Page 12 of Scarred

“I meant in here.” His low voice catches me off guard as I blink at him in surprise.

“Here? Inside the dance studio?”

“I’m not leaving my daughter with a stranger I just met. Cameras or not.” There isn’t an ounce of room for argument in his voice, letting me know this isn’t up for discussion.

“It’s not my usual protocol,” I murmur. “Young kids tend to get distracted by their parents, but I guess I can make an exception this one time. If it causes a distraction, though, I’ll have to ask you to leave, and you’ll just have to trust this stranger that your daughter is in good hands, like all the other parents do.”

I don’t know why he’s got me so riled up, but I can’t help as I give it right back to him. Maybe it’s the way his gaze evokes a side of me I’ve never felt before, or maybe it’s simply the arrogance and control I feel suffocating this room.

Either way, he’s trouble, and I need to leave it alone. The last thing I need is rumors going around in this small town about me and one of my students’ dads. I’ve put too much blood, sweat, and tears into this place for something to taint my business name.

“I promise not to be a distraction.” His lip quirks up slightly before it disappears again into a hard line.

So Mr. Serious does have a playful side in there somewhere.

“Fine. Grab a chair from out front. I’ve got a class to teach.” I walk away, letting him fend for himself while I get the girls settled.

“I see everyone found their fairy spot,” I grin at all the little girls as they settle down now that they know class is about to start. “We have a new friend with us today. I want everyone to make Scarlett feel welcome.”

I wink at her, sitting in the front row, and she giggles softly. Glancing up, I see Cayden bring a chair in before he settles his large frame against the back wall. Doing my best to ignore his forbidding stare, I turn on the music and quickly get the girls started with some light stretching before we move into some beginner techniques.

“Yes, Scarlett! Just like that. You are doing so well,” I praise halfway through the class, watching her bring her heels together in first position as I walk around the class. “Now, let’s open your toes a little more like a flower waking up.”

I demonstrate in front of the class the perfect first position and watch as they mimic me.

“Now we are going to pretend we are holding a big beach ball.” My arms are outstretched in front of me as I hug an imaginary ball. “Remember, we don’t want it to fall, so keep holding it tight.”

Glancing around the room, I make sure everyone is following me. The girls aren’t the only ones watching me as I feel his eyes on me again. It’s been like this the whole class, and I’ve resisted the urge to look his way. His daughter may not be distracted by his presence, but every time his gaze lands on me, I can feel the shift in the air—like something unseen brushing against my skin, wanting to weave around and steal the next breath from my lungs.

It pulls at me until I finally give in, my gaze lifting slowly until it collides with his.

Those sea-green eyes spear me, locking me in place. Heat creeps up my neck, and something shifts briefly in his eyes, but it’s gone too soon before I can get a read on him.

Forcing my gaze away, I clear my throat and clap my hands softly. “All right, my little fairies. Let’s try our tiptoes next.” I put on a happy smile, refusing to let the strong presence in the corner stop me from doing my job.

The girls follow my lead as I walk on my tiptoes, leading them around the room.

This dance studio has become my safe place. Inside these walls, I come alive. It’s a feeling deep in the soul, a knowing that you are doing exactly what you were meant to.

Today, though, my safe place has been turned upside down. A new energy has taken over in the form of a six-foot-four, intense man. I know nothing about him except that he has a daughter.

So, why do I feel this strong connection to him?

I would know if we’ve met before. A face like his is not one you would ever forget.

Something tells me there is a lot more to this man than just being a protective father. He’s good at hiding his emotions, but I can almost feel them swirling in the air.

A sadness and anger I can’t explain.

The one that has me shaken, though, is the yearning.

It tugs at me, sharp and unrelenting, until I steal another glance.

Like I’m tethered to him.

Like something unseen is drawing me closer—and I have no idea if it’s going to pull me in…

or snap tight enough to break me apart.