Angelina
The casting list for the faculty show is posted outside the auditorium. All the dance students are gathered there when I arrive, my six foot five shadow ambling behind me.
He took me out to dinner and slept in my bed last night. He's acting like my boyfriend, and it feels too good to tell him to quit.
Even though I know it's going to end.
He knows it, too. He's been quiet-not exactly brooding, but thoughtful. The line between his brows hasn't gone away since dinner last night. I'm a coward, because I haven't had the will to broach the subject of us.
Somehow, I know that tonight he'll be back to sleeping on the couch. And that thought causes an ache right behind my breastbone. Even worse is the thought that at the end of two weeks, he'll leave.
Even now he hangs back, giving me space. Gone are the teasing smirks of yesterday.
I try to push the dilemma from my mind and check the cast list. One ballet dance. One modern. Rehearsals start tomorrow.
I should be grateful. Some dancers nearby are trying not to cry. I note Talya got in the modern dance piece with me. Remy didn't get into anything. She comes up behind me to check and I squeeze her hand.
"Did I get dissed again?"
"I'm sorry."
Remy shrugs, but I know it bothers her. It's one of the reasons I asked her to do the Eclipse thing. No-that's not true. I asked her because I like her and I knew she'd be great. But I also feel like she could shine so much brighter than she does in school. If they would see past the fifteen pounds they told her to lose. Yep, she got the dreaded "fat letter." The one I'm always on pins and needles about getting. It comes with a recommended visit to a campus nutritionist and certain number they want to see by a deadline. Or you're out of the program.
I'm not kidding.
So yeah. I haven't received one yet, but it's always on my mind. This threat looming over me. It's part of why I don't think I fit here. Not that I haven't achieved everything I'm supposed to want to achieve. But it's like this is a life I don't want to live anymore. It's the one my mom wanted. The one my dad thought was practical.
It was never my dream.
I turn around and find Jared still hanging back, but watching me intently, like I'm a puzzle he's trying to decode. I sling my dance bag over my shoulder and walk up to him. Strains of Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet drift out of a nearby classroom and I have the sudden giddy urge to dance up to him. But no. As much as I'm already loving having him beside me twenty-four hours a day, I should cut this short. Because seriously-if I get used to this, it will kill me when it's over. I'll probably be begging to have my memories wiped.
I lay a hand on his chest, loving the way his belly dips at the contact. "I have classes again all day, big guy. You really don't have to stay."
His throat works as he swallows, his eyes on my lips. "I do." His voice is rough.
"Jared."
His gaze lifts to my eyes.
"You can trust me with your secret."
He draws in a sharp breath. "I know." The words fly from his mouth, as if he hadn't thought before speaking. "I know," he repeats. His face closes. "I have orders…"
"I'll still be here at three when you pick me up. Nothing's going to happen in the meantime." I lift my pinkie. "Promise."
When the corners of his mouth lift in that familiar grin, my heart picks up speed. He hooks his pinkie in mine, then pulls it to his lips and kisses my fingers. "I'll be waiting out front."
I nod, satisfied. Not because I mind him here, but because I know I need to cut him loose. This is too intense for both of us.
Jared
I
heave a long section of chain link into place and wait as Trey secures it to the poles we already bolted to the cement floor. After I left Angelina at school, I wasted no time getting ready for the first fight. The fates know I've had enough down time hanging around with Angelina to make my plan.
"Does Garrett know you're not with her right now?" Trey asks, even though he knows the fucking answer.
"Fuck off."
"Thought he told you to stick to her like glue."
"Yeah, he did. And I have. But I trust her. She's not gonna tell. Besides, I have shit to do, or else we won't be ready for this fight. Which is supposed to happen during the two weeks I've been shackled to her. You think Garrett wants me to bring her here for it?" My voice is laced with scorn and Trey tosses me a lopsided grin.
"That would be a mistake."
"We both know it's not about me babysitting her."
"Right," Trey agrees. "It's about you figuring out if she's your mate or not."
Hearing it out loud does all kinds of scratchy things to my esophagus. Trey stops moving and looks over at me, trying to read my expression.
"And?" he prompts when I don't spill.
"I don't fucking know!" I shout.
Trey shakes the chain link to make sure it's secure, then hooks both hands thru the links and hangs on it. "I'm thinking you do."
I hurl the pair of wire cutters in my hand at his face, knowing he'll dodge in time. The two of us have been best friends since childhood. We know each other inside and out. I glare at him, my heart slamming against my ribs.
"I'm not gonna fucking wipe her."
Trey's brows shoot up, which gives me pause. Does that mean he thinks Angelina's my mate? Or he thinks I think so?