Emmett watched as Elle carefully placed a key into the lock of the wooden door in an alley between two buildings downtown. He didn’t need to see the front of the building to know where they were. Elle had spent more time at the dance studio when they were growing up than he had, but he’d come to see her practice here his fair share.

Turning until the lock clicked open, Elle ushered him inside the dark building.

“After you,” she smiled, holding out her arm.

Emmett stepped inside the dark room, allowing his eyes to adjust to his surroundings.

Elle closed the door, submerging them into total darkness. A small light beamed from her phone as she pointed it toward the ground and pulled him through a maze of hallways. They moved so fast, Emmett couldn’t focus on any one thing except for the white linoleum floors. She came to an abrupt stop, her light cutting off as Emmett slammed into her back.

He laughed at her cloak and dagger act. “Elle, what’s going on? Why are we here?”

She dropped his hand. “Shhh, just wait here.”

Emmett’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and he could make out a few pieces of what looked like furniture in the dark. Suddenly, a bright light clicked on. He raised a hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the glare. “What the hell, Elle, a little warning would be nice.”

“Sorry,” she laughed, not sorry at all.

“Sure you are,” he grumbled.

After a few moments, Emmett’s eyes finally came into focus. He glanced around the space, spotting the familiar L-shaped counter that stood in front of him and purple side chairs that lined either wall next to him. He remembered waiting in those chairs for Elle to finish a class.

Elle stood in the center of the small area, her arms spread as wide as the smile on her face. “This is, or was,” she corrected, “Cecilia-Marie Payne’s Dance Academy,” she said.

He shook his head with amusement. “I know that. But what are we doing here? I remember vividly that you bitched about Ms. Cecilia every day after practice, promising never to return.”

Elle laughed. “True, but I only bitched after the really hard sessions—our private ones.”

“Which were all of them, after the age of ten, Elle. You were so talented, the lady couldn’t let you be.”

Elle remained quiet and Emmett studied the room again. The walls were painted a light lavender and he noted there was a computer and small office supplies sitting on the desk behind the counter.

“What if I bought it?” Elle blurted out.

Emmett jerked around, staring at her in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

Elle nodded, raising her fingertips to her lips. “Yes,” she squeaked out, trying to hold in her excitement.

“You’re serious?” Emmett asked again.

She nodded again. Her hand fell away and she caught her lips between her teeth as if unable to say more.

“I didn't even know you were dancing again,” Emmett said

“I wasn't.” Elle stepped toward him. “Until I saw you again.”

Emmett shook his head in confusion. “That’s only been a little over a week.”

“Actually, it was almost 3 months ago,” Elle said, “at your father’s funeral.”

Emmett’s eyes held hers. “What are you talking about?”

“I was at your father's funeral,” she said.

“My father’s funeral?” He repeated her words as if saying them out loud would make them more believable. “But,” he stuttered, searching his memory of that awful day. “I didn't see you there,” he said. He’d wanted to. He’d had the crazy thought all throughout that day that having her there would have made things easier.

“That's because I didn't want you to see me.” Elle said quietly.

“Why?” He stepped closer.

“I knew you were going through a lot that day. I didn't want to make things worse. We hadn't seen each other in several years, and I knew you would be angry with me. Maybe even hated me.” She shrugged.

“I would have liked to see you,” Emmett said, thinking back to the pain that he hadn’t really known how to deal with. “It was awful, one of the worst days of my life. Just knowing that you were there would have made me feel better. But I understand why you didn’t approach me. Who knows, maybe I would have been angry to see you.” He shrugged. He might have lashed out at her, his emotions were that screwed up. In fact, they had been since he’d come home.

Her eyes were soft, as though she understood his warring emotions. “I wanted to see you, to hug you and tell you how sorry I was.”

Emmett could feel his chest tightening and knew they shouldn’t keep going down this road. He was already feeling the pull toward her more than he wanted tonight. The whole evening, he’d been fighting the physical draw she had on him. “I don’t want to talk about all that now,” Emmett said, “I want to see your dream. Tell me about the school.”

Elle’s face lit, something he hadn’t seen a lot of lately. He would do anything in his power to bring back that girl, the Elle of his youth, the one who dreamed big and thought anything was possible.

“This is the reception area of the studio. My studio,” she added with a giggle that sounded like she was twelve.

“You really want to do this, don’t you?” Emmett asked.

She nodded. “Yes,” she squeaked out in a not-so-positive tone. “I really do. Actually, I already have.”

“What?” Emmett bellowed in surprise. “When you asked me what I’d think if you bought it, I thought you meant you were thinking about it. You already did it?” Emmett’s eyes widened but he beamed with pride and the question was more an exclamation than query. She was unsure but confident as if needing his approval. “Show me the rest, Elle. I want to see your dance studio.” His face split into a wide grin. His Elle was still full of surprises.

Elle took hold of his hand and tugged him around the counter and down a long hallway, filled with huge windows on the left. The dance rooms, just as Emmett had remembered. He’d spent countless hours at this studio, watching Elle dance, mesmerized by her gift. Even then, he knew on some level, her dancing would take her away from him.

“Slow down,” Emmett called out.

She glanced behind him and giggled. A bubble of laughter welled up within him and he joined in her excitement and anticipation.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “it’s just, I'm so excited to share this with someone.”

