She seems so excited at the prospect that I can’t help smiling. Plus, I really don’t mind if there isn’t any power or hot water, as long as we’re safe and I have somewhere to spend the night.
Angela gives me a quick tour of the place, and though the house is old, it’s neat and clean. It’s also empty and silent and a little sad.
The master bedroom is locked—untouched since the day her parents died—and her sister’s room is pretty bare since she’s staying with a friend. The kitchen has some bread and peanut butter, but not much else, and we scarf down sandwiches in the waning light.
“I’m going to grab a quick shower,” Angela says once we’re done. She rushes into the bathroom, but then she’s out again five minutes later, her hair soaked and her teeth chattering. “Your turn.”
I rush through my dark, ice-cold shower and then snuggle in a pile of blankets Angela set out for me on the living room couch.
“Think you’ll be okay here?” she asks, and I nod gratefully.
Once she leaves me alone, the seconds seem to tick by endlessly. All I can think about are the guys, and those precious moments we shared since the day we met.
Tate, carrying me out of the forest and onto LUV Academy grounds. Taking me to the doctor and not minding that I flooded the apartment. Kissing me in the kitchen and then later, in the rain. Teasing me with his lips and always leaving me wanting more.
Charles, reading that awful book of dark fairy tales, looking all tall and beast-like on the living room couch. Kissing me, setting my body on fire, then pouring brandy on Silas’s head. Taking me to Nigel’s, speaking beautiful fluent French, and then helping me work on my song.
JJ, stumbling into the apartment drunk, then apologizing and helping me find my courage. Letting me kiss him, so I can explore and take control. Teaching me to kick Silas in the balls and then helping me find the process I’d needed to create an amazing competition song.
Tears stream down my face and every thought of Silas fills me with regret. I never should have kissed him, no matter how drawn I’ve felt toward him since day one. Silas has always hated me, and even if he didn’t, nothing is worth losing Tate, Charles, and JJ over.
I can’t imagine living life without them, knowing I’ll never see them again. But the sad part is, I know they don’t feel the same way.
They’re probably hanging out in their warm, brightly-lit apartment on campus, enjoying Chez Caviar or Pizza al Volo or burgers with extra jalapenos. I bet Silas is with them, eating a bit of this and that like some vulture, glad to finally be rid of me. All four of them must be glad I’m finally gone.
I bury my face in my pillow and sob until there aren’t any tears left. Then I try to lose myself in sleep. Maybe, if I can just pretend I’m a hermit princess living out her fairy tale in this dark, cold house, I’ll start to believe that everything will be okay.
I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and try to picture it, but my fairy tales turn out all wrong. I’m Cinderella, no longer a servant, but rejected by Prince Charming nonetheless. I’m Beauty, dancing on my own with no sign of the Beast. I’m Sleeping Beauty, but my Knight in Shining Armor never comes to kiss me awake. I’m the Little Mermaid, and I find my voice but lose my prince.
Chapter 29
I must doze off at some point, because I find myself lost in the most wonderful dream. I’m back at Bailando and all four of my princes are there, walking out on stage to perform their competition song.
Unlike at rehearsal, their rendition is absolutely perfect, their voices melding beautifully as they hit every note. Charles, with his deep and sexy beast-like voice, chants an underlying beat. Tate and Silas sing the opening notes, intentionally a fraction of a second off so that they create a magical echo worthy of a fairy tale.
All I ever wanted
Was an honest love
Didn’t think I’d get
What I was dreaming of
My lyrics sound absolutely perfect on their lips, the song exactly as I’d intended.
Then JJ swoops in, raising his voice like a mighty eagle soaring over the castle gates. He provides a bird’s eye view of the princess and her men, and I’m so enraptured I forget to breathe.
Their rendition of my song stirs my heart like nothing else. It’s pure fairy tale magic and undeniable perfection all mixed into one. Even Silas has somehow found his voice and that passion he was so sorely lacking. And together, the four of them bring the words—my words—to beautiful, majestic life.
“Roonie,” Angela, who’s wearing her dancer’s outfit from earlier, leans over and starts shaking my shoulder.
“Shh!” I hiss back, unable to tear my eyes away from the guys. The spotlight hits them just right, accentuating broad shoulders, muscular arms, and angular jaws. On stage, the guys look larger than life, and it’s all I can do not to race up there to join them.
“Roonie,” Angela snaps, shaking me harder. “Wake up.”
I scramble to a sitting position and find myself on her living room couch, Bailando a distant memory. It’s still dark out, casting Angela’s face in shadows, while the guys' beautiful voices continue to echo from outside.
They’re outside!
I jump to my feet and race to the front living room window. I almost expect to find I’m still dreaming, but all four of my princes are out there, and as real as can be.
They’ve arranged themselves on the front lawn like it’s their personal stage, and they’re pouring their hearts and souls into their rendition of my competition song. Every note, every word, and every step of my choreography is executed with perfection. How long did they rehearse to get it all just right?
But it’s not just how well they perform, it’s the emotion they pour into their performance. They sing like their entire lives depend on it. Like this is the competition, and they’re here to win it.
Line after beautiful line of song rings out across the lawn. Lights go on in nearby houses as the guys sweep through the chorus, but they keep on singing. They hold those final notes, letting them resonates through the night, broken only by a lone barking dog. And then, the front yard is engulfed in silence.
The guys fall to their knees in front of the living room window—in front of me—while I stand there, staring at them, wide-eyed.
I can’t quite figure out what they’re doing here, or how they found me, or if any of this is real. Maybe I’m still dreaming, and I’ll wake up passed out at Father’s feet, my bones broken and my face bleeding. That’s much more likely than the guys coming here for me, when I know they hate me. All four of them should hate me, not kneeling before me after serenading me like in a scene out of a fairy tale dream.
“Aren’t you going to go out there?” Angela asks, and I realize that I’ve been standing and gaping at the guys, while they’ve been kneeling out there and waiting, for far too long.
With a nod, I race toward the front door and out onto the lawn.
“What are you doing here?” I cry, my eyes sweeping from Tate, to Charles, to JJ, before darting briefly to Silas. Even that split-second glance at the Dark Prince fills me with guilt and I quickly look away.
“We came for you,” JJ says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He gets to his feet and comes to my side, taking my hand in his. “We didn’t mean to scare you earlier, Roonie. We’re really, really sorry.”