I knelt in front of him.
Unable to stand.
I swore, I could feel my spirit twining with his, the magnet that was this child winding me with his.
Spinning, spinning, spinning.
Until I no longer recognized myself anymore.
“You did?” I whispered. Affection rode out. Fierce and unstoppable.
I was in trouble. So much trouble.
He beamed up at me. “Yup. My dad even got up really, really early and helped me ’cause I told him it had to be way extra super special.”
He stuck out his tiny hand that he’d been waving in the air. In his palm was a thin bracelet made of blue string with beads tied haphazardly along it.
“Look it, Miss Murphy!” He scrambled to get closer as he hovered over where I held it. Excitement blazed from his little body as he started to explain. “It’s got a book because you’re a teacher and teachers love books, right, Miss Murphy, right?”
He looked at me for approval.
I gave him a soft nod.
Unable to speak.
“And then it’s got a ballet slipper for all your dances, and I think maybe I wanna go to one of those after school.”
My chest squeezed.
I could hardly breathe.
He pointed at the last. “And this one is a star because my dad said you’re like heaven and the stars are way, way up high in heaven, right?”
With that one, he looked at me, his eyes creased in question. Not quite sure.
My heart thudded. My breath short. My throat locked.
His nose scrunched up. “So, what do you think? You think it’s the best ever? Because you’re the best teacher in the whole worlds, and I want to stay right here with you forever! Would that be okay, Miss Murphy?”
Affection crushed through my being, tearing everything apart.
Destroying everything I’d known.
Rearranging.
Refiguring.
Restructuring.
I touched his face.
Overcome.
My favorite. My favorite.
Only it was more than that.
Terrifying and true.
I was falling for both Lawson men.
And I had no idea what I was supposed to do.
Seventeen
Eden
Classical music echoed through the hall, the hardwood floors of the studio familiar beneath my feet. The lights were dimmed, only the barest glow emanating from the recessed coves and glowing through the rambling space. The walls were mirrored, and the barres had been pushed aside after my last class of the day.
It was just after six, and I should have been at home grabbing a quick nap before I went in for my shift at the club tonight.
But I needed this.
To dance.
To let my body flow with the tempo.
To be entranced by the moves.
Entranced by the music.
To let my heart rise and fall with the beat.
Where it was just me and the beauty of the movement.
I dipped into a plié before rising up and jumping into a grande jeté. I glided from one move to the other. A mix of graceful and harsh. The music hushed and held in anticipation before it would rise to a thrill of mini-crescendos.
It was funny how ballet was such an intrinsic part of me, yet it still felt incredibly private.
It was where I found myself. Where I lost myself. Where worries and concerns drifted away into the nothingness, and the only thing that mattered was the feeling. The sensation coursing through my veins.
As if I were flying.
Free.
Alive.
It was a little unnerving how that feeling could be so closely compared to Trent Lawson.
In the moment, all rational thought gone. Sane judgement slayed.
When dancing, the only thing I was living for was the high. The rush.
And in the heat of the moment with Trent, the only thing of any consequence or consideration was the ghosting of his fingertips across my skin. The sizzle of those eyes and the impact of those hands.
An entirely different high. An entirely different rush. One I wasn’t sure I could ever stop chasing.
Which was why I’d needed to come here and hide myself away. Get lost somewhere else.
Nothing but the charge of adrenaline and the march of the composition.
Art.
Where I understood what I wanted. Who I was and where I stood.
Where there weren’t flickers of fear or a blaze of need.
I moved into a pirouette as the music rose to its highest height. I spun and spun, alternating between point and demi-point. Round and round and round. My pulse thundered, and my chest stretched tight with the exertion as every muscle in my body flexed and extended.
Bound with the beautiful exhaustion of this labor of love.
Shivers raced.
That feeling lifting.
Sensation flashed across my flesh.
Growing and compounding.
In it, I let myself completely go. All inhibitions floored. Crushed under the thunder of my feet.
I spun and spun. The mirrors were a blur of streaking ribbons and light. It felt as if it might be the only way for me to fly. To rise to the surreal. Where these impossible questions might hold answers.
It only amplified. Increased. And I was gasping when the song hit its end and cut off with a sudden, jarring high-pitched note.