Page 55 of Fifty
My boots hit the stairs, and I move fast, taking them two at a time. I spot the dance studio right away, and move forward. Peeking through the glass outer door, I find a small room lined with wooden, locker style shelves. There are bags and shoes scattered inside them, and sweatshirts hanging on hooks.
As I pull the door open and step inside, I immediately spot another door across the room. Beside the door is a wall made entirely of windows, and it looks directly into the studio. Looking through the glass, I find a large bright room. It’s an open area lined with mirrors, but in one corner there are eight silver poles mounted floor to ceiling.
My eyes are drawn to her, and I watch as she moves fluidly. Her long chocolate brown hair fans out behind her as she twirls. She’s a fucking vision. When she stops the small group of girls attempts to copy her, but none of them have anything even close to what she has.
A tiny blonde spins, stopping abruptly when she catches sight of me in the window. Her lips start moving as she points in my direction, and the rest of the group turns, Jade included. Her bright green eyes go wide and she says something to them, but I can’t hear anything they’re saying to each other. Seconds later they all start moving toward the door. I watch as they funnel out, grabbing shoes and sweatshirts. Most keep their heads down, avoiding me altogether, but a couple stare up at me as Jade holds the outer door open, still refusing to make eye contact with me.
“Sorry about the interruption girls. You all did great today. We’ll work on a few new moves on Thursday,” she says, finally lifting her glaring eyes to mine.
The girls continue to move quickly, slipping into their shoes and gathering the rest of their shit, all the while glancing back and forth between me and Jade. The blonde who first took notice of me steps toward the door. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” she asks Jade pointedly.
“I’m positive. I’ll be fine. It’s him you should be worried about,” Jade cracks a smile and the small group releases a combined laugh. The inevitable whispering starts as they finally make their exit, and I feel my eyebrows raise as a grin curls on my lips.
“What are you doing here?” she asks as soon as the door closes.
“I know what you did for my ma. You stayed with her and took care of her when I couldn’t, and you didn’t have to. I just… I needed to say thank you,” I answer.
“Your text was enough. You really didn’t have to come all the way over here,” she replies.
“But then I would’ve missed the show,” I grin back, gesturing towards the studio windows.
“How much did you see?” she asks as her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. My instinct is to grab her and press her against the wall, feeling her body curve into mine, but I force out a breath and control my impulse.
“Enough,” I smirk back, offering a simple answer.
“I’m sure your eyes were on those younger girls—” she starts, but I take a step closer and she freezes mid-sentence.
“The only one I had my eyes on, was you,” I tell her truthfully and she pulls in a sharp breath through her teeth.
I lift my hand to cup her cheek, letting my thumb move slowly over her soft skin. My eyes focus on her face, her wide green eyes and full raspberry lips.
“I’m sorry,” I finally admit.
“Me too,” her soft response falls out.
I lean down, inhaling deeply as I take in the sweet scent clinging to her hair and skin. “Jesus, Jade. I’ve missed you so fucking much. What can I do to make it right?” I practically beg.
“I guess, maybe we should start by talking. I can tell you everything that I never told you before, and if you still want to make it right after you’ve heard everything, then we can figure it out from there,” she breathes.
“You don’t have to,” I start.
“Yes, I do. I should have been more honest before. You deserve to know,” she cuts me off.
“How about we go for a drink?” I offer, tipping my head towards the door.
“I’d like that, but I really need to go home to shower and change first,” she says.
“Mind if I follow behind and wait?” I ask, trying my best to sound casual. My heart is thumping heavy against my chest as I panic at the thought that if I let her out of my sight, she’ll change her mind and I’ll never see her again.
“Okay,” she whispers.
I watch as she turns, slipping into a pair of flip flops before collecting a small duffel bag and reaching for a gray sweatshirt on one of the hooks. She ties it loosely around her waist and glances back at me over her shoulder.
“Ready?” she asks lifting her eyebrows.
“Shit, darlin’. I have never been more ready in my entire life,” I grin back, letting her lead the way out.
Thirty-Five