Page 4 of Heir of Fire
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
She threw her water bottle at the glass mirror in front of her, letting out a scream in frustration. So close, but not perfect. Luckily, the glass didn’t shatter, but the sound was loud enough to shock her for a moment. Almost as if she’d been brought back to reality, she ripped the pointe shoes off, throwing them to the side.
The relief was instantaneous. She was correct though—there were new blisters bleeding on her big toe. Gianna had been dancing herself into oblivion because of the showcase in a couple of months. It was a chance for everyone in the dance program at Grand Willow University to demonstrate what they had learned throughout the year, which meant putting together their own choreography for an audience. She chose to perform solo, whichmeant there was more pressure to make sure everything was perfect.
But after she fell at practice the other day trying to land the grand jeté, she felt humiliated. Ballet was the one thing she knew, and she crumbled like a fool in front of her teachers and the other dancers in the class.
Since then, she had been in the downstairs home studio trying to land the fucking move. She still hadn’t.
The music had long stopped playing and she was left in silence as she stretched, her body groaning in painful relief. She looked up into the mirror, catching the reflection of damp brown hair and a look of indifference standing behind her.
It was Finn Kingsley. As in the same one who had been missing for months but was suddenly here as if he had never been gone.
She gasped, turning around in a split second. “What are you doing here?”
“Heard a clash and wondered if you had thrown yourself into the mirrors,” Finn said, leaning against the doorframe.
“I don’t just mean in the studio—I mean in this house. Or better yet, in New York. I thought you left for good,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She ignored the way it drew his eyes directly to that part of her body.
“I thought I had as well, but I was kidnapped.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’ve been standing there watching me.”
He scowled. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Wouldn’t want any flattery from you anyways,” she said with a sarcastic smile.
“Glad to see you haven’t changed.”
“And neither have you.”
“Can’t wait to live here,” he muttered before turning and walking out the room.
Gianna’s eyes widened. She stood, running after him. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re not living here. Why wouldn’t you live with your sister? She has a beautiful, big ass house that is perfect for you.”
“Well, she tossed me here. Take it up with her, princess.”
She followed him up the stairs, appalled by the nickname. “Princess? And what are you? The jester?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an asshole?”
He stopped his steps, forcing her to slam into his back. Gianna wasn’t short by any means—being the tallest one of the friend group—but still, her nose hit the center of his back, leaving him towering over her. From that angle, he should have intimated her. Too bad for him, Gianna wasn’t intimidated by anyone.
“Seems you’ve lost your step.”
She wanted to knock the smirk off his face. “I’m going to get this sorted out. You’re not living here,” she said, walking around him.
“Of course you are. I’m sure there’s nothing you haven’t gotten just because you asked, princess.”
She clenched her jaw. He didn’t know half of it. Gianna ignored him, stomping into the living room where Blair was studying. She had her laptop open on the couch beside her and a textbook on her lap as she chewed on the end of the pen in her hand, brows furrowed in concentration while she read. Gianna almost felt bad disturbing her.
“Can you believe that Finn is living here? I’m going to die, Blair. That’s three men living here. Three. Four if you count how often Augustus comes here to stalk Cecilia. And he’s such an asshole too. Why should he be our problem anyway? We didn’t want him home. I say he should go to Luna’s house and botherthem—I mean, she’s the only one who likes him.” She slumped on the couch with a huff.
“No, I wasn’t busy or anything. Thanks for asking,” Blair said, closing the book.
“I’m miserable.”
