Page 34 of Sweet (Chicago Underground 7)
“Did you?” I asked, fascinated.
“No,” he said firmly. “I went because it was what made you happy, and I wanted to see you happy. And because I got to see you in a leotard.”
I laughed a little, blushing. I was wearing a leotard now too, although it was a heavy-duty black one with swishy blue shorts that ruined any potential sexy curves. Not that I had an excess of curves anyway—there was a reason I’d been so well suited to ballet. “I imagine my little show just now was a disappointment. That was just training, really.”
His voice dropped, faintly teasing but full of promise. “It worked for me.”
“Hmm.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I’m more of a show-not-tell kind of girl.” A smile touched my lips as I thought of how much showing I’d done on that first night from my bedroom window. And a fair amount of telling too, the night we’d talked on the phone.
I led him upstairs, neatly pushing aside any of the questions that loomed in front of us, most namely: what now? I didn’t want to know the answer, didn’t want to be turned away or let down again when hope was so strong within me, heightened by lust and a sweet relief to be near him again.
Upstairs, I looked around, dismayed. I had slept at my brother Colin’s house for the first two nights after leaving Drew in the hospital. I’d had to swear that Philip hadn’t thrown me out, because technically he hadn’t. But damned if I was going to continue living with Philip while he tore apart my every dream just to prove he could. But my fortune had quickly changed. When I went to the city offices to reapply for my permits, I was told the ban had been lifted. Just like that? Philip must have changed his mind, though he wasn’t known for doing so. I didn’t question my luck. After that, I’d slept on a pile of questionable beanbags and floor cushions before having a daybed delivered. I’d thrown myself into renovating the studio downstairs and opening the business. It had been easier than dwelling on a recovery I wasn’t a part of.
The sight at the window jarred me from my lust. A dark street with reflective puddles. Cars going by, too fast to stop if they had to. Something dark stirred in my stomach—fear and horror and more. Pulling away, I crossed the large open living room and stood in the same place I had that night, at the window looking out. Always watching, made mute by the walls I had erected. I hadn’t been able to help him then. Even now, my heart thudded in my ears, my palms sweaty with fear even though he was in the room, here, safe.
Chapter Fifteen
He came up behind me, the nearness and heat of his body reverberating through mine. I wanted nothing more than to turn around, grab him, and hold on, but this felt too fragile. Too important.
“It would be okay if you wanted to wait,” he murmured, brushing my hair aside. Warm lips met my skin, sending shivers down my spine. “You have every right to be angry.”
“Angry,” I repeated dully.
“I deserve it.” His hands came to rest on my hips. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”
How could I be angry when it led him back to me? Drew had been in an accident, and the ripples had touched everyone who loved him. “I’m a lot of things for you. I’m hopeful and sad and…and hurting. I hurt for you.”
“No. No more pain.”
“Your injuries, they—”
“Like yours, I think.” I felt a soft brush of his fingers on the sides of my knees. It tickled me, teasing out a small, breathless gasp. My thoughts began to drift until he added almost distractedly, “Occupational hazard.”
I twirled and ended up an inch from his face. “What do you mean? It was me. My studio, my hiding us that made you get hurt.”
His eyes searched mine. “Philip never told you?”
“I haven’t spoken to him since the hospital. What did you mean, occupational hazard?” Although I already knew. With sickening clarity, I knew what he was about to say.
“The accident wasn’t exactly…accidental.”
“I’ll kill him,” I breathed. “Philip knew that it was his fault. And he—and you—”
“Ah.” He stopped me with a half smile. “I can’t claim ignorance here. I knew the risks of what we did, and I was paid well to take them.”
“What now? Are they going to come after you again?”
He was already shaking his head. “We took care of it.”
“Do I even want to know?”
“I doubt it.”
I frowned. “Are you sure you’re safe?”
