Page 112 of Igniting Sparks
A few loose strands of hair cling to my face, and my chest tightens with the knowledge my life will never be the same.
I lost everything—again.
There’s no point in continuing, but I can’t stop.
Because right now, this music is the only thing that knows how to hold me.
When the last note fades out, I sink to my knees in the middle of the studio, my eyes cloudy with tears.
Then I realize something. I extend my leg and circle my ankle, half expecting to hear the sickening crack of bones shattering.
But despite the lack of practice, my ankle held.
I’m still a dancer.
“Jesus, Mina, that was… incredible.”
I spin around at Braden’s voice. “How much did you see?”
“I’m not sure. I was grabbing my charging cable when I heard the music. Had to stop and watch you. The way you matched your movement to the song and brought the emotion to a whole new level. Have you been practicing that piece?”
“Not at all.” I push the sweaty strands from my face. “It wasn’t a routine, but rather a therapy session.”
“Sure as hell looked like it evoked all the right emotions.” A slight flush climbs his cheeks as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry if I intruded on your personal moment. I couldn’t look away. This is a part of you I don’t know yet, and I’m fascinated by her.”
“There’s nothing fascinating about me.”
“Not true.” He gazes down the hall. “You’ll make a wonderful teacher, Mina.”
No, I won’t.
Braden doesn’t know about Vanessa’s phone call. I’ve yet to find the courage to tell him, partly because I worry he’ll blame himself—but mostly because I feel like an inept loser, and my biggest fear is that my aunt’s decision will wake Braden up to the truth.
He’ll realize I’m not worthy of his time or affection.
That he can do so much better than a washed-up, almost dancer.
I hop to my feet and grab the towel off the barre, drying my face. “I’m not sure about the dance world anymore. Maybe I don’t belong there. Maybe I never did.”
Braden shakes his head and hands in tandem. “Are you nuts? Look, I don’t know shit about dancing, but I knowyouare magical. You bring emotions to life with every move. I didn’t know that was possible, but I felt your pain. Now, my biggest concern is—how do I fix it for you?”
God, I love this man.
I walk over to him and tilt my face up for a kiss. “It’s not your job to fix me. That’s my job.”
Braden wraps his arms around me, not caring that I’m sweaty and sticky. “Life isn’t a solo act, Mina. It’s a group effort, and I’m here for all of it. So, you might not want the help, but I’m always in the wings, should you need me.”
“What I need is a shower and then some serious cuddle time. Is that okay?”
He smiles and smacks my ass. “Perfect. I’ll make the popcorn.”
I walk into the living room fifteen minutes later, feeling fresh and calm.
It lasts all of three seconds.
There, on the entertainment portion of the news, is a clip about the upcoming awards show. Wouldn’t you know it—Leo’s creative agency is the team behind the group choreography.
Sometimes the world is suffocatingly small.
