For their first date, Nik asked Jess to meet him at the Americana at Brand, an outdoor mall in Glendale designed to look like someone’s fantasy version of a European village. For some reason he couldn’t understand, the mall also had apartments on the upper levels, and he had to pass through an open-air concierge area on his way in from the parking garage.

A trolley, festooned with wreaths, holly, and an enormous glittering red bow, wound its way around the track circling the “town square,” where an enormously tall, conical Christmas tree drew the eye upward. Red and white lights hung in abundance from the boughs of the trees ringing the square and over the walkways. The air smelled like cinnamon, and tinkling, jazzy music scores from classic Christmas movies played unobtrusively in the background.

Having grown up in Brooklyn, Nik found the Americana both bizarre and quaint. He hoped Jess would feel the same. He couldn’t imagine a more magical setting for a date. Even better, it was warm. Doing holiday stuff in New York City was fun, but made harder by actual winter weather. He wore a light jacket, because the temperature in LA dropped at night, but he didn’t need a scarf, hat, or gloves.

Part of him missed the whole ritual of getting ready to go out in the cold. But only a very small part.

The sun was going down as he waited for Jess by one of the fountains, where a giant, nearly naked gold man froze mid-prance in the center, surrounded by cheerful jets of water colored by tiny lights in the fountain’s base. Red and green, of course.

As the minutes ticked by, Nik worried that Jess wasn’t going to show up. He’d arrived early, just in case he hit traffic, and because it would’ve been rude to be late. But what if she’d just been humoring him to get him to leave her alone? Maybe he’d read the whole situation all wrong.

Then he spotted her coming toward him, and his face broke into a grin. She wore a gray bomber jacket and jeans. A turquoise patterned headscarf pushed her curls into an updo. Nik waved, and she joined him by the fountain.

“Traffic on the 2.” She rolled her eyes, but leaned in to give him a half hug.

He’d take it. She smelled like cherries, reminding him of their first kiss, and when he put his arm around her, her petite frame fit perfectly against him.

She peered around them, taking in all the over-the-top holiday décor, and pouted those pretty lips in a way that said, “I’m here, but I’m not happy about it.” Nik couldn’t help but laugh.

“Bah humbug?” he asked, and her mouth compressed to hold back a grin.

“You said it, not me.” She moved closer and slipped her arm through his. The alternating colors of the fountain’s lights reflected on her hair—green, then red, then green again. “So, what are we doing on this date?”

“Well, one of the main tenets of the holidays is giving gifts to loved ones.”

She huffed out a laugh. “I know what Christmas is. I’m just not a fan of celebrating it.”

Her words made him wonder why, but it was too soon to ask.

“Let’s start with some shopping,” he suggested, trying to keep things light.

“Who says I plan to shop for anyone?” She side-eyed the passing trolley and its waving conductor.

“Maybe this was all just a ruse to get you to help me buy gifts for Natasha and my cousin’s wife.”

That got a chuckle out of her and she elbowed his side. “Pretty elaborate ruse, my dude. But I should probably get a gift for my agent while I’m here. Let’s start over there.”

Jess directed them to a makeup store, and Nik followed her lead. As they browsed the spa and skincare aisles, he told her about his family—his mother and father back in Brooklyn, who’d moved their whole family from Ukraine to America in the 1990s; his brother, who was learning the meaning of the word “compromise” with Natasha; his cousin Alex and his wife, Marina, who were expecting a baby in the spring; and his cousin Fedya, Nik’s partner in crime when they were little, who was now a father of three.

Nik was careful to open up first. He hadn’t forgotten how, after their first kiss, she’d ducked his question about why she’d left Chicago. He seriously doubted “too cold” was the only reason. So as he spoke, he kept his comments thoughtful, leaving spaces and gaps for her to step in, if she wanted to. And he didn’t ask her anything outright.

Eventually, she opened up just a little.

“My sister Jaina’s an accountant in Texas,” she said, testing a red lipstick on the back of her hand.

