Chapter 191: Penny
I step off the barre and flop onto the bench, letting my legs dangle while I catch my breath. My chest is still buzzing from practice–deep plies, soaring battements, my muscles waking up after too many days off. Across from me, Luc is tying his hair back into a neat French braid, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.
“So,” he says, leaning forward on his elbows, “tell me everything.”
I pull a straw–sleeved smoothie from my bag–mango, spinach, a questionably healthy green, but it tastes like sunshine–and take a long, dripping sip. Luc rells his eyes in delight.
“I already texted you the cliff notes,” I say. “My rehearsal was…terrifyingly good. Madame Loretto actually said ‘bravo.‘ I think she meant it.”
He whoops. “Madame is impressed? You, little disco–ball of perfection? Quel miracle.” He swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Seriously, Penny, I’m proud. And I have something to tell you.”
I tilt my head. “Oh? I’m listening.”
He takes a slow breath, the sort that means a story is coming. “I’ve never really told you how I ended up here, in this city, dancing with you. Back home- France–my childhood was….let’s just say, less pirouettes and more patchwork. My dad ran a tiny boulangerie in Lyon. I grew up kneading dough before I knew an arabesque from an attitude. My mother taught me to dance in the mornings in that flour–dusted kitchen–she said it made the bread rise, watching me leap.”
I grin. “Cliché French childhood. You must’ve smelled amazing.”
“Like croissants coupled with ballerina tears,” he says solemnly. “By age eight I auditioned for the National Conservatory in Lyon. I boarded away from home. First time on a plane, I thought it would be an amusement ride. It was terrifying–I puked in the seat pocket. But the moment I stood in that studio, listening to the accordion in the hall, I knew: this is it.”
I laugh until I see a smudge of sweat on his brow. “You? Upset stomach?”
He shrugs, perfectly at ease. “We all have our battles. Mine was seasickness and an undying love for pâté.” He leans closer, lowering his voice. “But that’s all ancient history. Last week, I met someone.”
My heart pinbeats–curiosity, fear, anticipation? All of it. “You don’t say. Spill.” I lean forward, my elbows on my knees.
“He’s…smart. He makes me think I’ve got two left feet again.” Luc’s gaze dips to his hands. “He teaches computer science–some hedge–fund stuff. He’s brilliant, though my heart still skips when I see Asher coming to pick you up after practice.”
I nearly spit out my smoothie. “Wait, Asher?” I sputter. “The brooding navy seal? After all this time, Luc, you’re still ogling Asher when he comes here?”
Luc shrugs. “The very same. Sorry, honey–I can’t help it, and I don’t want to. This guy is so hot that any sane person would take a peek. He has that…that arrested–defect–in–a–soldier look. Completely irresistible.”
I swallow hard, heat blooming in my cheeks. “I mean, I can’t stop you–Asher isn’t…he’s not my boyfriend.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Not yet. You haven’t told him how
you
feel?
My hands go cold. “There are…complications.”
“Tyler,” he guesses. I nod. Luc folds his arms, frowning in that exasperated, older–brother way he has.
“Listen, Penny, I’ve trudged through my share of heartbreak. But you–you deserve honesty. If you want Asher, stop dancing around it.”
I look down at my shoelaces, tangled and pathetic. “What if he laughs? What if he thinks I’m, delusional?”
He reaches over and tilts my chin up. “He’ll never laugh. Not a man who risked his life protecting you. He cares about your safety–he would die for you. – His voice softens. “Trust me, he’s probably done way more dangerous things. Admitting he likes you is nothing compared to the things he’s survived. Plus didn’t he say he wanted you before? All you have to do is say it back.”
My pulse thunders. “Okay. But how do I even start?”
Chapter 191: Penny
Luc grins, eyes glittering. “Simple: ‘Asher, can I talk to you? Then spill your heart. ‘I like you. More than a friend. How harnay waya tak was dan 11 you’re brave enough.”
I exhale, a shaky giggle escaping. “Sounds so…adult.”
He shrugs again, impossibly cool. “Life’s short, Penny. And love is the only dance worth
1 laugh outright. “You’re impossible.”
He stands, sliding out of his chair. “No. I’m your friend. And I’ll be first in line cheering when you push both your feet into his heart
I stand too, tossing my straw into a trash can. “Deal. But…thank you. For the pep talk.”
He holds out his hand, winks. “Anytime. Now–ice cream?”
I toss my bag over my shoulder. “Only if it has extra hot fudge.”
He claps his hands together. “Après–dance punishment it is.”
Together, we stride out of the studio café into the crisp afternoon, plotting exactly how I’ll conquer both the barre and my own terrified hear
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