Page 19 of Shadow Dance

Callum’s phone vibrates across the nightstand with a call. He rolls over, stretching to answer it. There was a time when his body was so beautiful to me, when he gave me butterflies. I pull the comforter to my chin and turn over, pretending to go back to sleep, and he disappears into the bathroom, taking his phone.

How do you separate yourself from someone whose life is so intertwined with yours? It’s like unbraiding a tightly woven tapestry where every strand represents a memory, a moment. Sometimes I panic and try to hold onto the fading, fraying edges, remembering how beautiful it used to be.

But it’s useless.

Callum and I have been unraveling for a long time.

I wake with a start,disoriented. The room is bright, blinds still wide open, but I can tell I’ve been out for a while. My body must have needed the rest. There’s a bag of weed on my nightstand and asprinkling of white, powdery residue on his. I look away from it, my stomach cramping with shame. I haven’t touched that stuff since the night we came home from our trip, but I hate that I ever touched it at all.

If Lucky and Tristan knew, they’d be so disappointed. My parents would be devastated.

And then there’s Jaime.

Once, months ago, I did a bump while Callum was having one of his parties. I figured if I had to put up with the chaos and the people and the bullshit, I might as well get high. Jaime, who was still new, came into the kitchen while I was making brownies from a mix.

I hated having a bodyguard, but I couldn’t make myself hate him. In fact, by that point, I’d developed a tiny crush … so I ignored him for the most part, talking to him only when it was absolutely necessary. There wasn’t anything else I could do. It wasn’t his fault for being good looking or mine for noticing.

Anyway, the party.

The music was loud, the house so full of strangers that I’d locked our bedroom door. The oven timer went off, so I leaned down to take the brownies out.

“Hey, Maeve. You got an extra lighter in here?”

I glanced up to see Jaime in the doorway, his arms braced against the frame. Straightening up, I set the brownies on the counter and faced him. “Probably.”

His dark eyes fell to my chest before he could catch himself, and when he raised them again, there was a charge between us that hadn’t been there before. I wasn’t wearing a bra under my little red tank top, and I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he wanted me. It was so unexpected. Desire swept through me, and my nipples hardened, drawing his gaze again.

The moment felt electric. Dangerous and delicious. Reaching into a drawer, I retrieved the lighter and walked over to him with a brazen smile. “Your lighter,” I said, dropping it into his hand.

The corner of his lips tugged up, like he couldn’t help but respond to whatever this was. But then he looked at me, really looked, and his smile faded. “Your eyes look wild right now.”

“What d’you mean?” I asked, turning to shut off the oven.

When I turned back around, he was gone. The euphoria that I’d beenfeeling seconds before evaporated. Taking my phone from my pocket, I opened the camera and turned it to selfie mode so I could use it as a mirror.

My pupils were huge, so huge I barely resembled myself.

It was the first time Jaime had ever expressed anything other than pure professionalism toward me. In less than a minute, he showed me what both attraction and disapproval looked like on him, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about either one.

For a while, I bounced back and forth between hiding it from him and not caring. After all, he wasn’t my man or my dad or anybody who got to have an opinion. He was a member of Callum’s crew, and he got paid to watch me. Who was he to judge? He and those boys got into way worse shit than a little coke. Deep down, though, I knew he was right to not like me like that. I didn’t likemyselflike that, so he was only reaffirming what I already knew.

The night on Grand Cayman was the last straw. Jaime seemed so disgusted and over my shit—I couldn’t do it anymore. I knew that if my brothers or Bria saw me high like that, they’d act the same way.

Ignoring the weed on my nightstand, I climb out of bed and pad toward the bathroom. It’s Saturday. No class today. No plans. I take a long shower, deep conditioning my hair and shaving my legs. I briefly consider finishing solo what Callum started this morning, but then decide I just don’t care enough.

The house is blessedly empty when I venture out. Making myself a cup of coffee, I wander around for a while, checking my socials, soaking in the view outside the living room window. I peek at Jaime’s place through the French doors, wondering what he’s up to.

We’re talking more now that he’s driving me to those classes in downtown Berkeley, and while it’s mostly just small talk, it’s an improvement over the mutually apathetic silence of before. Something changed when we were traveling, between us but alsoinme. I feel like I hit my own personal rock bottom and realized that I didn’t want to go out like that. I didn’t want to drown.

So, I woke up.

Setting down my coffee cup, I cross the patio before I can change my mind and knock on Jaime’s door.

“Just a second,” he calls from inside. Tucking my hands into theback pockets of my jeans, I stand back and wait. A moment later he opens the door, a folded newspaper in his hand.

“Hey, Maeve. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s good.” I smooth my tank top, my peaceful feelings shifting into nervousness. It’s so weird. I’ve spent months around Jaime trying to squeeze my attraction to him into something harmless and meaningless. It wasn’t like I could do anything about it—I’m in a long-term relationship. With his boss.

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