Page 67 of The Pucking Wrong Man

Maybe Camden had broken me.

My classmate’s whispers grew louder, only disappearing when the last of them had left the room.

“What was that?” Dallon asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest, his face the picture of disappointment.

“Just a mistake,” I said, shame coating my insides at having to explain myself to him. Dallon was a trust-fund baby whose parents had fed his talent from an early age, doing everything needed to make him into the star he was today.

He knew nothing of hardship and disappointment…and feeling like your whole world was ending.

“You can’t make any mistakes. You can’t afford them,” he said. “You looked like shit out there. If you’re losing your edge...”

The threat hovered in the air between us—the threat of being demoted to a lower rank, or even getting kicked out all together. He didn’t have the same pull as Madame Leclerc, obviously…but any bad word from him certainly wouldn’t help my case. I’d been worried about him making drama for me if I turned him down for a date—I’d forgotten he could make my life harder in other ways as well.

If they demoted me and I made even less, there’d be no way I could make up for it.

Although, that would be the least of my worries if I was sleeping in the streets.

If I lost dance after everything else that I’d lost, I would die. That was the plain and simple truth.

“It was just a bad night. I’ll be better next class. I promise,” I told him, averting my eyes so I could avoid seeing the pity that was probably in his gaze.

His hand went to my arm and he rubbed it softly.

Alright, I hadn’t expected that. Especially with the ghosting he’d done the day of our date.

The universe must just really hate me.

Dance was very physical, obviously. Our instructors were always moving us around to show us proper technique.

And Dallon had always been...more physical than my other instructors.

But this was definitely on another level.

His hand went to my hip and he squeezed gently, and a nervous feeling slid up my throat.

“Is everything going okay?” He was staring at the gash still healing on my forehead and my black eye, his lips curled in disgust. I fought the urge to cover them with my hand.

This would be the time to tell someone what had happened. Not that Dallon would care, but maybe he’d know a couch I could sleep on or something. I could just tell him I’d lost my place…leaving out where my place actually was.

I even opened my mouth, the words at the tip of my tongue.

“I can help you with anything you need,” he continued in a low voice, and his hand was almost...massaging my hip.

The words died immediately.

“I think I’m okay,” I choked out. “A good night’s sleep and I’ll be right as rain.”

Right as rain...had I really just said that?

There was a burst of thunder outside, and suddenly, I was wondering how much sleep it would be possible to get...in the rain.

“You know...I think it would be good for you to get some more private lessons. To help with the upcoming show.”

I frowned. Besides that fall, I’d thought I’d been doing pretty well. How had I missed how badly I was messing up?

His hand slid lower on my hip and I stiffened.

“Free of charge obviously. We could do it at my apartment,” he continued.

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