Page 82 of How to Dance

“Too many steps at my place.”

He glanced at her. “I don’t have to stick around.”

Her eyes came up to meet his. “I’d like it if you did.”

23

Nick stole a few glances at Hayley as he drove through the city, but she only stared blankly at the dashboard. She was huddled as if she’d been thrown into the seat, like she would have fallen out of the car had her door not been closed. Nick resisted the urge to take her hand when they stopped at a traffic light.

He’d known something like this was going to happen. If he’d taken his cues, stayed in his lane, then he never would’ve hurt her. He would never have tried to tell her how he felt, because he would’ve killed those feelings. The key to being loved was being exactly what people wanted—no more, no less. Get comfortable, lose focus, take chances, and those people would leave. He’d braced for her to leave.

Now Hayley was right here, crumpled in the passenger seat, and it felt like he was losing her all over again.

He hadn’t known anything at all, had he? Nothing about the breakup, nothing about how she’d react to him falling, and not a damn thing about how to save her from whatever was going on behind her eyes. Hayley looked like her brain was flooding herbody with the toll of every wound she’d ever endured, and Nick couldn’t make a shred of difference.

“Can you sing?” she murmured.

Nick was relieved to hear her voice. “Now?”

“Yes. You didn’t get a chance to sing tonight.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does.” Hayley closed her eyes. “I didn’t get to hear you.”

She wanted him to sing. Hayley Burke was asking him to bring her back to life doing the one thing he knew he couldn’t ruin.

Nick smiled.

24

Hayley was afraid to move. Nick sang the entire way to his apartment, and she stayed exactly as she was, hoping the peace inside this car would find its way inside her if she didn’t disrupt it. When he took the key from the ignition, she slid out of the car to get the walker before he could object.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

She told herself not to reach for him. He got from the seat to the ground, shut the door, hit the lock button on his keys, and still she waited patiently, her duffel bag slung over one shoulder. She finally slipped her arm around his waist when he started toward his building.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Let me.”

Two or three steps led directly to his door from the sidewalk, and she’d left that way the morning they’d agreed to be friends. But tonight they took the ramp next to Nick’s parking space, walking the width of the building and around the corner toreach his front door. It suddenly seemed unacceptable that Nick had to travel this extra distance every day. He had to work harder than everyone just to go home, he was limping now because of her, and none of that seemed to bother him. If he wasn’t going to be angry, Hayley wanted to do it for him, wanted to scream to the world that this man shouldn’t have to put up with steps and shopping malls and people like her. She wasn’t reaching for Nick because he needed her help. She had her arm around his waist becausesheneeded to helphim.

Nick headed for the kitchen as soon as they were inside, and Hayley dropped her bag on the floor.

“You want something to drink?” he asked.

“I’m good,” she said.

“Okay.”

He kept moving, but not to find a glass. She watched him as he added items to the top of his silver food cart: first a stack of Hershey’s bars, then a giant bag of M&Ms, then a container of chocolate ice cream from the freezer. When he was done, he looked at her and nodded toward the cart.

“What …?” She trailed off.

“Chocolate. Candy bars, M&Ms. I wasn’t sure about the ice cream, but it seemed like a safe bet.” He looked apologetic. “I thought—hoped you might come back.”

---