Page 101 of Altius
“Everything okay?” Alijah asked, fidgeting with the corner of a page.
Joaquin raised a brow, looking at me expectantly. “Yeah, doc. What gives?”
Biting back a myriad of curses, I sank into the middle seat. Still blushing.
How unbecoming.
Where had the bold omega from my heat gone? Or had she been a drug-induced apparition, and I was just a weak shell—
“Morgan, what’s wrong?” Alijah asked, sounding as sweet as I knew he tasted.
Shut up, I told my traitorous brain. Just shut up and watch the ballet before you ruin this for Alijah.
“Nothing, but apologies in advance if I nod off. I’m still tired.”
“Me too,” he said with a soft smile. “But it’s a good tired. Right?”
Even the near-black hue of his eyes couldn’t mask his vulnerability.
A nod was the best I could do.
“Settle a dispute for us,” Joaquin said, pressing our shoulders together. “Who do you root for during the battle scene?”
“Well, that depends,” I said with a touch of hesitation. “Do you want me to be honest?”
“Oh, this bodes well for me.” Joaquin rubbed his palms together in anticipation.
Alijah rolled his eyes.
“You have to understand,” I said, “I’ve seen this balletdozensof times. Piper’s been in it every year since she was five or six. So, after a while…the pack of rat kings starts to look like they have more fun.”
“Unbelievable.” Alijah swatted my knee with the program. “Don’t tell me you think Drosselmeyer is creepy, too?”
“But he is,” Joaquin and I said simultaneously.
We exchanged looks of approval, then laughed. Even Alijah begrudgingly joined in.
Shifting closer to Alijah, resting my elbow on the armrest, I said, “Fun fact—Piper wanted a cat when she was little. A big,fluffy one, ideally with a snaggletooth, that she planned to name Uncle Drosselmeyer. Begged our parents for years until she realized she’d be responsible for cleaning its litterbox.”
“But he would have been adorable.” Alijah’s head canted toward mine. “That reminds me. I’ve been meaning to ask—do Kip and Tenny mean anything special?”
“Yes, they’re gymnastics terms. A kip’s a foundational element, kind of, for uneven bars. It involves flexing your hips to get up on the bar. Something you should master early on before you can connect one move to the next.”
“And Tenny?” Alijah asked softly, doing his best not to stare at my lips.
“His name’s actually Ten—as in perfect ten—but it somehow morphed into Tenny.”
“A beginning and an end,” Joaquin murmured. “I like that.”
“That’s one way to look at it. My thinking was more like…every goal requires a first step, even the unobtainable ones.”
The orchestra began playing the overture, drawing attention toward the stage. Younger children craned their necks to get a better glimpse of the instruments.
A few rows over, one confused little girl burst into tears, upset that she couldn’t see any ballerinas.
“You have nieces, right?” Alijah pressed closer, his voice just above a whisper. “Are they old enough to come to things like this?”
“No. They’re not even two yet.”
