“I’m so happy for you, dear. For both of you.”
When I hear the water shut off, I say, “Thanks, Mom. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Love you.”
“You too.”
I walk over and grab her empty luggage off the bed and take it downstairs to store it in the guest bedroom closet before heading back upstairs. Slipping into bed, I don’t have to wait too long before Candace comes out and crawls under the sheets with me.
As she lets out a heavy sigh, she says, “I’m exhausted.”
“It was a long day, huh?”
“Too long,” she says with a breathy laugh.
“So, my mom said we could come out for a visit. She’s anxious to see you. I told her you would call tomorrow.”
“Oh . . . umm . . .”
Seeing the hesitation on her face, I ask, “What?”
She inches down and lays her head on the pillow, and I do the same as we face each other.
Reading her eyes, I ask, “What’s going on?”
“It didn’t feel weird to me until you called her.”
“Is that why you rushed in to take a shower?”
I watch as her eyes drop and I ask, “Tell me what makes this feel weird?”
She moves her eyes up to mine when she says, “Because she knows.”
“Knows what?”
“What you told her about what happened . . . to me.”
Pulling her in close, I tell her, “Please don’t let it make you feel weird. You know a lot of her secrets too, babe.”
“But she doesn’t know that. It’s awkward because I’m aware that she knows this about me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I hate that people know,” she mumbles as she rests her forehead against my chest while I run my hand down her back.
Leaning down, I kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry I told her, I—”
She cuts me off, looking up at me and saying, “Don’t be sorry. I’m not mad about it, just embarrassed.” She quickly moves her fingers to my mouth to keep me from talking, adding, “And I know you’re gonna tell me to not be embarrassed, but there’s no way around it. I just am.”
I kiss her fingers and then take her hand, holding it against me. “She loves you. She has her own past that I know is embarrassing to her. She never wanted anyone to know either. That’s all I’m gonna say,” I tell her lightly and then put an end to all of the talking for some much needed kissing.
Chapter Forty-seven
“She’s living with you?” Max questions before laughing and saying, “This from the guy who once gave me shit for Traci moving in with me.”
“Go ahead, man. Get your laughs in, but I don’t give a shit.”
“I know you don’t,” he says. “I’m really happy for you. I was getting tired of your broody side.”
Packing up my things, I let out a chuckle when I say, “Me too.”
“You guys should come over. I know Traci would like the company. She’s going a little crazy being at home every day.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll talk to Candace and call you. I gotta run though. She signed all of her contracts today with that ballet company, and I wanna be there when she gets home,” I tell him as I start heading out.
“See ya.”
When I get back to the loft, Candace’s car is already there, and when I walk in, she’s finishing up a phone call. I don’t wait as I go to her and pull her in for a hug, lifting her off the floor.
“Okay, thanks. I’ll see you then,” she says and then hangs up before kissing me.
“How did everything go?” I ask when I set her down.
“Good. I start tomorrow.”
“That soon?”
Smiling at me, she says, “Yeah. Auditions for the first performance run are in August.”
“You’re gonna have to explain how all this works, babe, because I don’t know the first thing about what your job is going to look like.”
We walk over to take a seat in the living room, and I reach out to set her on my lap as she explains, “Okay, so basically a season runs from September to June. I’ll have typical rehearsals throughout the week with about five to seven performance runs that I’ll have to audition for. Performance runs are around two weeks long with matinees and evening shows. Normally they have a two-month run around the holidays, but they cast two dancers for each role to divide up the schedule. So I’ll have some time off for Christmas, hopefully.”
“You seem excited.”
“I am, but I’m mostly nervous. Most of these girls have done their apprenticeships up there and already know each other. I’m the only one coming from a university,” she tells me.
“You’ll be fine,” I assure her. “I’m so happy for you, babe.”
I kiss her dimple when she smiles, and then ask, “Who were you talking to when I came in?”
“Oh,” she says as she sits up, looking a little flustered. “Um, that was Dr. Christman, my therapist. I needed to get back on her schedule. But . . . umm . . .”
“What is it?” I ask when she starts hesitating.
“Well, I told her what happened with the whole New York thing and moving in with you. She suggested that maybe you could come in with me for my next appointment, but you can say no,” she says timidly, avoiding my eyes.