Page 4 of Daddy's Perfect Ballerina

“Just one,” I warn, attempting to sound stern. “I donotwant to get drunk in front of all your rich people friends and embarrass myself.”

He snorts. “They’reHenry’s‘rich people friends’, thank you very much.”

“Same thing,” I argue, but follow him as he leads the way.

“Definitely not the same thing,” he counters, giving me a wink. “My only real friend is right here, and he’s pretty uncomfortable around rich people despite being one.”

I roll my eyes. “We’ve been over this; I have dead-parents-money, not never-need-to-work-again-money.”

“Just teasing.” He gives me a playful grin and comes to a stop in the kitchen. Only a few people linger, talking amongst themselves and sharing drinks. “Tequila?”

I groan immediately. “Don’t even.”Is he trying to make me lose my clothes?He knows I can’t handle that stuff outside of a single margarita.

Noah’s head snaps back with the force of his laugh. “Champagne, then?”

“That’ll work.”

Snagging an already filled flute he passes it to me before picking one up for himself. He tilts his head to the side, silently telling me to follow him deeper into the apartment.

“So, I suppose congratulations are in order,” I start, walking up by his side. “You’re like a real adult now, living with your partner and whatnot. You’re basically one half of an old married couple, yeah?”

He snorts. “Oh, yeah. I’m a real grown-up now. I pay taxes from my big boy job, occasionally bake cookies for my boyfriend and everything.”

“Cookies?” I ask, drawing in my brows. “You haven’t bakedmeany cookies.”

“You don’t do the things Henry does to earn cookies.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and we share a laugh.

Finding ourselves in a small sitting room, we take a seat and slowly sip on our drinks. The couch is a deep coffee color, thankfully. If it were white I may refuse to sit on it. I’m as graceful as it gets on the ballet floor, but when it comes to regular life, I’ve been known to be clumsy.

“So, where is your lover then?” I ask, looking around the room, not catching sight of Henry’s familiar frame.

Noah sighs. “In his office. He’s been getting his ear chatted off all evening. I hadjustgotten ahold of him when another friend showed up. He and Henry are apparently discussing the team and a potential new coach.”

“And that had to be done now?”

Noah chuckles, joking, “Business never sleeps. But no, apparently Ezra’s brother may move to the area if he doesn’t extend his current contract, and Henry wants to give him an offer before it’s too late. So it’s actually pressing… why do you look like you’ve just swallowed your tongue?’

I blink twice, setting my glass on the table in front of us before I lose my shit and drop it. “Did you say Ezra? His last name wouldn’t be Jones would it?”

Noah’s eyes flicker with surprise. “Oh, wow, it is! How’d you guess that? Do you know him?”

“Ezra Jones isnotin this house right now,” I whisper-hiss, grabbing his arm.

Eyes widening even more, he leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Are you on the run from him? Is he a secret-mafia-hitman from your past that you’ve been trying to avoid all this time? Is your name not really Leo?”

His face is laced with such concern that I almost believe he’s genuinely worried—until he cracks a smile. “This is not funny!” I complain, trying not to sound whiny. “He’s really here?”

“Um, yeah? How do you know him, though? You seem positively spooked.”

“He’s…” I try to find the words, face heating.

“Oh!” Noah gives me a smirk. “Youlikehim, don’t you? Tell meeverything.”

“Keep your voice down,” I scold immediately, pulling him even closer. He’s practically in my lap now. “Ezra is…”

“Spit it out,” he gripes. “Anticipation gives me migraines.”

“His daughter is in one of my classes, and I’ve been stupid over him for months. I mean, I literally can not stop thinking about this man and you’ve just told me that he’s in your apartment. How the hell does Henry know everyone?”

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