of a new venture for me in my chosen industry. He believes in me enough that he’s allowing me to use his own business to front mine.
Turning to the ladies who are waiting patiently, I ask, “Can you guys give me just one second?” and then I drag Paul off to the side, out of earshot.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” he begins before I have time to say a word. “Lauren and Nicole assured me you would love it. I never thought—”
I cut him off by pressing my lips to his, trying to convey how grateful I am. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s happening and then he’s kissing me back. But I’m determined to talk this through. We haven’t done enough of that lately.
Allowing myself to fall back down on my heels, I keep my arms around his neck. “I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. I was just too scared to let you in. I’d like to say things would be different if I didn’t have Carson, but I’m not sure. I think I’m a little gun-shy still.”
“Justifiably.”
“No. No I don’t think so. The part of this whole story that I seem to have forgotten is that Spence was the life of the party. Always. He loved attention. He loved walking into a room and being greeted with slaps on the back and being handed a beer.”
“Sounds like a douchebag,” Paul says dryly.
“It depends on whose opinion you’re getting,” I say with a laugh. “But the key should have been how he loved attention but kept me secret. Do you know he told me he didn’t have any social media? That’s why he never posted any pictures of us.”
Paul’s brows furrow. “Is that weird? I don’t have social media.”
“It’s not weird for you, because you’re a private person by nature. It was weird for him because he was a social butterfly. I found out later he did have social media. But if he’d shared that little tidbit with me, I would have figured out his game long before I did.”
Paul closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. I know he’s trying to calm himself down from thinking about all the ways Spence treated me like trash.
“Hey.” I nudge him. “My point isn’t to make you angry about Spence’s behavior. My point is I screwed up. I should have recognized you wanting to keep our relationship quiet was because you treasured it, not because you were playing me. Instead, I jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry for that.”
Paul rests his forehead against mine and breathes me in. “Say it again.”
“What?”
“That you love me. Say it again.”
The smile comes before the words do. “I love you. So much. And I’m excited to see where we go from here.”
The sigh that comes from him is one of true contentment. I know, because I feel the exact same way. But we can’t stay like this forever.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have paying clients who came for some dance lessons.”
He kisses me on the tip of my nose. “Knock ‘em dead.”
Turning back towards the group I fly by the seat of my pants and get this class started.
“Okay ladies, since I didn’t have a lot of time to plan, what do you say we work on some line dances today?”
The response I get is overwhelmingly pleased and I can’t help how big the smile on my face is. I love dance. I love teaching dance. And I love the man that gave it all back to me.
Spence, who?
TWENTY-SEVEN
Paul
6 months later
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
Nicole looks around the small room, hands shoved in her back pockets, before looking back at me. “I promise I’ll be fine, Paul. It’s exactly the right size for just me and fits right in my budget.”
I chuckle at her joke. “Yeah, that zero on the rent line of your budget looked pretty good.”
“And really,” she continues, “I have the best landlord. He’ll be here every day. I’m sure if there are any maintenance problems, he’ll take care of them.”
I roll my eyes at her continued use of the word “he” when I’m standing right here.
Over the last few months, I’ve gotten to know Nicole pretty well. Physically, she’s all healed up and you would never know by looking at her that she had such a significant trauma at the hands of someone she loved. Emotionally, that’s a different story. She still struggles with nightmares and is nervous around new people, especially men, but she’s also determined to push through it all and get her life back.
Step one: move into her own place. And since my old place is vacant as of yesterday, it seems like a great option for her.
Handing her the key to my old apartment, I take a second to confirm one last time. “Are you sure? It’s not too late to move in with us.”
“And share a room with my nephew? No thank you.” She snatches the key out of my hand. “Now if you’ll please go to work, I have some boxes to unpack.” She pushes me toward the door, and I let her. If I dug my heels in, there’s no way all five-foot four-inches of her could move me.
“Okay,” I say over my shoulder as I go through the doorway into the hall. “But if you need anything we’re just in the front and don’t forget to set the alarm—”
The door slams in my face, effectively cutting off the conversation.
“I don’t hear any beeps!” I yell, eliciting what sounds like a muffled, “Oh for shit’s sake.” But then I hear the alarm set so I leave her alone.
The closer I get to the front, the louder it gets. It’s a packed house tonight already. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s a packed house pretty much all the time now. Word of mouth meant all the professional sports teams in the area started coming here and while their seasons overlap a bit, their off seasons don’t, thank goodness. We’d probably be over capacity otherwise.
“Who do we have here tonight?” I ask Kiersten as I climb under the counter and head to the back of the bar to help her.
She gestures to a row of tables that have all been pushed together. “The Steer and some of the Slingers showed up about ten minutes ago. Tammy’s getting orders, I’m just prepping.” She starts tossing ice inside the metal buckets for bottles to go in as needed. “How’s Nicole doing back there anyway?”
I snort a laugh as I begin shoving beer bottles in the buckets she already filled. Worst case, we can store them in the cooler for a while. “She kicked me out.”
“Good. I’ve been telling you for months that you’re too overbearing with her.”
“Kiersten.”
“Paul,” she says mocking my stern tone.
“She went through a terrible trauma.”
“And she’s doing well.” Kiersten stands up straight so we can see eye to eye. “I know you’re nervous about her living on her own.”
I grunt and cross my arms. Nervous is an understatement. I don’t like the situation at all.
“But even her therapist says this is good for her. And she’s right here on the property. She won’t even technically be alone overnight except for a few hours. And you upgraded the security system. She’s fine. Let her have her independence back.”