Was it my fault or his? I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that for a week we’d been talking easily, as much as Cooper ever talked. We’d even found things to laugh about on our drive to the academy—like our mutual fear of Bianca or the nauseating way Ethan and Collette slipped each other love notes when they thought no one else was looking.
But today, on our drive to the academy, we were back to silence. When we filed in the studio, we each went our separate ways to warm up before taking our places at the barre for the start of class. I found myself cursing at my former self who’d let herself think that maybe things were different, that maybe he was changing, or we were changing, or—
“That is it!” Bianca’s sharp tone cut into my stewing and when I snapped my head up I found her standing directly in front of me and Cooper at the barre.
She looked at me as she pointed to Cooper. “Eve, does Cooper smell bad?”
“Um.” I was so taken aback by her question that I instinctively leaned in and sniffed. Heat permeated my entire body when my nostrils filled with the woody, heady scent of Cooper. Too embarrassed to give a truthful answer, I went with, “Er, no…?” I glanced up at him in confusion, ignoring the snickering going on around us.
Bianca turned to Cooper and pointed at me. “Cooper, did Eve kick your puppy or kill your cat or something?”
He glared at her and I tipped my head down to hide my burning cheeks as the snickers around us grew to outright laughter.
I had a feeling I knew where this was going and I said a silent prayer to be saved—
“Then why won’t you touch her?”
I winced. Maybe I hadn’t prayed quickly enough. Humiliation made my cheeks burn but it was something else entirely that had my belly twisting and my chest aching.
“I am sick and tired of watching you two treat each other like you both have cooties.”
I blinked hard at the floor to keep tears at bay. That was how much he didn’t want to touch me. So much so that it was plain to everyone around us.
“Cooper, I don’t know what your deal is, but Eve, I expect better from you.”
I flinched, not daring to lift my head to face Bianca’s wrath because I knew she was right. Cooper was only in this class as punishment, but this was my dream. Hopefully one day my career. In this studio, I was supposed to be professional, I was supposed to be above crushes and hurt feelings.
I nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Bianca’s sigh was so loud and filled with exasperation that I cringed all over again.
When I finally dared to lift my head, she was pointing toward the doorway.
A sick sensation rose up into my throat. She was kicking us out?
“You two are killing the mojo for everyone else in this class,” she said. “Go work out your issues in the hallway or in another dance studio and don’t come back until you touch each other without flinching in disgust.”
I took a step toward the doorway, Cooper right behind me. Oddly enough, I felt some relief that she wasn’t kicking us out of class for good.
When the door clicked shut behind us, Cooper glared at Bianca through the glass window in the hall. “Someone needs to do something about that girl. She’s a freakin’ tyrant.”
I took a deep breath, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “She’s also right.”
He turned slowly to face me, his face once more impassable, almost like our unspoken truce this past week had never occurred. “You think she was right to humiliate you like that and—”
“Yes,” I said, my tone sharp. “I mean, I hate when she acts like that, but Bianca made a valid point. I’m supposed to be the professional in there, and we were acting immature.”
His brows arched slightly. “Immature, huh?”
I nodded. My insides still churned and my heart was aching from another round of Cooper’s relentless rejection, but ballet...that was one thing I could focus on. That meant more than any of this nonsense going on between the two of us.
“Look, I understand that you hate touching me.” Ugh my cheeks were going to burst into flames, but I kept going. “I get it. I do. I’m nothing more than a little sister to you.” The words felt like acid in my throat but I focused on what Bianca had said—what I knew to be true. I was a professional.
I pointed toward the studio. “I know this is hard for you to understand because you’re not a serious dancer, but in there, I am not your babysitting charge or your best friend’s little sister or even...or even your friend.” I swallowed a thick lump. Did he even think of me as a friend? Doubtful. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, ignoring his fierce stare. “In there, we are partners.” I opened my eyes and forced myself to meet his gaze. To search for terms that he would understand. “In there, I’m your teammate. Got it?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched and his nostrils flared. I could tell that he wanted to say something more but that something more never came. Instead, he nodded. “Yeah. I got it.”
I took a step toward him, determined not to notice the way the butterflies in my belly burst into action at his proximity. Hating the way my heart started to race just because I could smell his scent and feel his heat. Why couldn’t I just move on from him?
I tilted my head back to meet his gaze head-on. “Then touch me.”
His eyes grew dark, his eyelids lowered so they were hooded. “Excuse me?”
His voice was so low and rough I could feel the vibration in my chest. I licked my lips as my mouth went dry. I tried to swallow and failed.
Ballet, I reminded myself. You are here for ballet.
I reached out and grabbed his hands, placing them on my waist. “Touch me,” I repeated.
The heat from his hands burned through the thin fabric of my leotard and all I could hear was the sound of my own ragged breathing.
Crap. Get it together, Eve. Take a deep breath.
When I met his gaze again, I forgot how to breathe entirely. Air lodged in my lungs as I held my breath and froze.
No, I melted.
The look in his eyes was so intense, so dark and dangerous and…
Hot.
And then, just like that, it was gone.
He was gone.
His hands dropped from my waist and he took a quick step back, his gaze shuttered and his expression blank.
“Seriously?” My voice was too high, too tight with emotions. I let out a short humorless laugh. “Am I that repulsive to you?”
He flinched. “You’re not repulsive.”
The silence in this hallway was killing me. I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. He just stared at me, and I… I wanted to cry.
I wouldn’t, but the urge was there.
I wanted to beat my fists against his chest and beg him to tell me what he was thinking. More importantly, what was he feeling?
I took a step toward him but stopped when he stiffened.
He was holding his breath.
The air between us was charged with tension, and that electricity, and…
He felt it, too.
The hallway seemed to tilt around me and my belly dipped like I was on a roller coaster as this new thought hit me like a sucker punch.
He felt it, too.
He had to. I took a step closer, slower this time. He didn’t move away but his jaw clenched and that muscle twitched again.