Page 22 of Griffin
She laughed.
"No, seriously. Had a few not-safe-for-sharing dreams about being with a ballerina. Those costumes, the long legs and don't get me started on those dance moves."
"You're making fun of my dancing." Shay laughed and grabbed hold of my arm. She didn't think twice about holding onto it, and I was glad. After all, her fucker of a husband didn't exist right now, so we were just two people, enjoying each other's company. At least I hoped that was the case. I was definitely enjoying having her by my side. Something felt really right about it.
"I'm not making fun. I seriously had a thing for ballerinas." I stopped and faced her. "Still do, apparently." Our gazes locked, and there was such a flurry of emotion in her expression, I regretted saying it. "Sorry. My mom always tells me I wear my feelings out loud. I guess she's right."
Shay reached up and touched my face. Instantly, I pressed my hand over hers to hold her palm against my cheek. "You know, I think you're the reason I pulled on those slippers this morning. I've been sort of plodding through my life, waiting for those moments when Tate was on the road, and then shrinking back into whatever was left of me as a person when he was back home. I was good." Her gaze sparkled. "Dancing, I mean." The moonlight was just enough for me to see the pink blush on her cheeks. "It was something I lived for as a kid and teen. But after we got married, Tate told me it was a stupid, expensive and boring hobby. My dancing had always been a part of my soul, a part of who I was, but he managed to crumple it down into a meaningless hobby. I jammed my slippers into my drawer and cried about it for days."
I couldn't stop myself. I pulled her against me and held her in my arms. "If I had someone like you in my life, I'd cherish every fucking minute, Shay. Every inch of you, everything you do, every smile, every laugh, every frown—everything about you deserves to be worshipped."
She blushed again and rested her face against my shoulder. "You sure know how to make a woman melt into a puddle of butter."
"I'm serious, Shay. You need to know that."
She sniffled and wiped her eyes, then lifted her head from my shoulder. "I'm starting to see it, Fin. When I danced today—" her voice wavered. "I couldn't believe how much I missed it. It's almost as if I cut out part of my soul to give up dancing."
"Would you show me a few moves?"
Shay shook her head and turned away. "You're just being?—"
"No, really, I would love to see you dance."
"The sand is too soft." She looked down the stretch of smooth wet sand. The water lapped gently at the shoreline. "This is crazy." She held my arms as she took off her boots and socks. "Colder than I thought," she laughed wildly, then took off. She raced along the sand, her feet barely touching the ground. She jumped high, her long, thin limbs swirling around her to invisible music. And she looked happy. She belonged in the air, defying gravity at every turn, her body turning and moving so fluidly she was a blur of long legs and arms. She turned and headed back to me, her feet and body moving so fast and her leap so high it was almost impossible to believe she was merely human. She stopped with a final twirl and landed in my arms.
Cheers and claps rang out from the beach house. An audience had gathered to watch her. She covered her face, embarrassed at first, then she opened her arms, stuck out a long leg and bowed. Her audience clapped louder. She hurried to me and hid her face against my chest. "I didn't know they were watching."
"Uh, that was fucking incredible, so incredible you brought the whole damn party outside."
She hid her face again, and I took hold of her wrists and uncovered her face. She peered up at me. "Hey, ballerina, you were meant to fly. Anyone who tries to clip your wings doesn't deserve to be part of your life."
Shay's eyes were glassy as she gazed up at me. Her arm circled my neck, and she hopped up and pressed her lips against mine. My arms wrapped tightly around her for the kiss, the kiss I'd been thinking about since I first pulled her out from the flock of hungry birds.
FOURTEEN
SHAY
I'd kissed him. I started it, and I didn't have one ounce of regret. I was ready to do it again. I was ready for him to take me to some quiet place, strip me naked and give me all the things I craved now that we'd kissed.
After the kiss, we fell awkwardly silent. The kiss had started something, but it was something complicated. We sat down on the dry sand and stared out at the relentless tide. It never stopped. It rolled in continuously, and the ocean looked incredibly vast in the dark, as if you could sail off and never find land again.
"What about family?" Griffin asked. "Surely you have someone you can turn to, a place to go to get free of him."
"My mom died of lung cancer when I was seventeen. She loved ballet, and she was there with me for every practice, every recital." I chuckled. "She was a real stage mom but less annoying than the ones you see on television. She didn't tell me how sick she was until a few months before her death. I didn't have time to prepare. I came home from school one day, and she was in bed and that was it. She never got back out."
"Lung cancer, that's rough. Was she a smoker?"
"No, my dad smoked—heavily. Three packs a day. I don't remember him without a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He was a trucker too. That's how I met Tate. He took Tate under his wing, so to speak. Showed him the trucker life and Tate fell in love with life on the road. My dad wasn't abusive, just uncaring. When he was home, he spent his time watching television or playing pool at the local bar. Mom and I just moved around him, avoiding contact. Having him home was not much different than him being on the road. He died three years ago of a blood clot. I felt bad that I never cried about his death, but he just wasn't worth the tears." I looked over at Griffin. His green eyes nearly glowed in the moonlight. "So that's my long way of telling you, no, there's no one. My grandparents were gone before I was old enough to know what a grandparent was. My parents were both older when they had me."
"Sorry about your mom. That must have been tough. Do you think if she'd?—"
"If she'd lived that I would have avoided this disastrous marriage?" I dug my still bare feet back and forth in the sand. It felt good. "I'm not sure. There was a time when I actually loved, well, maybe liked is a better word, Tate. He was different during our first years together. I'm not sure what happened. He sort of snapped, suddenly everything made him angry. His temper got shorter. I asked him to talk to someone, but that only made him angrier."
"Fin," a frantic voice said from behind. We both turned back. Jules' expression caused Griffin to jump instantly to his feet.
"What's wrong?"
I got to my feet.
