Fallen Heirs (Windsor Academy 3)

I shake my head. “I still don’t like it.”

“Well, too bad.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re going to do whatever you want anyway, so I might as well accept it.”

“I’m glad you’re finally catching up.”

I give her a dirty look out of the corner of my eye. “No need to be a smartass, Jazz. You won this round.” I reach out to grab the tip of her tongue when she sticks it out at me. “Rest that tongue for later.”

I don’t need to look at her to know her eyes are rolling. “You wish.”

I shrug. “Not going to deny that.”

“Hey, you feel like swinging by Ainsley’s studio since it’s right up the road?”

“We can do that.”

I pull into the shopping plaza where my sister’s dance studio is located and find a parking spot. When Jazz and I make our way inside, it’s apparent classes are in session. The lobby is filled with parents peering through the large observation windows, oohing and aahing over little kids dressed in pink leotards and tutus.

“Her first class doesn’t start until five, so she’s probably back in the private studio warming up.” Jazz points down a hallway.

“I didn’t realize you had her schedule memorized.”

“It’s not hard when you pay attention.”

Hell, even I have no clue which class Ains takes when. I just know she spends half of her life in this studio. Sure enough, when we get to the back end of the building, there’s a single door with a small window, and my sister is inside dancing her heart out in front of a wall of mirrors. Unsurprisingly, Reed is inside, sitting against the back wall, watching her. When Ainsley sees us peeking through the window, she motions for us to come inside as well.

“Damn, the soundproofing is legit,” I observe as we open the door, and music I hadn’t heard before now pours through the overhead speakers.

Reed and I fist bump as Jazz and I slide down the wall next to him.

Ainsley pauses the music, wiping droplets of sweat away from her forehead with a small towel. “Hey, guys. What are you doing here?”

“I just finished my interview down the street and wanted to pop in on the way home.”

“How’d it go?” my sister asks.

Jazz smiles. “I start this Saturday.”

Reed gives me a look, and I mouth, later.

“Nice!” Ainsley opens her arms. “An air hug will have to suffice unless you want to get all sweaty and gross.”

Jazz wrinkles her cute little nose. “The air hug’s fine.”

Ainsley’s eyes find mine. “You haven’t stepped foot in this place for years. Who knew it’d take another girl to get you to start taking an interest in my life?”

I give her the finger. “Screw you. Just because I don’t watch you dance a million hours per week doesn’t mean I’

m not interested in your life. I’ve never missed a single recital, have I?”

Ainsley’s studio isn’t large enough to hold recitals, so they rent out the auditorium at this private university nearby.

Jazz’s head turns toward me. “You haven’t? Really?”

“Really,” my sister confirms. “He’s been to every single one since we were six.”

I shrug like it’s no big deal. “Who else is going to show? It’s not like my dad or any of his wives care.”