Page 65 of Meet Me in the Valley
Keeping a five-year-old still in their seat is a near impossible feat. One of the first solid memories I have from my childhood is being front and center at Nora’s dance recital. It wasn’t the first one I’d been to. Nora had been our tiny dancer since she was three and I was a little babe, chewing my fists as she commanded the stage as a toddler, according to my parents.
But the first recital I can recall was at Christmas time. I was a wiggly five-year old, hopped up on sugar cookies and hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, staring wide-eyed up at my big sister like she was the Sugar Plum Fairy herself.
Mom made us get to the show thirty minutes early to claim the best seats in the house—a few rows back from the front, right in the center. This well before cell phones and tablets to keep your little one occupied, so to keep me from having a tantrum, Dad played a game of “I Spy” with me around the auditorium.
As the house lights dimmed and the spotlight shined on Nora’s dance teacher to the side of the stage, my beaming smile might have been the brightest light in the room. There she was—my big sister in a sparkly white leotard with a matching white tutu. She looked like a literal angel.
My eyes spread wide as saucers, taking in the magic of it all. I practically had to stand on the edge of my seat to see over the bald guy in front of me. Dad noticed and perched me in his lap so I could watch Nora’s big solo.
I was mesmerized by her. She was only seven.
Now, as the lights dim in this grand Vegas theater, with Logan’s fingers intertwined with mine, I feel the same excitement and anticipation I did when I was five-years-old.
“Are you ready for this?” Logan asks, bringing my hand to his lips and ghosting kisses over my knuckles.
I know he’s asking if I’m ready to watch the show to see my sister dance for the first time since forever, but I hear a double meaning in his question. Am I ready for a relationship with Logan?
His words from earlier left an imprint on my brain—words I’ve been yearning to hear from him since I felt the connection between us spark into something bigger than our friendship. His touch and the way he kissed fire into me lit an inferno, burning brighter than the sun. I can’t hide it.
Yes, I’m ready. All in. No regrets.
“Yes,” I nod, beaming.
“God, you’re fucking stunning tonight. Kiss me,” he demands, cupping the back of my neck as he devours my mouth. I sigh into the kiss with butterflies in my belly, smiling against his mouth because it all feels so damn right.
My shoulders jump when the first beat of the music blares through the theater, breaking apart our heated make-out session. I’m blinded by flashing lights, stark white and blood red as dancers emerge from both sides of the main stage. The set is massive, with two smaller platforms on either side of it. Giant floor to near-ceiling screens make up the background, transporting me deeper into the illusion.
I’m entranced by the choreography, the bright lights, and the way each dancer’s body moves to the beat, undulating and free. As a single spotlight shoots onto the right side of the stage, accentuated by a heavy drum beat moving in time to my pacing heart, she snakes from the shadows into the light.
I lean forward to the edge of my seat—just as I did when I watched her as a child—my hand gripping Logan’s so tight he must be losing circulation, but he doesn’t dare let go or adjust. He lets me hold on to him for dear life as I watch my sister, in allher glory, emerge from the wings, sending a roar of cheers and applause vibrating throughout the entire theater.
I choke back a sob as my free hand flies over my mouth. “Look at her, Lo,” I breathe, tears streaming down my cheeks and past my chin.
“I see her. She’s beautiful, baby.”
Baby.It sounds like rich honey coming out of his mouth. It’s also a straight shot of arousal between my legs. I had to stop him from moving things further earlier in our hotel room before we ended up locked out of the theater doors for being too late. But my body hasn’t forgotten the things he was doing—and how it made me feel.
Wanted, desired,horny as fuck.
Now that he’s holding my hand and kissing me in public, I can only imagine the things he’ll do to me behind closed doors.
“She’s amazing. Exactly how I remembered her,” I whisper, more to myself than to Logan. My eyes follow Nora’s every move, tracking her across the stage. I think about how the stranger at the airport told me she’s seen this show three times because ofher.
I get it now. I truly do.
She’s there, right in front of me, moving freely with so much strength in every step and turn she makes. It’s as if all the resentment I’ve felt toward Nora falls away with each minute I spend watching her dance. Right now, I feel nothing but total adoration and unconditional love. Because when I see her dance, she’s not the “Vixen”—star of the Vermillion Sands spectacular show in Las Vegas.
She’s the seven-year-old ballerina dancing to the Sugar Plum Fairy in her white tutu with her family right there, in the best seats in the house.
Chapter Twenty-One
LOGAN
I’d say the show was amazing. Unforgettable.“An explosion of energy and artistry so intense, you’ll be electrified from start to finish,”as the critics say. Except my eyes couldn’t pull away from the awestruck expression on Tia’s face the entire time. Like a kid on Christmas morning, the whites of her eyes shined brighter, a literal sparkle flickering within her pupils. The wonder and admiration for her big sister was rolling off her in waves, and I simply couldn’t look away. She lookedso damn happyit made my chest ache.
We heard through a few locals we’d met outside the theater that the dancers frequent the hotel nightclub Verve, which primarily plays electronic dance music. Tia and I have been to our fair share of music festivals, from Austin City Limits to Coachella; sharing the same taste in music is one of the many reasons we have always been close. More often than not, I spent more time listening to records in Tia’s dorm room as we pulled all nighters for assignments. It’s where we grew our love for Stevie Wonder to My Chemical Romance and everything in between. Since living in the live music capital of the world, some of our favorite things to do together was to discover new artists at a dive bar, buy tickets to random concerts on a weeknight, andeat ice cream as we stumbled upon street musicians busking for tips.
I watch Tia pull the lever on the slot machine as the lights flash and the dials turn rapidly, a blur of bright colors reflecting off her eyes. Tia was hesitant to go to the nightclub tonight. I knew it had nothing to do with the actual club and everything to do with Nora.