He waited to see if she’d supply more info. After turning her hand this way and that, as if checking how the lipstick looked in the light, she continued.

“She’s a drama queen. Every time we talk, Jaina has some other shit going on with her job, her friends, or a man. I can’t keep up.”

“Is that for her?” he asked, pointing at the lipstick.

“Hell no. This is for me.” She added two more stripes of red in different shades and compared them. “Which one do you think is better?”

Nik flagged down a salesperson to help Jess try on the color she liked best, and he smiled as she preened in the tiny mirror attached to the end of the aisle.

“I like it,” he said. “Very Christmassy.”

“Shut up. No, it’s not.” But she sent him a coy little smile that set him ablaze.

“What’s the color called?” he asked, because he wanted to remember it.

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and sighed. “Holly Jolly Berry.”

Nik laughed, and as they wound their way toward the cashiers, Jess surprised him by returning to the topic of family. Her words came out in bursts, laced with unspoken—and perhaps unacknowledged—emotions.

“I mean, it’s great and all that you have a good connection with your family,” she said. “But not everyone has that. And the holidays force the issue, like there’s something wrong with you if you’re not in the spirit of celebrating and putting aside your differences to deal with your toxic or dysfunctional family members.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “So, how do you usually celebrate, if not with your family?”

“I stay home and catch up on TV, indulging in some good old R&R while everyone else is busy.”

“Alone?” He tried to keep the surprise out of his voice, but probably failed.

“Yes, alone. I like my ‘me time.’”

Nik wanted to ask more, to dig deeper into what she was saying, but she’d tell him when—and if—she was ready.

“Oh, Naomi would love this.” Jess picked up a skin-care boxed set. “She has sensitive skin, so she’s always on the lookout for all-natural products. I’m going to get this for her.”

“Is she the one who was at Rhianne’s party with you?” Her energy changed when she talked about her friend, as opposed to her family. She lit up when she mentioned Naomi’s name.

“Yeah, and now I’m never going to hear the end of it, thanks to you.”

“The end of what?”

“She’s one hundred percent in favor of us kissing again.”

“Can’t say I disagree.” He smiled when her lips quirked. “What’s your opinion on the matter?”

“I’m still deciding,” she answered haughtily. She tossed the package into the basket he carried, and they moved on.

Outside, he begged her to pose for cheesy pictures with him in front of every Christmassy backdrop they passed, including the trolley.

“Where are you posting these?” she demanded.

“Nowhere. They’re just for me.”

“Oh.” She was quiet a moment. “Well, text me the best ones.”

He did it on the spot. Then, he directed her to one of the snack stands set up around the fountains. “No holiday outing is complete without hot chocolate.”

She held up her hands and spread her fingers, as if to indicate the lack of gloves. “You drink hot chocolate when it’s cold. It’s not cold. It’s sixty-two degrees.”

He pretended to be affronted. “Miss Jessica Davenport, we are adults and we can drink hot chocolate anytime we damn well please.”

His remark got her laughing, and she gave his gut a light whack…that ended in a furtive caress. Was she feeling him up? He didn’t mind that at all.

As they waited in line, he peppered her with trivial questions.

“Marshmallows or whipped cream?”

“I can’t have both?”

“Peppermint or caramel?”

“On what? Never mind. Caramel. Always caramel. Anything mint-flavored makes me think of toothpaste.”

“Tea or coffee?”

“I am not a morning person, so give me all the coffee.”

“Gingerbread or chocolate chip?”

“What kind of monster do you think I am? Chocolate chip.”

He adored the way she never answered a question with a simple yes or no, A or B. Every time she opened her mouth, her personality spilled out along with her words. She might not know it, but she was sharing more of herself than she realized.

Once they had their drinks, they sat at a small café table and sipped.

“Good?” he asked.

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes and savored. “So good.”

She had a tiny bit of whipped cream on her lip. He ached to lick it off. Instead, he pointed, and her own tongue darted out to catch it.

