Hit the Wall - Page 18/66

“Well I was trying to be quiet before you lit into me,” I reminded her.

“Whatever,” she muttered back at me, rolling away.

I pulled off my jeans and climbed under the sheets. It was a good thing Char was so tired and didn’t think to ask me more questions. I was pretty sure she’d have plenty of them for me when I told her that I was going to dinner with Jackson tomorrow night. I just didn’t know what my answers would be.

****

The rest of the day flew by, so I didn’t really have the chance to talk to Char about it. Or maybe I was just better able to avoid bringing it up to her. After my nap, I had finished up a term paper due Monday and then headed to the dance studio to get some extra practice time in. We had our senior showcase coming up pretty soon, and if I wanted any chance of getting work, then I needed to nail my performance. My aunt had disagreed with my decision to follow in my parents’ footsteps by coming to Blythe. She’d warned me that I was ruining my chances of dancing professionally.

As much as I hated to admit it, I thought she might be right. But I didn’t regret my decision at all. I’d been able to spend the last four years feeling closer to ever than my parents. Walking the same sidewalks they had back in the day, dancing in the same studio my mom had used, sitting in classrooms wondering how much they’d changed over the years… These were priceless moments to me. She might not have understood because she was still pissed that my mom had followed my dad here for school instead of going to New York. She would never understand my decision to do the same, but I couldn’t help but want to rub it in her face if I got an offer.

My desire to prove my aunt wrong spurred me on almost as much as my love for dance. She could have made my college years easier for me by offering her support, but she’d chosen not to and left me on my own for living expenses. She’d had no choice about covering my tuition, books, and room because of the terms of my dad’s trust. Their life insurance money had been set aside to make sure I could go to college if anything happened to them. My dad had been a planner like that, and school was really important to him. Which was why I hadn’t just majored in dance. I’d done a double with business administration too.

Pulling a double major with two completely unrelated subjects and working to support myself didn’t leave a whole lot of time for fun. Or boys. Char always told me that I used my schedule as an excuse to keep guys at arm’s length. It was easier to pick nice guys who let me keep my walls in place and didn’t ask for more than I was willing to give. Guys who were the complete opposite of Jackson Silver.

So why couldn’t I get him out of my head as I got ready for work? Thoughts of him had popped into my head all day, even while I’d been dancing. Now was the absolute worst time possible to find myself distracted by a guy, no matter how sexy he was.

That didn’t stop me from putting on extra makeup, wearing my tightest work shirt, and straightening my hair before pulling it back as I got ready for my shift though. I was checking my makeup in the mirror when Char came back into the room after her shower.

“Well don’t you just look pretty as a picture,” she teased.

I spun around in a circle like I was showing off a dress. “Why this old thing? I do believe you have one to match. Why don’t you throw it on and we can pretend to be twins!”

Since she was a fair-skinned redhead with green eyes and I was perpetually tan with dark brown hair and eyes to match, Char just rolled her eyes at me before throwing on her outfit, which pretty much matched mine except she went for a less naughty shirt tonight. Mine said “Want A Piece of Ass?” on the front and had the recipe for the drink on the back. I usually didn’t wear this one since it inevitably resulted in lots of cheesy pickup lines, but I was in the mood to stir up a little trouble tonight. I was sure I’d be serving a lot of shots made with amaretto, Southern Comfort, and sour. At least our boss would appreciate the bump in sales.

“What’s up with the sassy shirt, hair, and makeup?” Char finally asked while we were driving to the bar. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t love it, but it seems a bit out of the ordinary for you.”

“I just felt like doing something different,” I answered.

“And?”

“And nothing. It’s just a change of pace. That’s all,” I argued

“Kaylie, you hate change. I mean, I totally get why with what happened after your parents passed away, but you are the poster child for structure and organization. You never wear that shirt, let alone on the busiest day of the weekend when you know there will be a ton of drunk guys at the bar. I know you too well. Something’s going on.”