Page 31 of Dearest Protector
The problem was, the closer we got, the more difficult it was to hide my attraction to him.
I still felt that sexual tension in the air whenever we were together.
I’d almost gotten used to the never-ending longing, and the fact that we were just friends.
But there were times, especially when we were physically close, that I couldn’t ignore it no matter how much I tried.
I’d thought that maybe treating him as a friend would keep my heart from stuttering every time I saw him.
It hadn’t.
Because I liked him so much, the urge to be closer to him in a much different way had just gotten more powerful.
“Ariel Prescott, I’ve known you since we were kids,” Katie admonished. “Don’t try to tell me you’re not interested in Ben as more than a friend. I can see it written all over your face, even though you’re trying to hide it.”
I swallowed a mouthful of wine and let out a long sigh. “How could I not be?” I asked. “He’s ridiculously hot, successful, more intelligent than any guy should be, and extremely kind. But he’s not interested in me that way, Katie. I know he cares about me, but Ben Blackwood could have any woman he wanted. I’ve never been beautiful, and my foot is a total mess. Some of my other scars from the accident have yet to fade, and other than anything that has to do with dancing, I’m completely uneducated. I didn’t even go to college. I went straight from high school to a dance company in New York to continue training. I’m not nearly as worldly as some of the women he’s probably dated, either.”
“That’s complete bullshit,” Katie said with a frown. “You went to learn and perfect your dancing in New York on a scholarship that you earned, and you’re far from unaccomplished. You’re far more sophisticated and accomplished than I was when I came straight out of the university. Hell, you still are, even though you don’t see that. You circulated with the rich and famous, Ariel.”
I had. It had been part of my job to deal with donors and the rich fans of ballet, but… “Yeah, but I was never one of them, Katie. It was all…an act. I didn’t live in that world.”
“Furthermore,” Katie continued, totally ignoring my comments. “Youarebeautiful and elegant. Do you have any idea how long I wished I was a gorgeous blue-eyed blonde with a slim body like yours? Thankfully, you’re almost back to your normal weight. You already look much healthier.”
I smiled. I had put on a few pounds, and could probably use a few more. Better nutrition had made me stronger, but even before the accident, I’d never been beautiful. “I never felt attractive unless I was in heavy stage makeup and dancing.”
Makeup had transformed my look into something dramatic, and dancing well had made me forget that I was nothing special.
If I forgot that for a single second, my mother had always been there to remind me that I was worthless without ballet.
That I was nothing without my dancing ability.
That my nose was too big for my face.
That I was too pale.
That my lips were too full.
That my blonde hair was too curly and not straight and elegant.
That my posture was abysmal when I wasn’t dancing.
That I wasn’t smart enough to do anythingexceptdance.
That every ounce of creativity I had needed to be focused on dancing because I had no other talents.
All those statements had stuck with me, and I swore they were ingrained in my psyche.
Maybe I was slowly learning that I could be more without dancing, and that I wasn’t a totally ugly idiot without it, but it was hard to get over the things that had been ground into me since childhood.
Really hard.
“Then your self-esteem needs work,” she observed. “Not that I have any right to judge since mine has always sucked, too, but you have a lot to offer any guy. And I have no doubt that Ben has noticed the same thing. He’s a really good guy, Ariel. You couldn’t do any better than my stepbrother.”
I laughed. “You don’t have to sell me on Ben Blackwood. He’s ridiculously perfect. I noticed that before he and I met in person. He’s incredibly photogenic, and women pant over him every single day.”
“I don’t see him chasing any ofthosewomen,” Katie mused. “He’s not interested. I think he wants a lot more than to just get laid. Like maybe, a woman he trusts? Or a woman he can talk to about anything and not feel judged? Or a female who looks at him without seeing dollar signs? It sounds to me like you two already have that. He’s not superficial enough to give a shit about your scars. Any of them.” In a softer voice, Katie added, “I know your mother was always critical, but she’s gone now. She died before you went to New York. You sounded like you’d regained your confidence and sense of self after you got to New York. You became successful beyond your wildest dreams without her constantly nagging you. I thought you realized that you were beautiful and unbelievably talented without her constantly reminding you that your only asset was your dancing ability.”
I shook my head slowly. “Maybe I did feel better for a while, but after the accident, all of the things she said came flooding back to me. Even though she’s been gone for years, that voice is always present in my head.”