“I think I need a break,” she said. “Are you hungry?”
He leaned back on his feet and looked at her. For a long moment, it was almost like he was trying to decide if he wanted to let her in on a secret.
“It’s really not a hard question,” she said.
He stood. “I could eat.”
“Okay,” she said. And that’s when it dawned on her that she’d inadvertently asked him out. Not really, but she felt every bit as self-conscious about it as she would if this were a date. Especially since she’d never been on a real date.
“I’ll drive.” He tossed her a look that almost translated as amusement.
Almost.
She grabbed her purse from her car, trying to slow her pulse. The fact was, she’d never been alone with a man, not socially anyway. And not a man who turned her insides out the way Cole did.
It stung a little that he didn’t remember her, even after learning she’d known Jules for years, but she couldn’t blame him. They’d only met a couple times, and though she thought they’d shared a moment, it was quite possible she’d worked it up to be a lot more than it was.
She had an overactive imagination, after all.
The fact was, she’d built an entire daydream around that one encounter, and though it had been a long time since she’d let that dream go, it still kind of disappointed her that reality was so different than her fantasy.
Cole was not the man of her dreams after all.
12
Charlotte pulled herself into the cab of the truck, surprised that it was so clean, but then, the exterior should’ve been a dead giveaway of that. Where this vehicle was concerned, Cole was meticulous.
They drove toward downtown in complete silence, and while he seemed perfectly comfortable with that, her mind wouldn’t stop racing for something—anything—to say.
“I met you when we were kids,” she blurted, instantly wishing she could retract her statement.
He peered over at her, then back to the road. “You did?”
She watched the houses pass by out the passenger side window. “Yeah, I was about fourteen. You came to talk to Jules.”
A stoplight gave him the opportunity to look at her, and she willed it to turn green—and fast. Apparently, her will was not strong enough because this was the longest red light ever. “That was you?”
It was as if he’d just remembered that night.
Julianna and Charlotte were about halfway through their third summer at the ballet intensive, and Charlotte wasn’t sure how many more they would have. She danced professionally most of the year, and she knew it might not be long before Marcia forbade the intensive. As it was, the only reason her mother still allowed it was because the past two years had led to some very important connections in the dance world. Training with top-rate teachers had led to legitimate jobs, and that was always Marcia’s goal.
And that was fine with Charlotte, because her most important connection was Julianna, whose carefree approach to the whole thing always seemed to leave Charlotte wondering what else might be out in the world, waiting to be discovered.
One night, after their classes ended, Julianna begged Charlotte to go out with a big group of them. Of course, Charlotte had refused—she saw the value in a good night’s sleep, and she didn’t want Marcia to catch her.
“Charlotte,” Jules had said on her way out the door, “I’m worried about you.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“All you ever do is dance,” Julianna said.
“That’s why we’re here, Jules.” Charlotte pulled a water bottle from the small fridge in the dorm where they were staying. “To dance.”
“Right, but we’re also here to live,” Jules said.
Charlotte opened the bottle and took a drink. “You know my mom is expecting very specific things from this showcase tomorrow.” The professionals in the audience could help elevate Charlotte’s career—it was what she needed to get to the next level.
Julianna pulled the front door open and tossed a glance over her shoulder. “You sure?”
For the briefest moment, Charlotte imagined what would happen if she did go—even just for a little while. Would she fit in? Would the other dancers accept her? Would she finally know how it felt to belong? But reality quickly answered for her. “I’m sure.”
She’d spent the evening decompressing with a TV movie and drifted off to sleep on the couch, exhausted from a grueling day of dance.
She may’ve slept there until morning, but a knock at the door jolted her awake.
The blue light of the television flickered in the dark suite, and she squinted to see the clock. It was after midnight—did she dream that knock?
Another knock answered her question.
Julianna had probably forgotten her key. Charlotte pulled herself off the couch and padded toward the door, sleepy and out of sorts. She opened the door.
“Jules—” She stopped short when a boy’s face stared back at her. Without thinking, she slammed the door shut and locked it. Not only was she barely clothed, she was alone. And she had no idea who this guy was.
He knocked again. “I’m looking for Julianna,” he said through the door.
“She’s not here.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“She’s out with friends.”
She heard an audible sigh on the other side of the door.
“Who are you?” Julianna hadn’t mentioned a boyfriend.
“I’m her brother. Cole?”
He said it as if it were explanation enough. Charlotte’s heart pounded—it was highly unlikely he wasn’t who he said he was, but why was he here in the middle of the night?
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Not really,” he said. “I called but she’s not answering.”
“Where do you live?” She pressed her ear against the door, then looked out the peephole and watched him answer.
“Harbor Pointe,” he said. “It’s in Michigan.”
“What’s the name of Julianna’s dance teacher?” she asked.
He groaned. “I think it’s CeCe or Cecily or something.”
She pulled the door open. “It’s Celia. And you should know that—she’s only the most important person in Julianna’s life.”
He stared at her. She stared back.
Finally, he shrugged. “Sorry?”
“You can wait in here.”
“Thanks.” He held her gaze.
Her heart turned over. So this was what it felt like to be attracted to a boy. She’d never quite understood it before. She didn’t meet many boys outside of dance, and frankly, none of them had ever made her feel like this.
She stepped out of the way so he could come inside. They had a small common area next to the bedroom, and she motioned for him to take a seat. She watched as he slunk down on the small sofa and raked his hands through his hair.
“Are you okay?” She leaned against the wall.
“Do you know how late she’ll be out?” he asked.
Charlotte glanced at the clock. “I think she should be home any minute. She doesn’t usually stay out too late.”