Almost as good.

She drank more of her cocoa, watching the people around them as he watched her. Her prickliness guarded a heart that had been hurt. He didn’t know how or when, but he’d have to work extra hard to change her mind and show her that he’d changed his.

He hated that their conversation eleven months ago had been about his refusal to be tied down, and now, that was all he wanted. Cheesy as it sounded, he wanted to tie them together with a big Christmas bow.

How could he make her believe that if she didn’t want to?

The music filling the outdoor area changed from a slower Christmas ballad to a rollicking jazz-style carol. The beat zinged through Nik, demanding he get on his feet.

“Now what?” Jess asked, her tone suspicious. “Your whole body just lit up like…well, like a damn Christmas tree.”

“Let’s dance.” He took her hand.

“What about our drinks?” She gestured at their mostly full cups. “They’ll get cold.”

“I’ll buy you another one.”

He handed their shopping bags and a twenty dollar bill to one of the concierge guys on the lawn—yes, this mall had those. “Hold these for me?” When the guy nodded, Nik took Jess’s hand and drew her out onto the main road that wound around the center lawns.

“Nik!” She laughed out his name, but didn’t look embarrassed or resistant. He’d never heard a better sound. “No one else is dancing.”

“I know.” He grinned and pulled her into a close hold, with his right hand resting on her left shoulder blade, and his left hand gently clasping the fingers of her right. “We’re about to make a spectacle of ourselves.”

“What kind of spectacle?” Jess couldn’t have wiped the grin off her face if her life depended on it. His enthusiasm was infectious, like a disease borne on the smell of pine and Christmas cheer.

“You like Lindy hop, right?”

She loved it. “How’d you know?”

He gave her a patient smile. “Jeshka, I’ve seen every single one of your Instagram posts. I’m a fan.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks warmed at the thought of him following her photos all year, paying enough attention to note and remember something like this, instead of passively double-clicking to heart a picture and moving on. Then the way he’d said her name caught up to her. “Jeshka?”

“My people live for nicknames.” He raised his eyebrows and looked over her shoulder. “I hope you’re okay with going viral.”

“What?” She peeked behind him. Sure enough, several shoppers already had their phones out and pointed at where she stood with Nik. This would probably end up all over social media, was likely being live-streamed this very moment, with their names tagged soon if not already. Speculation was bound to arise about whether or not they were dating.

Whatever. Let them watch. She had nothing to hide. Someone might even think it was a publicity stunt, like a flash mob. It could only help both of their careers.

Not only that, Nik was an amazing dancer. Right now, she just wanted the experience of dancing with him.

What would Naomi say?

Go play.

“Let’s do this,” Jess said, and Nik took that as his cue, stepping them into the dance with his left foot.

The song was a modern big band hit, with jazzy vocals and a lively percussive beat punctuated by blaring trumpets. Nik deftly led her through the eight-count pattern of the Lindy swing out—rock step, triple step, walk, walk, triple step—matching the song’s fast-paced rhythm with speed and control.

Dancing with Nik was like being caught in a bubble—just the two of them, with a perfect, almost telepathic connection between their bodies and the music. He communicated moves to her through the tension in his fingers holding hers, the touch of his hand on her upper back, and shifts in balance. Dance created a language only spoken between the partners, as intimate as it was invigorating.

Despite all her Scrooging, tonight was the most fun she’d had in a very long time. Giving herself over to the dance and the boppy beat, Jess sank low in her knees, twisting on the balls of her feet as she swiveled left and right. The road was so well paved, her flat tennis shoes slid easily on the surface. She even closed her eyes at one point, letting the music and the steps—and Nik—take over. The soft scent of his cologne plied her memory, bringing to mind the feel of his mouth on hers. Her body warmed, and it wasn’t just from exertion.