“You mean you haven't told anyone else?”

Elle shook her head. “Only you,” she answered quietly.

He pulled her to a stop, pulling her to face him. “Why me?” he asked.

“You inspire me.” Her answer was quick and simple and so like Elle. “You've always inspired me.”

Emmett stared at her beautiful blue eyes, captivated and moved by her admission. “You've always inspired me too, Elle. You always made me believe I could do anything. That's probably why I haven't been able to write anything worth shit in….” Now wasn’t the time to wallow in his own self-pity.

“I'm sorry, Emmett,” she said.

“Don't say sorry.” He tugged her to him, squeezing her tight. It was amazing how Elle made him feel invincible, like he could take on the world, and win. He kissed her cheek, his lips hovering over her ear. “Show me your dream.”

* * *

Elle leaned back, staring into Emmett’s hazel brown eyes. Her face hurt, she’d been smiling so much. She squeezed his shoulders then pulled from his embrace, afraid she’d lean in and kiss him if she stayed. Turning on her heels, she practically skipped down the hall, pointing to one door on her right.

“Inside there is the stairway that leads to the balcony upstairs where parents sit.”

“I remember,” Emmett said.

Elle’s heart squeezed and she felt light headed. Despite the ribbing he got from his friends and family, he had come to watch her practice many days. Sometimes, she wouldn’t know he was coming to see her, but something would whisper in her ear and she’d look up to find him watching her. She would ask him what he was doing there. He’d shrug and give her that lopsided grin and say he’d had a bad day or he was bored. Something always told her it was more than that. At least she hoped it was.

She shook her head, releasing the memories. “There’s also an office and a small studio apartment,” she said.

“For real? I never knew that. Didn’t Ms. Payne have a house on some land outside town?”

“Yes,” Elle nodded, leading them down the corridor. “But sometimes practices ran late so she would stay in town. Her husband insisted and converted the space for her.”

“That was nice. I wouldn’t want you driving around the mountain late at night either.”

Elle glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Okay, so here is the changing-slash-dressing room. It’s a mess so we’ll skip that.”

“I’m sure you’ll fix that as soon as you take over.”

Elle laughed. She did tend to be a bit on the OCD side and Ms. Payne was not the tidiest of people. “Probably.”

She continued moving down the hall. “Okay, so this is one of three classrooms.” She opened the door and stepped inside, inhaling the familiar scent of the polish used on the wood railings.

Her mind was flooded with images of her childhood, fond memories of learning the craft, hours spent training to create a profession she eventually had to let go of because of cancer. But not anymore. She was about to reclaim a part of that career, a part of her dream.

Emmett clicked on the overhead light, illuminating the studio. “What are you smiling about?”

Elle touched the side of her mouth, unaware she’d been smiling. “Nothing.”

“Oh, it’s something all right.” Emmett’s lips spread into a wide smile.

Gaining the strength from being in Emmett’s presence again, she drew away and reached inside one of the cubbies along the back wall. She turned on the sound system and synced her phone, pulling up a song she’d choreographed a dance to while at Tisch almost ten years earlier. It had been her final project in creative dance her sophomore year and she’d received the highest honors, showcasing the dance at the end-of-year performances.

Now was time to share everything with Emmett—her hopes, her dreams, her heartaches, her fears. Everything. She prayed her dance would say what she couldn’t.

She’d started dancing again a few months before, after she’d seen Emmett at his father’s funeral, and had worked hard to strengthen her body. She was rusty and still not in peak shape, but the moves came back as easily as breathing. She wouldn’t be able to do a whole performance any longer, she didn’t have the stamina for that, but she needed to dance. Dancing was a part of her soul, and so was Emmett.

“What are you doing?” he asked, coming near.

She sat on the floor, wiggling her toes into her toe pad before slipping her foot into the pointe shoes. Tights would have been best but Elle didn’t plan on dancing long, only one song actually.

He squatted next to her. “Are you going to dance?”

Elle smiled at the near-reverence in Emmett’s voice but remained quiet as she concentrated on lacing her shoes. She tied a knot and secured the ribbons as she’d done thousands of times before. A flutter of nerves tangled in her stomach. It’s only Emmett, she reminded herself, but that just made the butterflies worse.

Elle stretched her limbs, warming up at the barre as she willed the butterflies in her stomach into submission and let her muscles warm up. She could feel Emmett’s gaze on her, see the heat in his eyes when he watched her in the mirror.

“Will you help me?” she asked, turning and putting out a hand to him. She had a feeling he didn’t realize what kind of help she was going to ask for. When he nodded and took her hand to pull her to standing, she motioned with a nod to the center of the room. “Go stand in the center and face the mirror,” she instructed, pointing to the spot where she wanted him on the floor.

Their eyes connected for several seconds before he finally moved.

Elle walked toward the sound system in the studio, glancing over her shoulder, not surprised to see Emmett facing her.

“Turn,” she said, circling her finger and adding in the hint of the instructor tone she’d mastered in her time at Tisch. In a fashion uncommon to Emmett, he obeyed with no opposition. Elle smiled as she looked down at her phone. Josh Groban’s “February Song” was loaded and ready to go.

With a shaky hand, she pushed the play button and took her place on the floor, preparing for what felt like the performance of her life.