“Ah shit, Bodie.”
She lifted her hand to cut him off. She had to work some spit into her mouth; most of the moisture lurked behind her eyes. Ready to spill as soon as it was safe to do so. “Thank you for the offer, William. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”
“Bodie—”
Her boots clicked quietly over the hardwood floors as she walked away. Every step fractured the temporary structure currently holding her together until it was holding on by threads. She ignored Liam’s quiet calls, knowing he wouldn’t chase after her because he believed she wouldn’t just walk away.
She kissed goodbye to a full stomach, to rent, to a future where she might have stood a chance of living comfortably. Taking the job when her immediate supervisor thought so little of her wouldn’t create a productive or creative atmosphere for dance.
The moment the main doors closed behind her, she locked down every emotion threatening to bring her to her knees. She didn’t cry. Ever. This setback in her life was nothing new and she wasn’t going to let it undermine her control.
*
Two weeks later, she was a wreck.
As her little old-fashioned boombox churned out tunes on the street corner, Bodie let herself dance for all she was worth. Thoughts of Liam were banished so long as the music kept playing. As long as her body and her feet kept her moving, spinning, she could forget the heartbreak, the doom and gloom of her existence, and just live in the music.
Despite the light spattering of rain and the clouds keeping the sun from coming out to play, there was a small gathering of spectators willing to stand and get damp for a few minutes as she moved gracefully to one of the slower songs on her playlist.
The money in her box was pitifully empty, and she knew it was going to be another day where she couldn’t even make twenty bucks. It just gouged another chunk out of her, sent her reeling into the pit of despair she spent so much time in lately.
As the song drew to an end, she was gifted with a smattering of applause before her audience drifted away to warmer, drier places and left her breathing hard, swiping sweat and tears away before anyone noticed it wasn’t just the efforts of her dancing that made her face wet.
Sighing, Bodie peered miserably into the box as a couple of coins thudded in. If she hit the discount section of the grocery store, she might be able to afford something to eat, but the chances of her making rent were pretty much zero. Never mind her utility bills—she already had a warning from the electric company that she was well past due paying her bill.
The rain started to come down heavier and she dropped her face in her hands as people hurried past without stopping, scattering into nearby stores or rushing to get home. She might as well do the same; today was a washout.
As she gathered her things, she sensed a presence behind her and stiffened. Very slowly, she turned, swiping at her hair which was quickly plastering over her head. She shivered as the rain cut through her clothes and met her skin, then her body seemed to spasm in response to the person standing behind her.
Bodie took a quick step back and nearly tripped over her boombox.
The first thing she noticed was the stern face. Beautiful yet frightening. Intimidating. Strong cheekbones with a matching jawline, full lips with no hint of a smile. What looked like a couple nights’ worth of dark stubble concealed a working man’s tan and he had short cropped hair as black as her own, with silver highlights at the temples.
But it was his eyes that mesmerized her.
Gloriously, stunningly blue. The kind of blue she imagined sapphires aspired to become, deep and endless. As she looked into them, she had the vaguest thought that he could see straight into the heart of her, into the depths of her soul. That he could disassemble her and put her back together however he wished.
She found herself swaying toward him in the rain.
Amusement flashed over his strict features before he resumed his sober expression. But he said nothing, just watched her intently as she broke eye contact and summed up the rest of him.
Sweet Jesus, he was tall. She didn’t think of herself as short at five-six, but he was well over the six-feet mark by a good few inches. His broad shoulders and chest looked like they could carry the weight of the world effortlessly; the cut of his expensive black suit only enhanced his form. Wide hips and long, strong legs that filled out his immaculate pants. He wore an overcoat that hit him mid-calf, and a pristine white shirt that was fast getting wet.
His tie matched his eyes.
“You move very well. You’ve studied?”
Holy fuck. It took everything she had not to cross her legs and press her hands to her crotch to stem the sudden ache his voice brought to life. The most unsettling sensation of arousal from zero to sixty with a handful of words.
Who the hell was this guy?
“Ah, self-taught mostly. I did a couple months at college.” She edged away but his eyes pinned hers and her muscles just...ceased to obey her orders. The ache between her thighs intensified; the anxiety in her heart grew to apocalyptic proportions.
The corner of his lush mouth curved up slightly.
Suddenly the rain didn’t matter. She couldn’t feel the cold lash of it pelting her and she paid no mind to the water running off her hair or through her clothes. Nothing mattered but those eyes watching her, assessing her so keenly. Never had she come under such scrutiny from a stranger before.
“Gather your things,” he murmured, “before they’re ruined completely. I’d like it if you’d join me for a coffee or something to eat, little ballerina. If you have the time, of course.”
“I-I-I...” Her tongue and lips went numb with shock, preventing her from forming words or linking together sentences. Embarrassed, she whirled around and grabbed her jacket, throwing it over the boombox and praying it wasn’t already water damaged. She didn’t have the money to buy another.
“Are you cold or nervous?” Stranger asked quietly. He hadn’t made a move to touch her, even step toward her. He just stood still, hands tucked nonchalantly and nonthreateningly in his coat pockets. Just waiting.
Bodie closed her eyes. “I’m neither,” she said snippily as a roll of hunger tumbled through her stomach loudly enough for her new friend to raise an amused eyebrow. Shit, she couldn’t tell him she wasn’t hungry now, could she? “Look, thanks but no thanks.”
He moved forward and scooped up her money box, giving it a little rattle. Shaking his head, he bent to retrieve the lid on her makeshift piggy bank then sealed her money inside before he handed it to her. “Skittish then,” he decided as she all but snatched her precious box to her chest. “That’s okay. I’ll leave you be. Get yourself out of the rain and dried off unless you want a nasty chill, little one.”
She knew how to look after herself, goddamn him. If he wasn’t standing here in his precious overcoat and good shoes, delaying her escape from the street corner, she’d already be halfway home to a bowl of stale cereal and a freezing cold, empty apartment.
“Thank you. Have a good evening.” There, once her tongue worked again, she could be polite and noncombative toward him. She just needed to remember tact, decorum, and manners.
He flashed a white-toothed grin that was so even architects could have used his teeth as a ruler. Inclining his head without saying another word, he strolled away into the rain, whistling lightly between his teeth.