Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

SASHA

Sweat drips down my back as Carter holds eye contact with me. We both struggle to catch full breaths, and my heart races a mile a minute. I feel almost high right now, something I always experience when I'm dancing.

I've been dancing since I was five years old when my mother enrolled me in a ballet class to help with my clumsiness. I don't think there has been a single day since then that I haven't danced. It's in my blood now, and I don't think there would be any way to get it out. It's who I am, and even if I'm not doing it professionally, I'd never give it up.

The music ends, and I clap my hands, beaming at my student.

"You killed it today. You clearly didn't slack off over the summer," I praise him, resulting in the top of his ears brightening to a deep shade of red. He's always so adorable when he blushes. "If you ever wanted to give up basketball and become a dancer, you could do it in a heartbeat."

He chuckles, grabbing his towel to wipe off his face, trailing down to dry his chest and fantastic abs. I might have put Carter strictly in the do-not-touch box because he's my dance student and was only eighteen when I first met him, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate how gorgeous he is. He's tall as fuck, like most basketball players, and has a lean build with muscles in all the right places. His jet-black hair, rich brown skin, and alluring chestnut eyes tie the whole package together. I internally fan myself. Whoever gets to take that man home is one lucky son of a bitch.

"If dance paid as good as the NBA is supposed to, I'd consider it but we both know it doesn't," he replies, and I sigh.

"You're preaching to the choir. Why do you think I'm in law school and not dancing full time? I need something to pay the bills."

"Do you not like law school?" he asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

I shake my head. "I do, but obviously, dance is my main passion."

Carter nods like he understands. "I love basketball and dance equally, which makes things easier. If something happens and I don't get drafted to the NBA, maybe I'll try to dance professionally."

An alarm goes off on my phone and Carter packs his stuff up, knowing my next students will be arriving soon.

"I'll see you next week," he tells me, waving as he walks out the door.

I take a moment to check out his perfect ass as he leaves because even though I've friend zoned him, I still can appreciate the view. He pauses just outside and turns to wink at me.

"You'd think after all this time you'd be over checking my ass out," he teases.

"I will never get sick of an ass like that," I retort, making him laugh as he walks down the hall.

Once he's gone, I get busy setting up for my class of little ballet dancers.

Green Spring Dance Academy pays me well for the classes I teach and only takes a small percentage of what I charge private students, like Carter, to cover the facility fees. But it barely covers my bills. Once I have to start paying back my student loans, it won't be enough. Even if I worked here full time, it wouldn't cut it. Besides, teaching dance was never my dream. I wanted to be the center of attention, on stage every night, dancing in front of a sold-out audience. Unfortunately, most people's dreams never come true. Mine were ripped away by a man I thought I loved. I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never dance professionally, but at least I get to keep dance in my life this way.

As I'm placing the little mats on the floor for my students to sit on, giggles and chatting fill the hall, alerting me that at least a few of my students are here already. I'm unable to fight the giant grin that spreads across my lips at the sound of their joyous noises. Teaching preschoolers is not an easy feat, but these kiddos have quickly stolen my heart. Especially the sole boy in my class, Andy. He's an absolute gem. His head is always held high, and he sashays around the room like it's his life's duty. The way he answers questions with such sass reminds me of a younger me. I hope he never loses his sparkle. I know from experience how empty it makes you when someone tries to take that away from you.

An eerie shudder creeps up my spine as memories of my past try to open the door I barricaded when I moved to Green Spring, Michigan. It's not often that my brain takes me back to those dark days, but when it does, it throws me for a loop. I've worked so hard to try and forget about the life I left behind, but there are still times that the memories try to rear their ugly head and make me feel small again. I struggle to take in a few deep breaths, but eventually, I'm able to even my breathing out. I give my head a quick shake, shoving the thoughts away. The past is always better left there. I have an amazing life now, and nothing good would come from going back there, even in my head.

After taking a deep inhale through my nose and blowing it out slowly through my mouth, I straighten my messy bun on the top of my head and plaster on my smile before heading towards the door to let my students in. Hopefully, those memories won't try to make an appearance again for a long time.

"Hello, my beautiful angels," I greet the children. "Who's ready to dance their hearts out?"

A bunch of hands rise into the air then they quickly scurry into the classroom. Andy sashaying his way to his mat, like he always does, making my smile grow even wider. Man, I love that kid.

