Brooke

 

It’s been a long day. Teaching those little ones is so much fun, but exhausting. They love dancing though and that’s what makes it worth it at the end of the day. As I’m finishing up paperwork, one of the mom’s knocks on my door.

Looking up, I smile. “Hi Wendy.”

“Hi. I just wanted to thank you,” she says, fixing her purse strap.

“For what?”

Smiling, she steps closer to my desk. “For being such an incredible teacher. For taking the time you do with each of the girls and believe me I know it’s not easy. I’m so thankful you opened this studio, Amy has learned so much. So, I just wanted to thank you.”

There is no bigger compliment someone could give me. That was the whole idea when I opened this place, it was to get them excited about dancing and teach them the best I could. Knowing I’m doing that, well it’s amazing.

“It’s my pleasure Wendy. I love dance and I love instilling that love into the girls,” I say, pushing the finished paperwork out of my way.

“I’ve referred you to all my friends, so hope you’re ready,” she says, laughing. “Have a good one.”

With that she turns and leaves. My huge smile quickly disappears when I look down at my phone. There’s a text message from Pete. It reads ‘tick tock’. Fuck, I need to finish this with Owen or I’m going to lose everything.

This back and forth thing I keep doing, it needs to end. I need to remember that no matter how amazing he makes me feel, not just during sex, but when I’m around him, isn’t enough. But fuck it’s hard to let go of. I need to clear my head.

When I get home, I take a quick shower and when I get out I pick up my phone. Blowing out a breath, I dial and put the phone to my ear.

“Hey, you wanna meet me for a drink?”

 

**

 

Sitting at the bar, I order a vodka and cranberry. Just as the bartender slides my cocktail across the bar toward me, an arm wraps around me.

“Well look who finally has time for her best friend,” Olivia says.

She’s right. I haven’t given much time to my friends. Between the studio and Pete, I haven’t had much time for just having fun. I miss it and that’s why I need to talk to her, because Owen...he makes me remember what it’s like.

“Yeah I know I’m a shitty friend,” I say, lifting my shoulders.

“You are a shitty friend, good thing I like you. So what’s up?” She asks, sitting next to me.

Flagging down the bartender I turn to her. “How long do you have?”

“That bad huh? Well, I can’t help if you don’t tell me, so start talking.”

She doesn’t know exactly what I do for Pete, she thinks I just have drinks and talk. It’s not something I’m proud of and I don’t need to be judged about how I went about getting money for my dance studio. No one knows what I do, no one but me and that asshole Pete.

I tell her everything from trying to quit working for Pete, to the ‘job’ with Owen. Leaving out the details for sex because again, I don’t need to be judged. I’ve recently started judging myself enough.

“So, what’s the problem? You seem to like the guy,” she says, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears.

Searching her green eyes, I let out a sigh. “That is the problem. I can’t mix work and pleasure.”

She lets out a small laugh. “Brooke, you overthink shit. If you like the guy, who gives a shit what Pete thinks. Tell him you don’t want to do the job and walk away. Get a set of balls girl.”

“Okay first of all I don’t need balls, my vag is strong enough. But it’s not that easy to just walk away, you don’t understand.”

“You’re right I don’t understand, so explain it to me.”

The only way to explain it is to tell her the truth and if I do that, well all my secrets are exposed. I can’t do it, even with her. “I just need your help to figure out how to separate the business and pleasure. Please Olivia, help me.”

It’s pathetic. I feel pathetic begging her for help. It’s not who I am, I’m a strong independant woman. Everything I have I’ve gotten on my own. This whole situation is fucked up.

Turning to face me, she tilts her head. “You really like him don’t you?”

Shaking my head, I sip my drink. “He’s just fun to hang out with. We have fun, but I need to get my information and get out. I have you, you’re my friend.”

She laughs and picking up her drink. “Oh you swinging that way now?”

“What?” I yell, trying too hard to cover it up.

“Wow, you actually get men to tell you stuff huh? You can’t lie for shit. Obviously you’re screwing him.”

Groaning, I let my head drop to the bar. “Fine, I slept with him,” I mumble.

“You act like it’s a sin. Who cares who you screw. I’m not even sure why we’re still talking about this and you aren’t telling me what he looks like and how good the sex is,” she says, nudging my shoulder.

Turning my head on the sticky bar, I look up at her. “It’s messy, O. I can’t like him and do what needs to be done. You don’t understand, but it just can’t happen.”

“So walk away from both of them. If that’s what you want, just do it.”

“I can’t,” I whisper.

“You want to know what I think, well here it is. Tell Pete to fuck off and do what you want with Owen. You have a successful dance studio, you don’t need to have a second job. If he doesn’t like it, fuck him. What’s he going to do, fire you?”

She just doesn’t understand and why would she. She doesn’t know Pete could ruin me. But it does help. I know what I have to do. It might not be what I want to do, but I have to do it.

We spend the next two hours drinking and talking about everything that doesn’t have to do with my situation. I’ve missed my friend, more than I realized. After I get this taken care of, I’m going to make time for my friends again.

