Page 42 of Dancing on Air

But she didn’t want to do anything without talking to Max first, and she wouldn’t be seeing him until after lunchtime. Which she spent sitting on the floor in one of the classrooms, eating her chopped carrots and cucumbers and drinking her sparkling water.

Food was a luxury she took when she wasn’t required to be moving ten hours a day. Even then, she kept track of her calories. Religiously.

Seeing how her mother overindulged in every aspect of her life—smoking, drinking, the pills the doctors gave her, junk food—had convinced Cora early on that she wanted more control of that part of her life.

The only area she hadn’t held back in was sex. At least not with Max. The more she replayed the other night, the more she was positive she wanted it to happen again. With Max, something was different.

Whenever she’d bumped into him over the years, there had been a look in his eyes that she’d wished more than anything to explore. Now that she’d had a taste of what was hidden beneath, she desired it even more.

Much like the addictions her mother struggled with her entire life, Cora was slowly giving into the need. Only her longings were to see Max again. To have his hands on her. To feel his warm, firm body next to her own. For the release he gave her and the spark in his eyes he got each time he saw her.

He was her addiction now. He was the reason she wanted to be a better dancer, a better person.

Chapter Eleven

Shortly before practice, Max’s dad walked onto the stage.

“You out there, son?” he asked, shielding his eyes from the stage lights.

Max didn’t like to have the full production lights on during practice. Still, he knew the importance of having stage lights on while dancers practiced.

“Here,” he called out to his father, who instantly moved to the stairs and found him a few aisles down.

“I hadn’t expected you today,” Max pointed out as he continued to scan over his notes.

“Oh, I thought I’d sit in again today.” His father shifted. There was a moment of silence before he added. “So, you and Cora Thomas?”

Max jerked his head towards his father. “Who told you?”

His dad’s eyes narrowed. “She did. Last night.”

Max’s eyebrows shot up quickly, then he frowned and asked. “Last night?” He figured that if he played dumb with his dad, he might get more information from him.

Just then, a group of dancers entered the stage.

“Where do you want us?” one of the backup dancers asked.

“Top of the second act,” he called out. Then he turned to his father. “Last night?”

His father leaned forward as if dismissing him. Max knew full well he wouldn’t get any more information from his father once the music started. He’d hoped to hear his side of the story. Why he’d been at Cora’s in the first place.

He glanced towards the stage and waited for Cora’s entrance.

When she did finally gracefully enter the stage, she was in full character and totally focused on her performance.

He sat and watched, like his father. There were a few changes he wanted to make for the other dancers. Two of the crew in the background messed up. Still, he and his father sat in silence and watched until the entire portion of the act was over.

When the music died, he stood up and moved to the stage. As he rattled off the changes, he saw his father leave the auditorium.

The moment his father was gone, he called a fifteen-minute break, surprised when a handful of dancers groaned.

“You can work on your parts while I chat with Cora about some changes I want.” He motioned towards his office and, without waiting, headed across the stage.

At this point, he no longer cared what anyone thought about them. If his father knew, then everyone else was clued in as well.

Cora jogged to catch up to him.

“Is everything all right?” she asked as he opened his office door.