The song’s vocals dropped out, launching into an instrumental interlude, and Nik led her into a tuck turn for a Tandem Charleston. Facing out, with her back to his front, she noticed the crowd growing around them. The awareness of their audience, combined with the heat emanating from Nik’s body and the connection she felt through their joined hands, sent a thrill racing through her.

As they kicked their way into a swing out, Jess couldn’t hold back—she let out a huge laugh, and Nik’s answering grin made her melt inside. The chorus returned and they sank down, preparing to lift with their knees. A second later, Jess was going up, both feet lifting off the ground in a perfectly controlled frog jump. Her spirit soared with the movement. She freaking loved this dance.

The crowd oohed, but she ignored them, the entirety of her attention fixed on Nik’s wide smile.

And he, of course, was focused solely on her. As he had been all night.

No denying it. She hadn’t had a date this good since—probably ever.

The problem was, Nik was going to leave again. Eventually, his wanderlust would return and off he’d go, just like all the other guys she’d dated in this industry. This dancing around, talking about their families and being sweet together…it was only getting her in deeper.

Deep wasn’t fun. Deep would lead to heartbreak when he left. Because he would leave. They always did.

Except right now, she didn’t care. If the spirit of the holidays was about believing in things you had no proof of, well…then that’s what she’d try to do. Maybe Nik was right and there was something real between them. Or maybe he was just playing her. But dancing was about being in the moment, so she let everything else wash away on a tide of trombone moans and swivel steps.

They rocked and kicked and jumped and twirled their way through the rest of dance, a flurry of movement that felt like sheer perfection. When the song ended, people clapped. There were tons of phone cameras pointed their way. They bowed for the assembled crowd, then Nik drew her away and back toward the hot chocolate stand.

As they walked, Jess pressed her warm fingertips to the taut muscles of her cheeks. She was grinning like a damn fool and breathing hard, but so was Nik. He met her eyes, his chest heaving. A flippy sensation happened somewhere in her ribcage.

Oh.

Oh. No.

He’d done it. Just like that. He’d wormed his way in and won her over already. If she were being honest with herself, he’d been doing it since last New Year’s Eve. The kiss, the heart emojis, the insistence on holiday cheer. Who could resist all that? Not her, that was for damn sure.

She had to try. She should try. Or…for now, she could just enjoy it. For a little while. She’d still be her snarky self on the outside, but inside…

She’d soak it all in, holding these warm, gushy feelings tight. So when he left, she’d remember, at least for a short while, how it had felt.

Nik collected their purchases from the concierge and bought new cups of hot cocoa, as promised. Then they sat at a different table to drink.

“You’re good,” she said, finally catching her breath after a sip of the rich, sweet cocoa.

He shrugged. “I do what I can. We can’t all be swing dance champions, like you.”

“What, did you Google me?”

“Of course I did. Didn’t you Google me?”

She pressed her lips together, not wanting to answer, but his expectant eyebrow lift teased it out of her. “Yes, damn it. I did.”

He threw his head back and laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. It was a nice sound, light and masculine.

“You’ve done Broadway,” she said, because it was something she’d read about him and wanted to know more about. Why did he join touring productions when he could be on the biggest stage of all?

“I have.”

“So, why tour?”

He fiddled with the plastic lid of his drink. “You already know why.”

“The travel and adventures?”

He hunched his shoulders, cringing as she reminded him of his own words from nearly a year ago. “It seemed important at the time.”

“Is it because you’re from New York?”

“Partly.” He kicked out his legs and reclined as much as the flimsy chair would allow, folding his hands over his flat belly. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a relentless struggle to get those roles. You have to put in the time, the effort, and be one hundred percent dedicated. But when you can stay at your parents’ house in Brooklyn for free and your brother is a movie star with a memorable—and by that, I mean foreign—last name, it’s not quite as hard as it is for other people.”

She gave him an exasperated look. “Are you saying you went on tour because getting roles on Broadway was too easy for you? Because if you are, I might have to throw this hot chocolate on you. And then you’ll have to get me a third one.”

