Page 22 of When Hearts Awaken

Lana narrows her eyes. “As if! Stick to bossing your students around!” Grace gives her a high five.

Ryland chuckles and rakes his fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair. “A smart man knows when to shut up when he’s outnumbered.”

“Where’s Maxwell?” Grace asks, looking for our oldest brother.

“In his cave, as usual—painting and brooding. Couldn’t drag him out.”

“But he’s the CEO. Shouldn’t he be here?”

“The frigid king doesn’t attendcommonerevents. This is why we have our prince here.” Rex claps Ryland on the shoulder and Ryland lets out an exasperated sigh.

Steven tips Grace’s chin up and whispers, “You want to stay for longer? I’ve cleared my plans for the evening. We can do some exploring.”

Grace flushes and bites her bottom lip, looking like she’s down for any exploring Steven has in mind. Suddenly, she freezes, and I know she’s thinking about me, because she looks my way with a question in her eyes.Do you want to come with us?

I shake my head and strain a smile. There’s no way I’ll be a third-wheel. “I have ballet practice. You guys have fun.”

“You sure?”

I nod and Grace pulls me into a light hug. “Okay, don’t work too hard, our next principal ballerina! Don’t be too good or everyone will hate you. No one likes a showoff.” She winks before sinking back into Steven’s embrace.

“Pssh. Competition only makes you work harder. They can eat my dust.” I dole out a lazy wink, pushing down a pinch of guilt for not telling her about what happened and my resulting demotion. Madame Renoir told me despite ABTC’s zero tolerance policy toward violence, Sir Ian really wanted to forget the snafu and they decided to give me another chance. But I was demoted from soloist to demi-soloist, which was lucky, all things considering.

It’s better to keep Grace in the dark. She’d ask questions if she knew. Questions I don’t want to answer because she still doesn’t know what happened to me that night. Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s PTSD from what Camden and Alexis did, or what the cops and therapist didn’t do. I don’t want her to look at me differently or handle me with kid gloves. I don’t want her to see me as damaged. I want to be the Taylor Peyton I used to be in her eyes. Maybe if she sees me as that person, then…

That person would still exist.

She cackles. “That’s my badass ballerina.”

Waving goodbye to my siblings and Steven, I head toward the elevators, the ball in my throat growing by the minute.

“Have you visited The Sanctuary?” a woman standing in front of the elevators asks her friend.

“I haven’t. Definitely planning to, though.” Her companion giggles. “Anything new on the Rose floors is always worth checking out. I tell you—the Anderson men are gentlemen in public but beasts in the sheets.”

I almost vomit in my mouth at the idea of my half brothers being anything in the sheets, but my ears prickle at the mention of the Rose floors. Grace told me they have rooms for every kink there—a voyeur lounge, a faux outdoor forest for doing the deed outside, glamorous strip clubs, private suites with special equipment and toys. There’s also a companionship service—men and women who sign nondisclosure agreements and provide anything from fake dates to the entire boyfriend/girlfriend experience with happy endings.

More hushed laughter echoes in the elegant foyer, and I glance at the ladies as we step into the spacious marble elevator. They eye my attire—bleached jeans and a black T-shirt—in distaste and look away as if they know I shouldn’t be here mingling with the likes of them.

But too bad for them. Being an Anderson earns me a lifetime ticket to do as I please. So screw them. Ah, the irony—my distrust for rich people before, but now I’m one of them.

Even so, pettiness feels so good.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare them down until they shift uncomfortably and look away. The elevator dings, indicating we’ve reached the ground floor. Hiding my smirk, I glance at the button panel as the doors open and the women scurry out. I follow them.

“Anything new on the Rose floors is always worth checking out.”Their words vibrate in my mind. My feet stutter to a stop.

I think back to the therapy books I’ve read over the last six years—putting myself out there, having a year of yeses, exposure therapy, overcoming tragedy and all the rainbows and butterflies to follow. It’s been six years. It’s time for me to reclaim my body and sexuality.

My skin breaks out in hives as cold sweat beads on my back.Saying yes to new experiences doesn’t mean checking out the Rose floors when you’re a survivor. Don’t be an idiot, Taylor.

The elevator doors start closing, and I stick my hand out to block them from shutting.

“Look at this slut asking for it. Let’s have some fun.”

My breath catches. I’m tired of it—of the past haunting me, never letting me go.

Visions of Grace smiling at Steven with hearts in her eyes. The way they fold into each other’s embrace.

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