Page 58 of Meet Me in the Valley
I have the urge to scream it out here in the middle of baggage claim so everyone can hear, my heart swelling with pride.That’s my big sister on a big ass poster!
And she’s the star of the show. Just like I knew she would be one day.
It’s not the American Ballet Company, but who gives a shit? She’s still dancing. She never stopped. And if that doesn’t heal a small part of my inner-child.
The “Vixen” herself, dressed in a two-piece dance costume with a black and red leather halter top adorned with gun-metal jewels that wrap around her neck like a choker. The matching leather bottoms sit low on her waist, her long legs accentuated by the knee-high matching boots and tantalizing fishnets hugging her toned thighs. Two male dancers with smoky eye makeup take up either side of her body, their hands clutchingonto her thighs and stomach as her siren eyes pierce the camera. One man stands behind her, his face almost buried in her neck while his fingers splay across her chest, right above the swell of her breasts.
It’s provocative, yet I can’t take my eyes off her. Her hair is sleek, jet black like mine, but slicked back into a high ponytail and creased down with so much gel it hurts my head just looking at it.
“Have you seen the show before?” an older woman with the coolest natural gray streak in her hair asks with a beaming smile.
“Never. This is actually my first time in Las Vegas.”
“Oh, my gosh. Well, you must see Vixen Unleashed while you’re here. The principal dancer,” she points at Nora, “is phenomenal. I’ve seen the show three times because of her.”
Tears form in an instant, a mixture of pride and heartache hitting me all at once in every direction.
I’ve always known Nora’s dancing was special. She worked harder than anyone else in her dance company, taking private lessons on days she should’ve been out with friends or practicing in front of her mirror—I remember the sound of feet thudding on the carpet from my room next door.
I turn my head, discreetly wiping my eyes when the lady cranes her head around to find my eyes.
So much for being discreet.
“Oh, honey. Are you alright?”
It’s a thoughtful question, one with good intentions. A stranger asking me if I’m alright when I’m blubbering in front of a Vegas show poster. She must think I’m high, but her smile is comforting—disarming.
Maybe it’s the realization I’m finally here on the same soil as Nora, but I find the courage to utter three words to a stranger who knows nothing about my life and the chaos within it. It’s a breath I can finally exhale, letting go of some of the weight I’vebeen carrying on my shoulders since the night she left me. It’s release.
“She’s my sister.”
I tap my foot impatiently as I wait for my ride share, tracking his little location dot moving in the opposite direction of where I’m standing. I’ve been standing here for twenty minutes watching him go in circles, cursing under my breath each time the arrival time pushes back by five minutes.
I look toward the sky, releasing a frustrated grunt when my finger punches the cancel ride button.
Screw that guy.
“You look like you could use a ride!” A comforting, warm voice shouts from the curb. I turn my head, only to find a devastatingly handsome blond man with his crooked smile, staring me down in a pair of Wayfarer sunglasses with his arms crossed over his chest.Logan.Clad in a simple gray heather tee, blue jeans, and that silver chain hanging off his neck, my mouth waters instantly despite the dryness of the Nevada desert.
Massive butterflies erupt in the pit of my stomach, and my feet decide on their own to run toward the heartening laugh that brings me home.
How is he here? Why is he here? The thoughts running through my mind move just as fast as my feet carrying me toward him. The instant I fly into his arms, gone is the storm cloud, and in its place is nothing but the warmth of the sun.
Finally.
“Miss me much?” Logan chuckles against my hair, his large hands holding me up by my thighs. Luggage forgotten, all I want is to sink deeper into his hold and thank the universe he’s here. Inuzzle my face into his skin, warm and smelling divine with that spicy cologne I love so much mixed with his natural scent.
My heart flips a million times when his hand comes up to cup the back of my neck, gently pressing a kiss into my temple as I hold back the prick of tears threatening to fall. My legs wrap tighter around him, and I laugh into the collar of his shirt, unable to comprehend Logan actually being here. In Vegas. With me.
I pull my face back to look at him, expecting him to drop me to my feet, but he doesn’t. His eyes sink deeper into mine, casually chewing a piece of spearmint gum as he smiles at me. There’s something so sexy about the way his mouth moves. I stare too long, licking my lips. My stomach clenches when I take in his handsome face. The crooked grin, the freckle on his bottom lip, the small scar on the cleft of his chin from cutting it on a beer can from a failed shotgun our sophomore year.
I can’t help but smile at the memory, but more so at the beauty of his face.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I breathe, flitting my gaze from his eyes to his mouth.
My feet hit the cement as he lets out an effortless chuckle. Logan wraps an arm around my shoulder, leading me back toward my luggage left on the curb.
“I didn’t want you to go through this weekend alone. I booked a flight after you texted me last night.”
