Page 70 of The Breaking Pointe
He takes a sip, ignoring my warning, but overpowering the heat from the drink and downing a few sips as if it were ice cold. Eyeing his actions, I stand there in silence, connecting both my hands to fumble with my fingers.
His mug lowers from his face, landing on the counter again. “You seem a little more perplexed by my presence than usual. Did I do something?” he asks me.
“No, it’s not you—it’s uh…nothing.”I force my lips to curl up into a smile.
He doesn’t look amused or convinced in the slightest. “If it’s not me, is it somebody else?”He runs his fingers
alongtheringofhismug.
It’s somebody we both don’t want to deal with, that’s for sure.
“I’m tired. I fell while I was practicing at the studio a few days ago, and I’m still feeling a little weak. I’m fine, though, and Lauren helped me,” I lie.
“What happened, did you go to the hospital?”His eyes darken as he somberly looks into mine and waits for my excuse.
“No, it’s a little fall, Cole.”My smile becomes genuine. “My back does hurt a little bit still and I bruised my arms, but it happens when you’re a dancer. Falls happen, I mean.” It’s nice to know he genuinely cares about my well-being,
at least.
“You’re walking around the city so extensively, Noelle, you have to heal.”
“I am healing. But money is scarce. I have to show up for every shift, right now.”
I wouldn’t imagine he has to struggle like I am, at this moment in life. But I know he once knew what it felt like. So he knows that it doesn’t matter the circumstances—I have to make sure I’m working at all times.
“Sure, I understand.”He nods, taking a deep breath before he continues.“Let me help you?At least let me drive you around when you need—”
“I can’t use you like that,” I cut him off. He pauses, stunned for a moment.
“I don’t want to be a liability to anybody else in this life. I like what we have, and—I like you. I don’t want to ruin that by taking advantage of you,” I explain, pressing my palms down on the counter between us.
“If you like what we have, and you like me so much, then can I ask you to please let me show you how devoted I am to you?” he asks, resting his hands over mine as he leans his face in.
Whatever anxiety I was feeling seconds ago is now re- placed with longing—for his lips, to be exact.He has no idea how good it feels that someone isn’t forcing me into anything but rather asking for my permission to be included in my lifestyle, like it’s some privilege.
“Sure, if that’s what you want,” I whisper.
“That’s what I want, Noelle,” he assures me, nodding and swooping his head around to press his soft lips against my cheek, his beard rubbing against my skin as he lingers.
Frozenintime,Iobservehimashepullsawayandgets
back to drinking his coffee.I bounce my attention to a nearby clock then back at him, noticing the time.
“I’m actually gonna be ending my shift in thirty minutes. I’m gonna take the train,” I say, still stumped in place.
“No train.I’ll wait for you.I have to stop at this Italian joint nearby, but if you’re down for the ride, I’ll get you home,” he insists.
“Are you sure? Do you have to be somewhere?” I inquire. “Well to be frank, I have to be at my mother’s dinner table by six-thirty or I’m in for a good talking to.But I’ll make it.”
He chuckles.
Humming and smiling, I stare at his dark, curly locks. Some more corkscrewed than others.
“What are you guys having?”I ask.
“She wants risotto and cutlets from her favorite market. That’s where we’re gonna stop before I take you home…” he says, sounding unsure now.
“What is it?”I question him.
