Page 172 of The Breaking Pointe
“Why hello there, beautiful.” He deepens his voice, pulling me close as soon as he can reach my body, giving my jaw a soft kiss.
Now my mind is running a race I can’t keep up with. “Hi,” I nearly whisper, softly wrapping an arm around
him.
“How was the academy today?” he asks, pulling himself away, but leaving a hold on my waist.
“Good. Normal. I think I’m ready for the show.” I nod. “That’sgreat.Ican’twaittoseeyoudothejumpthing.
It’s so cool.” He smiles, raising his arms to rub my shoulders firmly before he steps away to grab an apple from the basket on the counter.
“The jump thing?”My brows raise in curiosity at his choice of description.“It has a name, Cole.”I begin to giggle. “Yeah,” he says before biting into the apple. “But I don’t know it.I just know you can do it, and that I can’t, and that
makes you way cooler than I’ll ever be,” he says with a few chews in between.
Smiling a bit, I watch him. “I’m gonna make dinner, you know.You don’t have to snack all night anymore.I feel better.”
“I’m a big man, Elle.I’m always hungry.I would never refuse a meal. Are you sure, though? I uh—I had something in mind tonight,” he says, taking another bite.
“Well, I miss it.So let me cook,” I tell him, standing firm in my decision.
What man doesn’t want his girlfriend to cook for him? Just let me, dammit.
His eyes wander at my face, and he softens his expression. “Okay. That’s alright with me.”
Now I can see all the dust and debris on his clothing with a better eye.It’s paint and wood particles.Mostly paint, though.
“So,” I begin, lifting my hands to take my hair out of its bun, “how was training? And whatever else it is that you’re doing, art wise?” I trail off my last sentence.
“Training is fine. It’s the usual thing. But I feel like you care more about the second part.”He nervously chuckles.
“I’m a little curious, I won’t lie. You seem really invested, and you haven’t spoken about it in months. At first I didn’t think about it. Now I do,” I confess,= sheepishly.
He finishes chewing and clears his throat, nodding as he observes me while I speak.
“Okay.I think that’s a valid thing to say.And I don’t want you to think that I’m keeping secrets from you. Cause I’m not.It’s a city project.I’m doing my share.It’s for a good cause, and when we finish—which is sooner than you
think—you can see it for yourself.Promise,” he clarifies, making sure he keeps his gaze on me.
Communication is so simple for him. He doesn’t make it scary, or drag it out.He just says all the right things, and eats his apple like a sexy lumberjack.I don’t have any opportunity or reason to ever be mad.
“I believe you. I just wanted to know,” I remark, returning to my somber state.
“What’s up with you, huh?” he asks, now returning to his apple and his nonchalant Staten persona.
“What do you mean?” I probe, watching him take a peek at the newspaper on the dining table.
He’s possibly the only man in his twenties who reads them. “You’re all uh—off. Not yourself, you seem off. Something is different.You tell your man what’s wrong, and I’ll fix it?” he offers.
“Cole,” I take a breath and force myself to say how I really feel, “it’s not fine.I have questions.I didn’t at first, but I see the pattern. You come home every day and you aren’t dressed for training at all, Colton.” I rub my temples gently before tossing some fingers through my hair. “I trust you, so please don’t keep anything from me—I’m literally begging you, please.”
He leaves the newspaper be, and turns his head to me again. “Noelle, it isn’t me trying to lie, or be deceitful on purpose, I…”
He takes a last bite of his apple, tossing it in the garbage before washing his hands.“I know you say I can’t fix it, but I want to convince you otherwise. I need to show you. I can’t tell you.”
He finishes the quick wash and dries his hands, gaping at
me. “Okay…” I bite my lip, wondering what he’s alluding to. “Come on,” he insists, glancing at me as he takes my hand, leadingmedownthehall,backtothefrontdoor.Hepicks
