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See? Dramatic.
I resist the urge to slap my own forehead. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“Look, I just need a note from you to clear me for dance practice. And then I’ll get out of your hair.”
I shake my head. I don’t think I’m getting through to her just how serious I’m being. “Eve, shin splints are serious.”
“I know that.”
“I’ll consider giving you clearance if you let me take a look.”
“I’m fine,” she stresses.
“Okay. Fine. Tell you what. If you can stand up on your toes for me, I’ll clear you.”
There’s a determined fire behind her eyes. Eve’s clearly in an incredible amount of pain, but there’s a defiance to her. I’m getting the sense that she just doesn’t want to be locked in a tiny room with her ex-boyfriend.
I almost take it personally.
Though if I were her, I wouldn’t want to be here either. I’m sure she’s feeling as uncomfortable and uncertain as I am. Ever since I walked in through the exam room doors, something’s been off. Being so close to her, unable to break through her walls—it’s both infuriating and exciting. I can’t tell if I’m intrigued by her or annoyed. The only reason I haven’t found an excuse to escape this awkward encounter is because I’ve got too much pride to turn tail. It’s not my style to run when things get hard.
Jacob being the exception, of course.
Eve puts on her pointe shoes and attempts to rise up on her toes, but fails. She grits her teeth as she pushes herself past the edge. She wobbles, jerks forward. I have to catch her again, placing one hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder.
It surprises me how well she fits in my arms. Everything about her is toned and slim and absolutely perfect. There’s definition in her shoulder muscles, but not in a bulky, freaky bodybuilder kind of way. There’s a flow to her, defined muscles beneath milky, smooth skin.
There’s barely an inch between us as she once again clutches to me for support. At this angle, I can feel the softness of her breasts against me as she leans forward—entirely by accident, I’m sure—and struggles to regain her composure.
“Dammit,” she grumbles. She tries to push me away, but there isn’t anywhere for me to go. Eve ends up pushing me up against the wall, but she doesn’t release me.
“You get points for effort,” I tease.
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I won’t patronize you if you’ll do the smart thing and let me examine you.”
Eve stares up at me. Just stares. It amazes me how deep and dark her eyes are, like a calm, bottomless lake that stretches for miles in any given direction.
I could get lost in them.
Probably not a good idea.
I’m at work. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.
“Well?” I ask, my voice a low murmur.
I already know her answer. She doesn’t have any other options. A dancer’s legs and feet are as important to them as gills and fins are to fish. They can’t exist without them. It’s been a while, but I know Eve’s got a good head on her shoulders. She’s not going to risk her ability to dance just because she doesn’t want to deal with me.
“Fine,” she mutters, shoulders slumping in defeat.
Smart choice.
Chapter Two
Eve
I dare myself to look at him.
How is it possible for anyone to look this good?
Nate’s shoulders are wider than I remember, stronger and sturdier than they were ten years ago. He’s cut his dark brown hair short, styled it with a bit of gel to keep strands out of his equally dark green eyes. They remind me of the snow-covered forests on either side of Haven, seemingly endless stretches of evergreens that reach to the horizon.
His muscular arms are barely contained by the white collared button-down he has on, the sleeves of which he’s rolled up to expose his forearms. It’s his hands that get me—big and sturdy and rough. When his fingers slid up the front of my leg earlier, it was impossible for me to ignore the blooming warmth deep within my core. An urge overcame me, a need for him to touch me all over that was overwhelmingly strong, powerful.
Dangerous.
The boy I knew from back then, the one I foolishly gave myself to, is gone.
Standing before me, it’s clear that Nate is all man.
There’s something in the way he looks at me—watches me—that leaves my heart pounding wildly in my chest. It’s something hungry and devilish and tantalizing.
And I love it.
But as much as I’m enjoying the attention, there’s no way I’m giving in to temptation. There’s no way I can trust him again. He left without a word and came back without so much as a warning. Jerk move. I respect myself too much to waste my time on a man like him.