All of my classes fly by quickly like they usually do. By the time I've put everything away, I'm beyond exhausted, but that doesn't stop me from grinning from ear to ear. I love my job. Seeing my students grow and succeed is just the icing on the cake.

"Fuck!" Lyla, another teacher, shrieks from down the hall, causing alarm bells to go off in my head.

Without thinking twice, I race toward her, running as fast as my feet will take me. When I enter her room, I gasp at the amount of water pouring from the ceiling directly onto Lyla.

"What the hell happened?" I ask Lyla, her clothes are soaking wet and her eyes are glassy with unshed tears.

"I-I-I don't know," she stammers while shaking. "I noticed some water on the floor and was cleaning it up when the ceiling opened and started raining on me."

Her teeth chatter, but she doesn't move. She must be in shock, so I step forward, grab her hand, and pull her out of the stream.

"I've got a change of clothes that might fit you," I tell her, dragging her to my room. "I'll call Shelly to let her know that something is leaking."

Lyla nods, trembling from being so cold.

"Do you need me to call an ambulance?" I check, worry creeping its way up and how badly my friend is trembling.

"I think I'll be okay as soon as I get out of these wet clothes," she assures me.

I stare at her for a moment, trying to decide if I believe her or not, but besides the shivers, she doesn't look too bad. I'll just make sure to keep an eye on her after she's changed.

Once I've given her my clothes, I grab my phone and call our boss Shelly.

"Is everything okay?" Shelly answers, confusion evident in her voice since I never call her at this hour.

"I'm sorry, but it's not. Do you know where the building's water shutoff is? The ceiling in the red room is pouring water, but we don't know why. Lyla is changing right now; she got soaked when the ceiling opened above her."

"Was she hurt?" Shelly asks with a concerned tone.

"I don't think so, just shaken up by being drenched in freezing water."

"Shit," Shelly curses under her breath. "I don't think you'll be able to access the water shut off. I'm on my way. I'll call Mack on the drive. If anything else happens, please let me know."

"You've got it," I assure her as Lyla reenters the room.

"I can't believe that happened," she grumbles, "you'd think there would have been more than a small puddle of water before the ceiling started pouring like that."

"It was the corner of the room where the storage area is. Maybe the majority of water is under the shelves, and you couldn't see it."

Lyla hums her agreement. "Wait, isn't there an old guy who lives above the dance studio? Do you think he's okay?"

Shit I had completely forgotten about the man who lives upstairs. Picking my phone up again I re-dial Shelly's number.

"What now?" she answers.

"Lyla reminded me of the old guy who lives above the studio. Should we call the cops to make sure he's okay?"

"Mack told me Abel is out of town this week so he should be fine," she assures me. "But Mack's on his way as well and has keys to the apartment, so he'll check it out."

I relay the information to Lyla, who instantly relaxes as we wait for our boss and the owner of the building to arrive.

Mack and Shelly show up within minutes of each other, and Mack shuts the water off before heading upstairs to check on the apartment.

Shelly gasps when we enter the red room and even I'm caught off guard at the sight. There is so much more water than the last time Lyla and I were in here. "Holy shit," she whispers before walking out of the room with me and Lyla on her heels. "It's late. There's nothing more you can do, so head home, and I'll call you both in the morning."

"Are you sure you don't want help cleaning up?' Lyla asks.

Shelly shakes her head. "We'll figure out everything tomorrow."

"This fucking sucks," I murmur as we walk out of the building.

"It's going to be fine," Lyla tells me, then nibbles on her lower lip. "Isn't it?"

"You saw how much damage there was, Lyla. There's a strong possibility the studio will be forced to shut down for a while."

She pouts. "Fuck."

"You can say that twice."

"I guess it's time to start job hunting again," she says with a sigh.

I nod, then give her a hug, wishing her all the best before heading in the opposite direction to my house.

I can't believe this is happening. It's just my fucking luck. But I don't have time to let panic set in. I have to come up with a gameplan, and fast.

This isn't the first time I've had to pivot and come up with a new plan, and it most likely won't be the last. Unfortunately, I don't have any money to fall back on this time, but I won't let that derail me. I'm so close to having my dreams come true and I'll do anything to make that happen. I've never let anything keep me down and I sure as hell won't let this stop me. I'm a fighter and will handle anything the universe throws at me. I just kind of wish I didn't have to keep fighting all the time.