He shifted in his chair like he wasn’t comfortable with the topic. “It’s not that it was easy, it was that I felt…I don’t know, stuck. Like I hadn’t progressed at all as a person. As a dancer, sure, I was constantly learning new things. But as a…god, this is going to sound cliché.”

“Go on. I’m sorry, I won’t make fun.” Because now she was into it, imagining a younger version of Nik, living at home and wanting…more.

She understood that feeling. And she didn’t know what to do about it, so if he had an answer, she wanted to hear it.

“As a man.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and she caught the telltale red tinge on his cheeks. That sexy, sexy blush.

He dropped his hand and continued. “I’m a younger brother, by a lot of years. As long as I was at home, I was still the baby. Maybe you get it, because you have an older sister.”

She nodded. “Oh yeah, I feel you on the awkward family dynamics. Why do you think I moved out so early? I was twenty when I came to LA.”

“And how long ago was that?” he asked with a grin.

“Three and a half years, and don’t you dare make a joke about me being younger than you, because you are not that much older than I am, okay?”

He held up both hands, chuckling. “I won’t, I promise. But you sure have done a lot in a short amount of time.”

And because he was so easy to talk to, it all came spilling out. Her LA story. How she’d started dancing young, with tap and hip hop, before finding ballroom dance through an extracurricular program in middle school. How she’d racked up junior championships in ballroom and swing while living in Chicago, then decided moving to Los Angeles was the next step.

If only she could figure out what came next now.

“Why did you switch to ballroom?” he asked.

She closed her eyes, remembering. “I fell in love with the Viennese waltz the first time I saw it performed, thanks to a class trip. It was so smooth and romantic. From there, I became obsessed with old movies and big dance numbers. Those led me to swing. When I found out about the Lindy hop, I researched the history and learned that it started in Harlem. I was hooked.”

She fell quiet, remembering. Ballroom had been so different from everything she’d ever known for those first thirteen years, when her whole life had been harsh angles and words. Ballroom dance was sweeping curves and intimate connection between the couple and the music. It was, at her core, all she ever wanted.

“I couldn’t wait to get away,” she went on. “Outside of the dance crowd, I didn’t have too many friends. I traveled a lot for competitions, and none of my classmates understood what I was doing—or why. So I never really felt like I belonged there, you know?” She chuckled, but it was with a bittersweet pang. It had taken time, but she could look back with compassion at the lonely girl she’d once been. “I was probably the only teenager in Chicago with pictures of Billie Holiday and Norma Miller, the ‘queen of swing,’ taped to my walls.”

“Hey, look who you’re talking to. We had framed photos of Baryshnikov and Nureyev in our living room, like they were part of the family.”

“At least your family was all into it. Your mom was a dance teacher, right? My parents just thought I was nuts. They wanted me to be a nurse or something else with reliable job security.”

They’d supported her desire to dance, footing the bill for ballroom lessons, costumes, and travel when she started competing and winning, but they hadn’t understood it as a calling or a career until she’d appeared on TV. Now, they were her biggest fans, voting for her every week that she was in the competition, but the memory of those early years still carried a dull ache.

“So, how did you get on The Dance Off?” Nik asked. “It’s a pretty sweet gig.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “I auditioned for a backup dancer spot on a whim. I didn’t think they’d hire me.”

“Why not? You’re an amazing dancer.”

Jess tugged on the end of one of her curls and let it bounce back. “My hair. I stopped chemically straightening it after I quit competing, and you don’t see a lot of natural hair in the ballroom dance world. But the producers liked my moves and the range of dances in my repertoire, plus they were willing to bring on a new stylist for me. I couldn’t turn it down.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. Otherwise we might never have met.” Nik’s phone beeped, and he checked the screen. “Come on. It’s almost time.”

“Time for what?” But she let him take her hand and lead her along the trolley path. Other people were moving in the same direction, and when the clock hit seven, she understood why.

A noisy whirring filled the air, and as she looked up to find the source of the sound, wonder and surprise had her jaw falling open.

