Page 28 of Two-Step
I could do that. But I don’t feel up to it.
I shrug. “It’s been a shit day.”
Nothing about his expression changes except for the tiniest twitch of his left eyebrow. “Even before the disastrous dance lesson?”
I blink. I don’t know what I expected him to say, but it isn’t this. But the rest of my day wasn’t bad. We filmed a spell-casting scene this morning, and that was a lot of fun. Even though I know it’s just from a fog machine, when the set floor ripples with mist, everything feels magical.
“No.” I smile a little at the memory of the scene. “Just since the accident.”
“Mmm.” He nods, pressing his lips together and frowning as though concentrating. “So you didn’t send anyone else to the hospital?”
My smile collapses as though I’ve been slapped. “No.” I push away from the wall and make for the door. I feel bad enough about what happened already. I don’t need to talk to this asshole to make me feel worse.
“Wait.”
I should keep walking, but something in his voice makes me stop. Still, I don’t turn around.
“I’m sorry. I meant that as a joke. It was a bad one.”
My gut is cinched so tight it feels like I’m wearing one of Raven’s corsets. I make myself let out a slow breath and I turn.
His face is still hard to read, still hard in general. But maybe I spot some regret in his dark brown eyes.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” he admits.
The corset loosens a little.
“It really was an accident.” Defensiveness lines my tone.
Beau stuffs his hands into his pockets, drawing my eyes to his jeans again. I force myself to ignore the front view this time. “I know it was.”
Even though I’m relieved to hear this, I cross my arms over my chest in a protective stance. “And I feel really bad about it.”
He shifts his posture, his shoulders dropping, his feet shuffling. He looks down and then up at me from behind his dark brows. “I know you do. That’s why I’m apologizing.”
He’s saying the words and he looks like he means them, still I keep my arms crossed over my chest. I just don’t feel like I can let my guard down around him.
Dancing lessons with him are going to suck.
Please, God, please let Mr. Hebert be okay.
I sigh again. “Thank you,” I say, acknowledging his apology. “We should probably head inside and find out how things are going.”
“Yeah,” he says with a stiff nod. And about as awkwardly as two people can, we enter the hospital together.
After a couple of wrong turns, thanks to confusing signage, we find ourselves outside of the Lagniappe Cafe instead of the emergency room. A big, bald guy dressed in green scrubs and wearing a wide smile steps out with his to-go bag and stops in front of us.
“Oh my God! You’re Raven Blackwell—I mean, Iris...” His eyes bug and his smile turns embarrassed. “Iris Somebody.”
I laugh. “Iris Adams. What’s your name?” I ask this of everyone who recognizes me. Like all the people before him, this guy looks surprised. Pleasantly so. Which is why I always ask.
“I’m Nathaniel.” He offers his free hand, and I take it.
“Nice to meet you, Nathaniel.”
“What are you doing here?” he asks, pumping my hand.
I glance around and catch Beau Landry gaping at me like I’m a freak of nature. “We’re actually looking for the emergency room. Can you help us out?”
