Page 47 of Teach Me to Fly

“Reign,” he sighs. “It breaks the scale.”

Hours later,Angelique walks out of her room, dressed for the day. She’s wearing tight acid wash jeans that make her ass look phenomenal, and a black long-sleeved top. Her hair is half up, half down, pinned back with a clip.

I couldn’t sleep at all after my conversation with Lando. I came back to the guesthouse and paced outside her room for over an hour before forcing myself to go to my bed and stare at the ceiling for the rest of the night. As soon as the sun rose high enough to colour the sky, I got ready for theday, and I’ve been sitting in the living room waiting for her to wake up ever since.

“Good morning,” she says, turning the kettle on.

I stare at her, still deciding if I should bring up the sleepwalking, but after remembering how spooked she got when I told her about her screaming in her sleep the other night, I decide against it—for now.

“You look rested.” I force a smile.

She pauses and studies my face. “I didn’t have another nightmare, did I?” she asks.

“Nah,” I say, swallowing down the words I really want to say. “Did you see the email I forwarded you from Terry?”

I stand from the couch and take a seat across from her at the island.

She nods. “I watched some of the videos while getting ready. Are we going to practice the new choreo together today?”

I shake my head. “I was actually thinking we could go on a—” I pause.

A date? Hell no, not using that word.

“A what?” she asks, looking at me with an arched brow as she pours the water from the kettle into a mug, a tea bag floating to the surface.

“A…field trip,” I say through gritted teeth, when no other words come to mind.

“A field trip?” Her lips twitch as she watches me. “Okay. Where to?”

“You’ll find out when we get there,” I say, standing up. “Finish your tea and meet me in the car.”

“Okay,” she replies, watching me stalk out of the house.

I climb into my car, glaring at the steering wheel. “A fucking field trip, really?” I mutter to myself.

Chapter 15

Angelique

Istare up at the weathered sign of Sugar & Son, the ice cream shop in Marlow that I used to visit with my father before he died. The sun-faded letters, the chipped edges of the hand-painted board… it hasn’t changed. Not even a little. It’s like the place has been held in time, waiting for me to come back.

My throat tightens, heat pressing behind my eyes as memories rush in—my father's laughter echoing through the small shop, the way he used to pretend to taste test my cone and then steal a bite. I wish he was still here.

“You wanted to go on a trip to Marlow… for ice cream?” I ask, my voice catching slightly as I swallow the knot forming in my throat.

“This is just the first stop.” Reign rubs the back of his neck and follows my gaze up to the sign. “We can leave. If you’re not up to trying this place out.”

“No,” I say, too quickly. “No, it’s fine. Let’s go.”

I push open the door before I can change my mind, and a soft chime rings out as we enter, the smell of sugar and waffle cones wrapping around me. It’s too much and notenough all at once. My skin prickles with unease at being in such a familiar place after so long.

Reign steps in and stands beside me at the counter, both of us staring up at the hand-written chalk menu. I already know what I want—double chocolate ice cream in a chocolate cone. My usual. My father used to joke that it was the one constant in the universe.

“Do you know what you’re getting?” I ask, my voice low, trying to sound casual.

Before he can answer, a man walks out from the back, wiping his hands on a towel. He stops mid-step when he sees me, a flicker of disbelief crossing his features. He blinks hard, then rubs his eyes before blinking again.

“Is that really you, Angelique?” Phil, the shop owner, asks while pulling off his apron and hurrying around the counter.

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