“Then why did you leave like we were just a dirty fuck you couldn’t wait to go home and wash off.”
“Don’t say it like that.” I can’t believe he’s offended that I thought we were a dirty fuck. Isn’t he the one with the reputation?
“Then tell me how to say it,” he counters, crowding me. Except, this time, I don’t want to back away. His eyes burn into mine, full of anger but tinged with sadness. Did my leaving hurt him and not just his ego? Does he like me, as in,reallylike me?And the swans … what about the swans?
“Because I’ve been going insane trying to figure it out.” Dylan pauses before lowing his voice to a sad whisper. “Was any of what you said to me that night real? Was the you in my bed real?”
Tears sting my eyes before I can stop them. The tears I don’t have time or energy to shed for my parents or my sister, fall freely for this man. I hate how much energy he takes. I hate that he’s seeing how much he affects me.
I hate how much I want to hand over my life to him. Even if he just smiled and looked into my eyes and said Sage is lucky to have a sister like me and I’m doing the right thing. Even that would be enough.
“Dylan, please,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I blink so fast the tears start to slow.
“Please what?” he says, his tone softening and hands rest low on my hips. His body shields us from most of the room, but I need his touch more than I need to keep our secret. “Please stop asking? Please leave you alone? Please stop with the swans? Please stop looking for you in every room I enter? I can’t, Emma. Not unless you tell me that you didn’t feel what I did that night. Not unless you tell me you can’t feel our connection. In this room full of hundreds of people dressed to impress, tell me that I’m not the one you looked for?”
Hidden from the rest of the room, he tips my chin up until I can’t escape the hauntingly beautiful aquamarine eyes that seem to hold a mirror to my heart. “Tell me to stop, and I will. Tell me you’re scared, and we’ll work through it. But we need to talk about that night and what comes next for us.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block him out, trying to block out the way his words make me feel. I want to tell him it was real. I want to tell him it meant everything. But I can’t tell him the truth without blowing up my life, and I refuse to lie. Not to him, and not to myself.
“You don’t understand,” I manage to say, my voice breaking. How much can I say without the entire truth spewing out and destroying everything?
“Then make me understand,” he pleads, his hand brushing down my body until reaching my hand, reigniting the tingling from our one night. “Because I’m ready to risk everything for you, and you’re still running. My contract’s up at the end of the year. If the two of us are outed, you’re not the only one who’ll suffer. Except, you’re beautiful and an amazing dancer and can go anywhere to work. All I’m good for is rugby league. With my reputation, if the Mavericks cut me loose because of attitude or off-field antics, then I won’t even get an international retirement contract.”
“I don’t want you to lose your job.” The dam of tears threatens to break again, but before I react, he steps in closer and thumbs them away.
“I don’t want either of us to lose our jobs, but I don’t want to lose you, more.” Dylan says the words as if he means them, but how can he?
“Don’t,” I whisper.
“Don’t what?” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. “Don’t care? Don’t want you? Too late, Emma.”
And then his lips are on mine for the kiss I didn’t know I needed. And as much as I’m terrified to be kissed in the corner of a crowded room, it’s as if he’s transferring his energy to me. I feel alive, that I can take on the world with his kiss.
I press my body into his hand resting on my hip, wanting to feel his need for me, even though the only way this kiss can end is with us doing something stupid or getting caught. He’s the one who shows control, holding me just so there’s an air gap between our hips, while deepening the kiss until I can’t remember why we shouldn’t.
Because it’s Dylan. Dylan … who feels like the sun after a storm. Dylan … who is a beacon reminding me there is hope and light at the end of my tunnel. Dylan … who is a reminder of the best night of my life.
But it’s also the worst kiss of my life. Because it has to end. Because it has to be the last. If cheer was just a job, I’d risk it for Dylan. But I love dance, and cheer is how I can danceandpay for Sage’s therapy. She’s not just my responsibility, she’s my sister. Dylan is worth every risk, other than Sage. I can’t do this to her.
When we finally break apart, my forehead rests against his, both of us breathing hard. His eyes search mine, silently begging for answers.
“I can’t,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
“Why not?” he asks, his tone raw, desperate.
“Because I have too much to lose,” I say, stepping back, my hands trembling. I was wrong before. There is another way to end the kiss. “And you’re not worth the risk.”
I don’t wait for him to respond or for him to force me to explain. I return to the guests and glue myself to Skye’s side for the rest of the night.
I resist the urge to look for Dylan.
I resist the urge to explain everything and beg him to find a way that we can be together without risking my sister’s health.
Why does doing the right thing for the right reasons feel wrong?
Chapter 11
A Public Declaration
