The girls gasp.

“My left side was purple for a long time,” I admit. “I had to miss a week of practices. But the worst part wasn’t any of that.” I look them each in the eye one at a time. “The worst part was the fear.”

“I’d be scared,” Keyarah says.

“But you’re scared of the dark too,” Madison tells her.

“Fear is healthy. It’s normal.” I shrug. “It’s your body’s way of saying, ‘Hey, something scary is happening.’ But anything you do that you haven’t done before seems scary, right?”

They nod.

“Fear is also a way of saying, ‘We don’t really know how this is going to end, so you might want to double-check everything.’ And that’s a good thing. The key is to look at fear like your friend and not your enemy. And,” I say, leaning forward like I’m telling them a secret, “that little burst of adrenaline never hurts.”

“I could feel it.” Mia giggles. “Right before I took off, I felt really excited.”

“That’s it. Just don’t like it too much.” I laugh.

“Why not?” Madison asks.

“That’ll get you in trouble later. Adrenaline junkies have lots of bruises as they grow up.”

“I’m not growing up,” Mia informs us. “When you grow up you have to get a job and a house and bills.”

“And laundry,” Madison adds. “I hate putting up laundry, and I don’t even have to wash it yet.”

“Don’t grow up. That’s smart,” I tell Mia as I glance at my watch. “I think it’s quitting time, girls.”

“Will you be here next time?” Keyarah asks.

“Yeah. Will you?” Mia looks up at me. “You’re the best coach ever.”

“I should be. I’ll be here for a little while longer.”

They celebrate, making me laugh. Their reactions cause a swell in my chest, a sense of satisfaction that’s hard to achieve. Watching their purity for friendship, for cheering each other on, for a desire to achieve something new, spurs something inside me to want to do this again. I make a mental note to find a gym in New York where I can volunteer sometimes.

Aerial announces classes are over. The other two groups head into the locker-room area. Before my three girls can take off, I turn to them.

“One more time,” I tell Mia.

She trots to the corner of the mat and takes a steadying breath.

“You can do it!” Madison tells her.

“Use the adrenaline,” Keyarah yells.

Mia laughs, lifting her shoulders, and then sprints across the room and delivers.

“Yay!” I say, clapping. “Good one.”

“Thank you,” she says, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I can’t wait to show my—Dad!” Her face lights up, and she scurries across the mat, tripping off the edge.

“Don’t hurt yourself now,” I call out, laughing at her decent rebound. As I turn to see her leaping into a set of strong, tanned arms, my breath catches in my throat. Looking at me over the top of her head is a pair of green eyes that can belong to only one person.

Dane.

Oh my gosh.

My heel catches the edge of the mat, and I wobble backward, completely caught off guard.

“Careful, Miss Neely,” Keyarah tells me as she and Madison head to the locker room. I barely hear her over the white noise flooding my ears.

He holds her tight, his hand flat against her back as she hugs him hard. It’s an image I’ll never unsee or forget.

Dane as a father.

Dane as Mia’s father.

The things I said last night rattle through my brain. I cringe, wishing the mat beneath my feet would turn into a hole and swallow me. Guilt swallows me instead.

My chest refuses to expand. As every moment I’ve regretted him sleeping with Katie, as every terrible feeling I’ve had toward her and their child takes this opportunity to come barreling back, I think I might vomit.

Setting Mia back on her feet, he rips his eyes from mine and turns his attention back to his daughter.

His daughter.

Bile bubbles at the base of my throat.

“I did my back tuck, Dad.” Mia’s voice cuts through the chaos. “Miss Neely gives the best pep talks.”

Dane lifts his gaze. There’s no warmth there. It’s filled with an indifference that may as well cut me in half.

“Good job, rascal,” Dane says to Mia. His features change as he gives her a high five. “That calls for some ice cream, don’t you think?”

“Two scoops, okay? Because the back tuck is a big deal.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Fine. Two scoops, but they have to be matching scoops. Two vanilla or two bubble gum, because the last time you got two weird flavors . . .”

She rubs her stomach. “Deal.”

They share a laugh that tugs at my heartstrings. I want to interject, to tell him how great she did today, to apologize for last night, but it feels like there is a wall between them and me. A wall built from shame.

Tags: Adriana Locke Dogwood Lane Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net