It’s not just dancing. It’s never been just about dancing.
I ran away from the truth then, and I’m still running from it now, but it’s caught up with me in the most painful and colossal way. There’s no more denying it. Lance Prescott is the love of my life, and I didn’t need him to remind me, I was all too aware, but now, now I’ve twisted our separation reasons into a distorted version of the truth. I lived it for two years—lying—lying to myself, lying to him.
Pulling up my phone, I scroll through his feed, searching for anything new. He’d obliterated his opponent in his last fight. Tony’s been quiet with him on social, only showcasing a few of his workouts. I’m sure he’s prepping for his premiere heavyweight fight taking place in only two weeks. A fight I would trade everything to see. A fight I deserve to attend. Search empty, I unwrap my scarf as the bartender approaches.
“What are you having?”
“Grey Goose martini, one olive.”
“Sure.”
I thumb my necklace, a new habit as I stare at my phone, willing it to come to life with a message, a single word, but I know it’s a foolish hope.
I can’t blame him. He thinks I’ve been too quick to dismiss a future for us, again. I sip my fresh martini dreading the showcase in the days ahead. Even dancing has lost some of its joy.
“Harper? Harper Elliot?”
I turn to see the man calling my name from the opposite side of the bar.
“Troy?”
“I thought that was you, hey there,” he says, picking up his beer and heading my way. Troy was my first real college crush, one I kept from a distance until an insanely handsome cornerback came crashing in and stole every bit of his thunder. Our friendship formed when I was with Lance, and he’d revealed to me Troy was covering for us. I hadn’t realized how vital said friendship would be until the day he saved me. But along with all things I left in Texas, our budding friendship was cut short when the truth came out, dividing me from my life there. Troy takes the stool next to me and leans in with a light hug in greeting.
“How are you?”
“Good,” I say, nostalgic tears threatening. I haven’t been back to College Station since I left. Not even when my sister begged me when things got worse. But Troy’s presence now reminds me of the ever-present sun I miss with his bleached hair and year-round tan. He represents home so well that I have to turn away from him briefly to gather myself.
“Harper, not to be an asshole, but you’re on the verge of tears, and all I said was hello.”
“It’s nothing,” I sniff, cursing my inability to get my emotions in check. “Just memories. You look good,” I say, trying to change the subject. “I was so happy for you when you got drafted, and I wanted to reach out, but I didn’t know if it would be weird.”
He frowns. “Why would it be weird?”
“Because I’m your ex-roommate’s ex-girlfriend.”
“We were, are friends, hence why I’m sitting with you and not on the other side of the bar.”
“You know what I mean.”
He sips his beer. “Aren’t you the girl who taught my son to dance?”
“Yes.”
“And, were you or were you not, the girl that talked me into trying cannoli?”
“That was me.”
“Yeah, well, thanks a lot. Does my ass look fat in these jeans?”
We share a laugh, and I’m thankful for his attempt to lighten my mood.
“So,” I take a sip of my drink, “where are you off to?”
“On my way to Canada. I’ve got an endorsement deal.”
“I’m on the same flight.”
“No shit? Cool. We can sit together.” Troy is an absolute God, even with my heart tied up in one man, I can’t help but notice the chisel of his features, the light ocean in his eyes. He’s both beauty and charisma through and through and the opposite of me in so many ways. It’s what attracted me to him way back when I still had a heart to offer.
“Aren’t you flying first class?”
“Nope. My wife is an asshole.”
This makes me full-on belly laugh.
“And why is that?”
“She said for every kid I knock her up with, I owe her a million for her trouble and a million in savings. She’s a cheap millionaire.”
“How many are you up to?”
“She’s a few months along with our fourth. I’m hoping for another boy.”
“Damn, you wasted no time.”
“Exactly. Needless to say, she’s pissed.”
“But, you’re happy.”
“Hell yeah. But going broke fast,” he nods at the bartender for a fresh beer.
“Ah, you’ll be playing for a long time.” It’s the truth. When the Giants picked him up, I still remember the scene I made in the bar in New York. Unlike Lance, Troy was a shoo-in during draft time. Despite their losing season, Troy never dropped the ball and carried it a record number of yards earning him enough points to set a Grand record for the whole of his career there. Those points weren’t enough to get him a bowl game, but it was enough to get him an invitation to camp and eventually snatch a lucrative contract that had the whole of TGU alumni in hysterics. I’ll never forget the feeling of pride I felt for him that day. Or the six martinis I had after picturing the devastation on his roommate’s face, who suffered the opposite fate. With the Giants, Troy landed himself in the playoffs this year, only losing by one point to get to the championship. He’s already a star in his second year and making waves.
“So, what are you doing in Canada?”
“Dancing. I’m with a show called Retro. It was a short run, but The New York Times did a piece on it, and they invited us to Calgary for an encore performance.”
“That’s awesome. Have you been to Texas lately?”
I shake my head. “Not in a couple of years, no.”
“You should go. Nothing like a visit home to shake the dust off.”
“Yeah, someday.”
“The sooner, the better.” He drags out the word until I’m facing him.
“Have you talked to him?”
“Yeah. Things are rough at home with his dad. If you want honesty, he’s a fucking wreck. But it’s fuel for a guy like him. He’ll come out of it fighting.”
“Are you going to see him in Vegas?”
“Yeah. I’ll be ringside. You should join me.”
“I wish I could.”
“Where will you be?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t have any commitments past this show.”
“I know someone who could use you.” He winces. “That came out wrong.”
“I could use him too,” I say, taking a gulp of my martini as a tear escapes down my cheek.
“It’s not my business.” He sips his beer, picking up my napkin and dotting my face before I have a chance to wipe it away. “But you know what? I do want to know. It was so damned obvious you two were happy together.”
“We were. So happy. Did he tell you he was here?”
“Yeah. That’s why I brought him up; otherwise, I would give you the ex-respect.”