Chapter 309
My legs ache.
Not in the delicate, graceful way ballet leaves you sore – more like I went to war with inflatable grenades, crawling through a minefield of glitter and
getting smacked with a pool noodle by Max… twice.
I’m sitting cross–legged on the edge of the mat, the toe of my sock snagged on a glittery duct tape seam, watching as the party slowly unravels into goodbye hugs and half–hearted clean–up efforts. There’s cake smeared on someone’s shirt. Balloons are wilting against the walls. Someone is still wearing the ridiculous cardboard vest that Rooster dubbed “tactical couture.” It’s chaos. Beautiful, earned chaos.
I let out a breath, slow and long.
“Hey,” Mila says, crouching beside me with a sleepy smile. “That was insane. In the best way.”
Boomer stands behind her, his arm slung across her shoulders. “Yeah. You really pulled this off.”
Rooster walks past, bucket in one hand, a fistful of used napkins in the other. “Don’t get emotional on me now, Ballerina. You’ll make me cry sparkles.”
–
I laugh because I’m too tired to do anything else. I glance at the clock. It’s late. So late I’ll regret it tomorrow, but right now… I don’t care. I glance toward the windows. Asher’s already waiting by the door, his coat draped over his arm, his eyes on me like I’m the only thing that matters in this room.
They all start moving, collecting cups and plates, un–taping balloons from the floor.
“You guys sure?” I ask, standing up slowly. “I can stay–help get everything perfect. Madame Loretto will lose it if she-”
“Go,” Anna,says firmly, waving me off.
“We got it,” Luc adds, already stacking chairs. “We’ll scrub the glitter out of the mirrors if we have to.”
“You earned the exit,” Mila grins. “Now get out of here before I change my mind and make you mop.”
I blink at them
–
my chaotic, weird, wonderful little circle
–
and my throat tightens with something warm.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
We hug. Each of them. Quick, squishy, lingering goodbyes that smell like sugar and cheap party beer. And then I slip out the door with Asher beside me, the cold air outside washing over my skin like permission to finally breathe.
The car ride is quiet. Soft music playing low from the radio, the city outside blinking in sleepy yellow lights. My head is resting against the window, my body humming from too much laughter, too much sugar, too much adrenaline.
1
Asher drives like he always does one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift, fingers tapping against his thigh to a beat only he can hear. He’s still wearing the gear someone stuck him in camo pants, a black long–sleeve shirt, and the plastic army vest Max insisted he had to wear for “authenticity.” His jaw is relaxed, but there’s a slight upward curve to his mouth that he’s not trying to hide.
He looks… happy.
I shift in my seat. “Hey.”
1/2
1:31 pm P PPW.
Chapter 309
He glances at me.
“Did you really like it?”
At the red light, he turns toward me, eyes catching the soft red glow.
His voice is low, sincere, no hesitation. “It’s the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
Just like that, I feel full again. Like all the stress, all the planning, all the little details were absolutely worth it.
I smile and look out the window. “Good.”
We get home a few minutes later. The apartment smells like lavender and the faint traces of cinnamon from the candle I left burning earlier. Asher locks the door behind us and shrugs out of his jacket.
1 toe off my shoes, then turn to him, hands behind my back, pretending like I’m just another tired ballerina girl winding down from a long night.
“I have one more gift,” I say softly.
He
raises
a brow, smirking. “Yeah?”
“Mm–hm.” I bite my lip and reach for the waistband of my jeans.
His eyes darken immediately, locked on my every move like a predator clocking his prey.
Comments
Veronica Allen–Jones
Surely this isn’t the end? We haven’t had the Spring Gala yet. when is the next update please?
7 days ago
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