“Nik, is that…is that snow?”

He grinned down at her. “You didn’t know they do this here?”

She shook her head, watching in amazement as clusters of tiny flakes flew off the roof and into the dark sky over the shoppers. Around them, children squealed, and even the adults made delighted murmurs. Snow in Los Angeles was impossible, yet here it was.

Nik would say it was the magic of Christmas. And even though she knew it was a marvel of technology, part of her thought he might be right.

She held out a hand to catch some of the flakes, inspecting them on her palm. “What’s it made out of?”

“Snow.”

She shot him an amused smirk. “No, really.”

He heaved a sigh. “You want me to ruin the magic?”

“I just want to know.”

“It’s a foam. Like tiny bubbles, I guess.”

The “snow” dissolved on her hand. “It’s amazing. Floating in the air like this, it looks just like the real thing.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“That it’s not cold. If you’re used to real winters, it’s weird to see snow when it’s not cold. At least, I think so.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean.” Just the sight of the snow made her want to cozy up to him for warmth…or for the pleasure of cuddling with that hot bod.

In total, the snowfall lasted all of five minutes. When it was over, Jess turned to Nik. The twinkling fairy lights reflected in his eyes. “Okay,” she said in a soft voice. “I guess that was pretty magical.”

The smile that eased over his features was pretty damn magical, too, and set her heart to thumping in her chest.

He stepped closer, and even though they were surrounded by people, it was like they were completely alone.

“Jess.” His voice was soft, and the look in his eyes made her breath catch. “I’ll stay, if you want me to.”

“Stay?” The word trembled out. She wouldn’t even let herself consider what it might mean.

“In Los Angeles.”

Oh. He did mean that.

Jess took a sip of cocoa she carried to give herself time to sort out her thoughts. He’d put the ball in her court. While she couldn’t deny there was a spark between them, the fear that he’d leave as soon as the next gig popped up was too strong. What if she said yes and he left anyway? It would break her.

She needed to buy some time.

“New Year’s Eve,” she said, lowering the cup and meeting his eyes. “At midnight. If I kiss you…” It means you convinced me. That I want you to stay. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

“If you kiss me, I’ll stay,” he clarified. “And if you don’t…then I’ll know where we stand.”

“Yes.” All of this had started with a kiss at midnight. It seemed right to bring it full circle, no matter how it turned out.

Nik nodded. “It’s a date.”

After they finished their drinks, Nik walked her to her car in the garage.

“Did you have fun?”

“Maybe I did,” she replied with a coy smile. She couldn’t lie and say she hadn’t, but it was still too soon to give him the upper hand.

When he passed her the bag containing her new lipstick and the gifts she’d purchased for Naomi and her agent, their hands brushed. The barest contact, but it pulled at her and made her want more.

He stood close, looking down at her with brown eyes gone soft and dreamy. Was he going to kiss her? Her breath hitched in anticipation of the touch of his lips. A beat passed, and when he didn’t lean in, she realized he was waiting for her to make the first move.

Jess didn’t consider herself shy, but something made her want to take things slow. Instead of a kiss, she reached up to give him a hug. It had been an excellent date, and he deserved that much, at least.

And also? She just wanted to.

She shut her eyes for a second to savor the feel of his hard, capable body surrounding her, to breathe in the subtle scent of his cologne—something woodsy with notes of amber that made her think of the color of his eyes.

Because she wanted to hold on, she let go. “You have my number,” she said, opening the car door. “Keep me posted about date number two.” In other words, the ball’s back in your court, buddy.

“I will.” The words rang with a note of promise.

She hoped he did. Not because she fully believed in him or this holiday magic business. But she’d had fun, and yeah, she wanted to see him again.

Hopefully her heart’s defenses were strong enough to withstand whatever else he had in store for them.

Nik walked into his brother’s house to find Natasha sitting at the kitchen counter, working on her laptop.

