Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Uh, I’d better go see if my sister’s okay.” Beckett frowns. Then his gaze shifts just over my shoulder, and his eyes narrow. “And you are?”
“Connor.” I step aside so my brother can offer his hand to shake. “Skyla’s brother.”
Beckett takes Connor’s hand, but his jaw is tight. “You the reason my sister looks like she’s ready to punch her fist through the wall?”
“It’s likely.”
What in the world?
“Do I need to punch you?” Beckett asks.
“I appreciate the sentiment because I’d feel the same in your shoes, but no.”
Beckett nods, and his eyes fall to mine. “Skyla.”
“Beckett.”
And with that, he turns to follow Bee.
“What did you do?” I ask, immediately turning to my brother and poking him in the chest, making him scowl at me. “Wait. I know what you did. I’ve heard stories.”
“Really? Do tell.” His lips curl up into a satisfied grin, and I shake my head.
“Absolutely not because now I know they’re about you.” Ugh. That makes me a little nauseous. “If you fucked up my friendship with that woman, I’ll never forgive you, Connor Declan Gallagher. She’s a good person, and she’s been kind to me, and I care about her deeply.”
“Nothing’s fucked up,” he assures me. “Well, between you two, anyway.”
“I can’t believe you.”
Connor shakes his head, seemingly unfazed by my wrath. “Go finish up with the parents so we can get out of here.”
“You can go. I have Riley.”
“And I have a security detail with weapons. That trumps Riley. I’ll wait.”
I blow out a breath, then return to mingle with the remaining parents.
No, this was definitely not a boring recital night.
“Have a good flight.” I hug Connor, then wave to Miller, who’s standing by the open back door of the black SUV waiting to take my brother to the airport.
He scratches Riley behind the ears, then grabs his briefcase. Connor usually wears slacks and a button-down, if not a whole suit, but he’s in jeans and a T-shirt today, which throws me off a bit.
“Why are you so casual, by the way?”
He lifts an eyebrow. “It’s a flight, not a board meeting.”
“You usually wear clothes that would fit a board meeting.”
He smirks. “Because I’m usually coming from one. Today’s casual.”
“And you are leaving town, right? You’re not off to whisk my best friend off for some … I can’t even complete that sentence.”
“I’m leaving.” He narrows his eyes. “And the rest is none of your concern, Skyla Maeve Gallagher.”
“She’s—”
“None of your business. I mean it.”
I huff, but he stalks off to the car. Riley and I watch as he climbs inside, and I wave as the car drives away.
“None of my business, my arse,” I mutter to Riley, who watches me with his expressive, seemingly concerned eyes. “She’s our best mate in this town, so that means it’s my business. We’ll stop by the bookshop on our way to the studio.”
I want to dance today. I don’t always anymore. Not only did I dance every day before, but I also danced for eight to ten hours a day while gearing up for a specific performance.
These days, I dance a few times a week. It’s a great workout, and I want to make sure that my muscle memory doesn’t fade. I know I don’t need it for anything specific, but it’s mine all the same, so I’ll hang on to it for as long as I can, even if my ankle doesn’t want to cooperate.
Will I ever let the anger go regarding my injury? The circumstances surrounding it? The bitterness and helplessness that I still feel deep down in my soul?
I don’t know.
“Let’s not dwell, Riley.” I grab my handbag and set the alarm system on the house, using the new code Connor insisted I implement. Then Riley and I head into town. I park at my studio and walk the few blocks over to the bookshop, where I’m sure to find Bee.
And sure enough, she’s stocking copies of the new Catherine Cowles novel on a shelf.
I’ll be picking up one of those before I leave.
Billie looks lost in thought, her brows pulled together in a frown. She always dresses as if she’s ready for a killer date or an important meeting, and today, she’s in a red dress with black heels that could likely maim a man. Her hair is twisted back in a braid, and she’s wearing a pretty necklace that falls between her breasts.
I’d kill for this woman’s breasts. Billie has curves in all the right places, and I have a ballerina’s body. Painfully slim, and no boobs to speak of.
“Hey there,” I say softly and still manage to startle the poor woman, who drops a book, then cringes when she sees the cover got bent. “Sorry, I’ll buy that copy. I was going to buy one anyway.”
“No, it’s my fault for not paying attention.” She slides the book on the shelf with the others. “It’s been slow in here today, so I’m just restocking and tidying up.”