“Fine. Your hookup, fling, whatever you want to call it.”
What the hell was she talking about?
“I don’t…” Earl’s judgment. Scarlett waiting in the studio. The only woman she could’ve possibly seen me with since Friday. The puzzle pieces slotted together with perfect clarity. “You’re talking about Polina.”
“If Polina is the blond with legs longer than a giraffe, then yes.” Scarlett finally whirled around and faced me. “You were having quite a snog fest in the living room. I didn’t want to interrupt you, so I came downstairs and waited for you to finish.”
“It wasn’t a snog fest session,” I growled. “She kissed me.”
“Sure.”
Irrational anger simmered in my veins. “I guess you didn’t stay long enough to see me push her off,” I said. “Polina and I went on a few dates last year. That’s it. She came by because she wanted me to help her make someone else jealous, and she thought seducing me first would make it easier.” I nodded at her bag. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll give you her number and you can confirm with her.”
Scarlett faltered. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh.” I kept my eyes trained on hers as I carefully picked my next words. “Even if we were making out, I don’t understand why you’d be mad.”
“I’m not mad. I’m annoyed about your tardiness.”
“That wasn’t annoyance I heard.”
“Then you’re hearing things that don’t exist.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I took in her stiff posture and the rosy flush darkening her cheeks. A slow smile spread across my face. “Wait. Scarlett, darling…are you jealous?”
“You wish.”
I’d been half joking, but her answer came too quickly, too aggressively to ring true.
My smile vanished beneath an unsteady thump of my heart. “Maybe I do.”
The confession drifted between us like confetti in the wind, blowing this way and that, uncertain of where to land.
It was the closest either of us had come to acknowledging our attraction—and there was attraction. A quiet, smoldering, mutual one. Of that, I was sure.
If she’d stayed in the kitchen a minute longer the other night, I would’ve kissed her, and she would’ve let me.
Scarlett’s throat moved with a small swallow. “You shouldn’t.”
I drew in a deep breath and exhaled. The invisible confetti fluttered, finally coming to rest on the far side of the room. So tangible yet untouchable.
“Those rules of yours again, huh?”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Those rules of mine.”
We didn’t discuss Polina or Friday night again for the rest of our session. They weren’t the real issues at hand.
No, the real issue lay dormant, as patient and incendiary as a ticking bomb.
It was only a matter of time before it exploded.
CHAPTER 16SCARLETT
“When do rehearsals start?” Carina asked.
“On Tuesday. They’re only once a week, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”
Since it was a one-night school showcase and the staff members were seasoned professionals, the rehearsal schedule was less grueling than that of a normal dance company performance.
My stomach flip-flopped. It was Saturday, five days since Lavinia appointed me understudy, and my excitement had bled into nerves.
Luckily, Lorena’s choreography didn’t involve a lot of moves that would aggravate my old injuries. My doctor had given me her tentative approval pending a full physical (to make sure nothing had changed since our last checkup) and my promise that I would commit only to one performance.
“Don’t overexert yourself,” she’d told me yesterday. “Your body can handle performing again up to a certain point, but once you pass that point, you’ll be undoing a lot of progress. If you feel any abnormal discomfort at all, call me and your PT immediately.”
She didn’t have to worry about that; I had her and my physical therapist on speed dial.
“Perfect. So we’ll still have time for shopping and trolling for good-looking men with a stable job, decent personality and no significant other,” Carina joked, drawing my attention back to her.
We were having drinks at the Angry Boar, which was packed with happy hour patrons and a handful of lost-looking tourists. I usually steered clear of this pub because it was a magnet for footballers, but it had great weekend drink specials and the number of athletes usually thinned out during the offseason.
“Good-looking, single, employed, and not a prat? In London? You’re asking for way too much,” I said.
Carina grinned. “A girl can dream. Speaking of dreams…” She raised her glass. “Here’s to the best understudy for Lorena in all of RAB.”
“I’m the only understudy for the role at RAB.”
