My arm ached. When I changed the bandage, it didn’t look too bad. I got the tetanus shot, anyway, and I didn’t go into work for a few days. Craig yelled at me over the phone. Even though he didn’t fire me, I figured I’d better get off my butt. The wound had pretty much healed aside from a scab, and I had a job to get back to and a dance routine to choreograph.

After an exhausting day of work, my arm only stinging a bit, I decided to head to the gym. Even if I couldn’t push myself, I could still stretch and work on a few more bars for my audition piece. It was only October, I had months until my audition, but I wouldn’t blow it this time.

Nico gave me a quick hello before he disappeared, mumbling something about mopping. I went upstairs and shrugged off my hoodie. Bronwyn had a small speaker shaped like a pig that she let me borrow, so I brought that along, plugging in my phone and turning on the music. I stretched for about fifteen minutes, being careful with my arm, then I got to my feet, switched the music to “Song of the Caged Bird” and got to work.

I’d already choreographed the first sixteen bars, and I went through them a couple of times, but I wasn’t happy with it. I replayed the music and paced, lost in my choreography. What I had was too sterile, emotionless. I closed my eyes and marked it again, tweaking a few steps. I was scared of moving my arm too much, so I kept it down by my side at first. Then it came to me, how to use that in the choreography, at least for a few bars.

I went over it again, added another eight bars, and repeated the steps until they felt natural. Until I didn’t have to think about what I was doing anymore. By now I was sweating, and I went to my phone to restart the music one last time. I caught something out of the corner of my eye, something that hadn’t been there when I started.

I turned and there was Jay Thornton, arms crossed, leaning against Nico’s door. He was looking at me with an unreadable expression.

“Are you here to see Nico?” I didn’t know how long he’d been watching me, but it was unnerving. When I danced, I got lost in my own world and barely noticed anything else going on around me.

“No.”

Silence stretched thin between us. I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what he wanted, if he wanted anything, or if he was just there to intimidate me. And then I realized.

“The money.” Of course it was about the money. I’d missed the deadline. But no one had come to my door. No one had followed me down the street when I went to work this morning. This was it though, he was coming to collect and I couldn’t pay. I’d missed my bank appointment convalescing.

Jay pushed himself off the door. “I talked to Simon. He gave you another two weeks.”

I tried not to show my surprise. “How kind of him.”

Jay was right in front of me. I rubbed the sweat from the back of my neck.

His eyes went to my arm. He reached out and rubbed his thumb over the scab, what was left of my bullet graze. “I never thanked you for saving my life.”

I turned away. “I didn’t save your life.”

He was behind me, his breath on the back of my neck. “If you hadn’t gone outside, I would’ve been shot. And they would have been more careful with their aim.”

I didn’t want his thanks. I didn’t want to feel the hardness of his chest on my back. Definitely didn’t want to lean into it. I moved away again but turned to face him. “It wasn’t a big deal. I would’ve done it for anyone.”

He let out a short, wild laugh. “Maggie, you got shot. Because of me. Don’t act like it’s nothing.”

He was taking this way too personally. I tightened my ponytail, then winced at the twinge in my arm. “I thought it was just a graze?”

He snorted. “You got lucky. It could’ve been much worse.”

“Not lucky. Blessed.” I said it before I could stop myself.

He raised an eyebrow. “You think God saved you?”

I walked to my bag. My body had gone cold, sweat freezing on my skin. I pulled my hoodie back on. I didn’t want to talk about God with Jay Thornton. “Speaking of thank yous, I never said thank you for making sure I got fixed.” I waved at my arm. “And taking me home.” I barely remembered that part, but I was pretty sure it involved me inhaling the scent of his skin as he carried me to my bed. My cheeks burned.

“Maggie.” Jay was there again, right in front of me. Too close. He took my hand. Both our palms were slick with sweat. I looked up at him.

“Maggie Hale,” he repeated. His other hand cupped my cheek. There was an expression on his face I’d never seen before. Hopeful, unsure, and something else. Desire?

My lips parted in surprise. And then his head tilted and his mouth merged with mine. Just like that, he was stealing my breath. His lips were soft, practiced. My heart was in my throat. The taste and feel of him was intoxicating. My whole body tingled, wanting to give in. I pushed him away with my good arm.

“What are you doing?”

He blinked. “I—”

“Your thanks was enough.”

“Are you serious?” His eyebrows lowered. “You think I kissed you because I’m grateful?”

Wasn’t that why he was here, looking all mournful at my scab like it was his fault I’d been shot? Which it sort of was. But I didn’t need his gratitude, and I definitely didn’t want his lips.

Without thinking, I grabbed my bag with my bad arm then hissed at the sharp shock of pain, dropping the bag to the floor. Jay was there, bending down to pick it up. He placed it over my shoulder and my lips tightened.

“I appreciate having more time,” I said. “But if you think getting me a longer deadline means I owe you something—”

“Excuse me?” The words came out like he’d been slapped.

“I’ll get you the money as soon as I can and then this can be done.” I waved between us.

His whole face went dark. “You mean me.”

I’d never liked Jay Thornton, he had to know that. I went for the stairs.

“You’re a real piece of work,” he said to my back.

I spun around. “What did you think was going to happen here? That I’d jump into your arms because you extended my deadline? Or because we spent a little time together the other night?”

“That’s really what you think of me?” His voice became hard, dangerous. “Just because I work for a man like Simon doesn’t mean I’m anything like him.”

“Could have fooled me.”

He rubbed a hand through his hair. “I thought, after—”

“You thought wrong.”

Pain flashed in his eyes, his jaw clenched.

Despite who he was, I didn’t want to hurt him. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

“It wasn’t an idea. I’m capable of real, actual feelings, you know.” His face closed down.

I didn’t know what to say. Of course he had real feelings, but had I allowed them? I hadn’t seen Jay as anything other than someone who hurts people for money. I didn’t want to think there was anything else to him than that.

“I…” I hesitated.

“It’s okay, Maggie. I get it.” He brushed past me down the stairs.

He was gone and all I felt was relief.