When I get home, I fall face first onto the couch. I’m so damn tired I could sleep right here. And just as my eyes start to close, my phone rings. Groaning I roll over and pull it out of my purse sitting on the floor next to me.

I debate answering for a minute, but my damn buzzed brain thinks it’s a good idea. “Hey.”

“Hey blue eyes, how are you?” Owen asks, his deep sexy voice sends chills down my body.

“Tired, what’s up Owen?” I ask, rolling onto my back.

“Nothing is up, I was just calling,” he says.

Closing my eyes, I rest my arm across them. “For what? I thought this was just fun,” I say, being a bitch.

“Having a bad day huh?” he asks, completely unphased by it.

“I’m tired Owen.”

“Oh it’s me. Well Brooke, when you’re in a better mood give me a call.”

With that he hangs up and I toss my phone. “Fuck.”

I’m fucking everything up. I can’t have him pissed at me, he’ll never tell me anything. Fucking Pete, I’ve never felt such hatred toward someone before. I need to take care of everything tomorrow. I need this nightmare to end.

 

**

 

Sitting on the couch, enjoying my morning coffee, I flip on the TV. No class today, I get to relax for a while. Considering I slept like shit, it’s a good thing. There’s a knock at my door and I check the time. It’s only eight in the morning, so I jump off the couch still in my long T-shirt I wore to bed. Opening the door, I want to crawl into a damn hole.

“Looking good, blue eyes,” Owen says with a wink. “Go get dressed.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, as he steps inside. Of course he looks amazing with his jeans and blue shirt. It brings out his damn eyes even more.

He crosses his arms, making his muscles flex and I kind of want to lean over and lick them. “I’m taking you somewhere. Now, go get dressed.”

Mimicking his position, I stare him down. “Maybe I have things to do today.”

“Maybe I already checked and I know you don’t. Stop wasting time, go get dressed before I rip that shirt off of you and we never get out of here,” he says, taking a step closer.

“Alright, alright. Damn,” I say, stomping up the hallway.

I don’t know why I’m acting like a small child. I’ve never had someone show up on my doorstep and tell me to get dressed because they have plans. His demanding way just makes it that much more exciting.

Seeing that he is wearing jeans, I slip mine on and grab a pink tank to go with it. Fixing myself to look at least halfway decent, I walk back into the living room. Owen is sitting on the couch, texting on his phone, but as soon as he hears me he lifts his head.

With a smile slipping into place he tucks his phone away. “See that wasn’t so hard was it?”

“Where are we going, Ace?”

“Oh, I’m back to Ace huh? You done being pissed at me?” he asks, ushering me out the door.

Turning my head to look at him, I feel like a bitch. “I wasn’t pissed at you, I was tired.”

“I’d rather you be honest than give me that line,” he says, hitting the button for the elevator.

Honesty isn’t going to work here. So I once again lie. “You got me at a bad time. I had a shitty day at work and drank a little too much. I took it out of you.”

Kissing my temple, we walk into the elevator. “Let’s fix that.”

Once in his car, we drive but he refuses to tell me where we’re going. I’ve stopped asking at this point because he won’t give an inch, it’s pointless.

“How’d everything go the other night? It was business I’m assuming,” I say, trying to see if he’ll give me anything.

Turning his head briefly he grins. “It was business and it went great.”

Damn, he’s a stubborn ass. “That’s good,” I whisper and look out the side window.

“Hey,” he gently says, and I turn my head to him. “Business talk is boring and I’m not about to bore you with it. It’s good deal, something I’ve been waiting for, okay.”

“Okay Ace,” I say, with a small grin. Looks like I might be able to get something out of him after all.

Shortly after, he pulls into the Juilliard School. “We’re here,” he says, driving to park.

My heart is pounding in my chest because if I could have afforded it, this is where I would have come to school. This is where I wanted to come, to try to further my dance career. I have no idea what his plan is, but this right here, melts my heart a little bit.

“What are we doing here?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off everything around us. I feel like a damn kid on Christmas, bouncing in my seat ready to explode with excitement.

Parking the car, he turns to face me. “I thought you could use a day of dancing with some people your age.”

“Wait, what?”

He pushes my hair off my face and smiles. “You teach and you get to dance by yourself. It got me thinking, when was the last time you got to dance with people your age. So I made some phone calls, and today you’ll be dancing.”

I don’t even feel it until it’s too late, but a tear rolls down my cheek. The thought that he put into this, it’s beyond anything anyone’s ever done for me. “Ace, I don’t even know what to say.” I quickly wipe the tear and look out up to prevent more from coming.

“You don’t need to say anything, but you do need to get your ass out of the car because they are waiting for you,” he says, smiling as he wipes another damn tear.

We get out of the car and head toward what I assume is where I will be dancing. Holy shit, I’m going to be dancing at Juilliard. Looking over at him, my heart picks up. Maybe he’s not as big of an entitled prick as I first thought.