Page 35 of Guarded Hearts
I’d held my tongue as Olivia had offered the rambling explanation, as though his protectiveness wasn’t laced with control. Secretly, I had wondered if he knew I’d do anything to find my sister someone better,more worthwhile. What would it take to get Olivia to see him in the right light?
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It’ll be good to see you again.”
If things went well, it would be months before I saw her if Olivia couldn’t visit. After looking at Sarah Telling’s schedule, I’d have four days between Mia’s wedding and the start of rehearsals for the next tour. Enough time for me to go home, sleep on the air mattress on my floor for a couple of nights, and then be gone again. I hadn’t let myself think too much about after the wedding. While having another job was great, I’d be leaving this one behind forever. There’d never be anotherMending HeartsTour, another dance rehearsal with Pasha.
Pasha.
Whatever we were doing would come to an end. The more time I spent with him, the more I wished these days could go on forever. These moments, this tour, constituted a bubble, and at some point, it would pop, dropping me back into my regular life. I just wanted to stay suspended for a bit longer. But no matter what I did, the pinprick would come.
Chapter Fifteen
Pasha
I’d watched theMending HeartsTour from the sidelines at least fifty times, not including rehearsals and the pop-up performances like the ones we’d done in the Midwest. At every one of them, Alyssa drew my gaze as though there were an invisible magnetic field around her. She glowed, and I wanted to bask in her light.
As the weeks had progressed, I’d come to understand and appreciate the dedication she had to dancing, to precision, to putting her whole heart into each performance. I didn’t mind when she corrected me in our sessions or demanded we give the step, turn, or lift another try. She wanted perfection, and I wanted to give it to her.
Not every concert on the tour went well—sometimes a costume snagged, a cue was missed, darkness bathed the stage when there should have been light, or someone forgot to remind Mia of the city. One of the dancers might stumble or forget a step, but those nights were rare. Most of the time, the show went off without a hitch, on autopilot.
Tonight, I’d been on edge. There’d been a shift in the air. In my role, my instincts had to be trusted. So I’d been tense on the sidelines, unable to enjoy the show, waiting for whatever was coming to hit so I could react.
When I’d caught a glimpse of Alyssa just before the show, she looked stressed, out of sorts, not full of the usual calmness that emanated from her. Maybe that was all this feeling was—I hadn’t been able to talk to her, to find out what had caused her mood.
Sometimes our secret was a treasure, something shiny just for us, and other times, it was a weight, bearing down, keeping me from giving the outward support I wanted to. Her behavior made me worried about her sister and whether something unexpected had happened to her.
The final song before the encores sprang to life, and across the stage, Alyssa waited for her cue. At the sight of her, my chest swelled with an emotion I’d avoided analyzing for the last few days. Being around her, now that we were together, made me happy. The tortured violence of pining for her was gone, replaced by an equally addictive euphoria. Everywhere I turned, she was there. And everywhere she was, my happiness bloomed.
On stage, the dancers rotated around each other. I frowned. Jazz had misstepped, ending up in Alyssa’s pathway just as she entered a complicated jump-and-spin combination. Alyssa was in midair, having gone into the jump blind. They were going to collide unless one of them made a quick correction.
My heart thudded, and I held my breath, torn between storming the stage and waiting to see if they’d avoid each other at the last moment. As she landed, Alyssa tried to sidestep Jazz, who seemed completely unaware of her mistake. Alyssa’s cry was overpowered by the music, but the agony on her face was clear as she fell to the floor.
I didn’t wait to see if she’d get up, didn’t let one of the physiotherapists discreetly help her off stage. I charged out like a bull and swept her off the floor and into the wings of the stage on the other side. She curled intome, her cries of pain muffled against my shirt. Tentacles of tenderness stretched across my chest.
As I ignored everyone crowding me, hearing the flurry of other security guards rearranging themselves backstage to compensate for my absence, I shouldered my way directly to the medical room. When I tried to set her on the bed to examine her, she clung to me.
I sank into a chair with her cradled in my arms. “What hurts?” I murmured into her hair, holding her close. She was tall and thin, and in my arms, she felt as light as an injured bird.
“My—my ankle.” She took a deep breath and pressed her face against my neck.
The skin-to-skin contact was a gift. Desire and protectiveness stirred in me. I’d carry her to the ends of the earth, shield her from any harm, take her pain, gladly.
The door behind us popped open, and the physiotherapist Mia kept on staff entered. Her name eluded me for a moment.
Emika.Japanese ancestry, if I was remembering our one conversation correctly. She was older, had a sturdy build and kind, dark eyes.
“Let’s take a look,” she said, nodding for me to put Alyssa on the bed.
I rose from the chair and eased her onto the cotton sheet, concern creasing my brow. Alyssa’s face was pinched with pain, and her breathing was labored, but no tears fell.
“Just a little twist.” Alyssa ran her fingers along the side of her ankle.
Emika laughed. “You’d be surprised how often I hearlittlefrom performers when the word they should be using isbig.” She cradled Alyssa’s foot with the shoe still on. “I have ice in the other room. I’ll go grab it. We’re going to want to send you for X-rays as a precaution. You’ve had ankle issues in the past, right?”
“What dancer hasn’t had some issue or other?” Alyssa glared at her.
“I’ll be right back.” A smile touched the edges of her mouth.
As soon as the door closed, Alyssa said, “It’s nothing. I mean, it’s sore, but it’s going to be fine. I overreacted.” She could barely get the words out through her clenched jaw.