She looked up when Nik stopped in the arched doorway, blinking at him through red-framed glasses. “Hey. Were you out with Jess?”

“Yeah.” He’d already told Tash about the three dates thing. He pulled out a chair and sat across from her. “How well do you know her?” he asked, then quickly added, “Not that I’m digging for info or anything. Just curious.”

Natasha frowned at the ceiling. “Not super well, come to think of it. She’s newer to the cast, a bit younger. I haven’t really hung out with her outside of work or group settings. How was your date?”

“Good.” He shifted in the chair, trying to get comfortable. “I mean, I think it was good. She’s still on board for the second date, so I guess she had a nice time.”

He couldn’t figure Jess out. Sometimes it seemed like she really liked him, but then she’d switch on a dime, and he could tell she was holding back. Was it that she didn’t trust him? She’d warmed up as the night went on, and he hadn’t mistaken her genuine enjoyment when they’d danced. Swing dancing for a crowd of dozens of onlookers hadn’t been part of his plan, but dating, like dancing, sometimes required improvisation.

He hadn’t planned on telling her he’d stay, either, but with the snow and cocoa and everything, it had just slipped out. He meant it, but it was clear Jess didn’t believe that yet.

“Having never been on a date with you, I couldn’t say,” Natasha was saying. “But if you were your usual charming self, I don’t see how she could resist you.”

Dimitri walked in then. “What are you saying? I’m not charming?”

Tash grinned at him. “You can be, but I think we both know Nik has you beat in that department.”

“As long as it’s not in any other departments.” He took her hand and pulled her into his arms. “Besides, you don’t like charming guys.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re right. I don’t. I like moody grouches.”

She was laughing when Dimitri lowered his head to kiss her.

Nik slipped out of the kitchen to give them some privacy and headed to his room. Or, rather, the guest room. Same space, different distinction.

This wasn’t his home anymore.

When he’d sold his car and moved all his stuff into storage earlier in the year, it was with the intention of being even more free and detached than he already was.

Now? He just felt unmoored, like a rowboat stuck in the middle of a lake.

He recalled the conversation he’d had with Jess nearly a year ago. At the time, the thought of being settled had scared him. As a performer, complacency felt like giving up, and their talk had likely contributed to his decision to move out of his brother’s house. But watching Mitya and Tash grow closer made Nik take a good, hard look at his own life, and his place in the Kovalenko family.

The role wasn’t always comfortable, but he’d been the little brother for a long time. Now, it looked like he’d be a brother-in-law soon. His cousin Alex’s baby would be born in a few months; maybe Tash and Mitya would have babies too. He hoped they did. He was looking forward to being an uncle and planned to spoil the heck out of his nieces and nephews.

But what did he want for himself? What new space did he want to claim within the family dynamic? He’d been very small when their family immigrated to America, and he’d had an easier time adapting than Dimitri had. Plus, he’d always had Mitya looking out for him. Part of his reason for taking touring gigs had been to break away from that, to carve out his own niche independent of his famous older brother.

And he’d done it. He’d performed on Broadway, at the West End, as a backup dancer for multi-platinum pop stars—hell, he’d even danced during a Super Bowl halftime show.

He’d made a name for himself in this industry. He’d seen the world. He’d spent years searching for an elusive sense of fulfillment and purpose, and come up empty-handed.

But when he’d seen Jess at that party, standing across the room in a cute Christmas shirt, it was like something shifted inside him, as if the missing piece he’d been looking for had magically appeared, right where it belonged.

What the hell did it all mean?

All he knew was he had a few local opportunities on the table—thanks to his kickass agent—no home to call his own, and a woman who didn’t believe he was willing to stay if she only gave him the word.

In other words…not much.

He was too worn out to contemplate such heavy thoughts any further. After changing into basketball shorts, he headed for Mitya’s home gym. Maybe sweating would help shut his brain off.

This endeavor with Jess had to work. It had to. If it didn’t…well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, he had a second date to plan.