Young Love Dies Hard: The Young Brothers, Book 1 by Nikki Lane (old books to read txt) 📗

message after I hadn’t answered his one and only call. I couldn’t. It had been the first time in almost two months that we’d been that close to one another. I’d spot him on campus from time to time, and sometimes we’d even made eye contact, but only for a few seconds before one of us would look away. It was usually me first.

I had avoided the library in an effort to prevent another run-in with him. It was his favorite spot to study, after all. I had been asking for it to happen when I showed up there yesterday to study for finals. But maybe, that had been my plan. Who was I kidding? I knew exactly what I was doing.

I slid my finger over his message and hit the delete button. Reading it again for the millionth time wasn’t doing me any good.

I rolled off the bed with a groan and trudged through the room. I’d been leaving the apartment for only two things these last two days—to go to class and to pick up takeout or make a trip to the corner store.

By the time I made it to the dance studio, my mood had gotten a little lighter. The owner of the studio was a vet tech by day who worked with Jacob. She’d let me take the classes à la carte at a discounted rate. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed being in the dance studio. The teacher wasn’t any older than me, but I wasn’t there to learn anything new. I was just there to settle my head from all the things that awaited me as soon as I stepped back out into the world.

When class was over, I didn’t bother to change out of my leotard and just switched from dance shoes to sneakers. I glanced up while tying my laces when I noticed Billy coming my way.

“Hey, Maeve,” she said, sitting down next to me. She’d already let her dark hair loose from its tight bun.

“Hey.” I smiled back and slipped my foot into the other shoe.

“Great job tonight.”

“Thanks. It was a lot of fun.”

“You really looked like you knew what you’re doing.”

I shrugged. “You looked a little overwhelmed.”

“I’m not really great with the little ones.”

Shelby had quickly learned the group of four- and five-year-olds, who had to join our group when their teacher quit without any notice, had a very limited attention span. I tried my best to help keep the littler ones occupied so that the teenagers weren’t so bored.

I crossed one leg over the other to tie the laces. “I’ve been dancing since I was little.”

She nodded. “You’re really great with the other girls.”

I smiled again, sensing she was beating around the bush. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, upbeat. She scanned the room. “Actually…I wanted to ask you something.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

I leaned in closer to make out what she was about to say.

“Could you…I mean, would you mind…filling in next week…as a teacher?”

I swayed back. “What?”

“Just for this one class.” She kneaded her hands in her lap. “It’s the five-, six-, and seven-year-olds. It’s only an hour. Twice a week.”

I shook my head. “I’ve never taught—”

“You’re a natural. I know you know what to do. I can’t find anyone else to fill in on such short notice. And I totally understand if you don’t want to do it. But I think you would be great at it. And, of course, you’d get paid. I mean, it’s not much…”

I opened my mouth to say something but drew a blank. I didn’t know the first thing about teaching a dance class. Maybe if there was a stripper pole in the middle of the room. But that was completely not appropriate nor applicable in this situation. I wasn’t even sure I should be around kids on a regular basis. I wasn’t exactly the model sister to Kasey. Not to mention finals were in two weeks, and I barely opened my books.

“Sure,” I finally sputtered out. “Why not?”

She bounced in the seat and gave me a huge smile. “Thank you. I know you’ll be great.” She got up from her seat. “See you next class?”

I nodded as she scuttled to the door.

* * * *

Ten minutes after my last final, I was already on the road and headed to Aunt Meg and Uncle Jim’s. I had left campus feeling satisfied with how the semester ended. Not the best I could have done. But it certainly could have been worse.

That was behind me now, like the pothole-ridden road in my rear-view mirror. I planned to escape to the farm for the next two days. And I needed it. After cramming over the last week, my brain felt fried. I needed to reset and recharge, and there was no way better to do that than some hard manual labor and Aunt Meg’s home cooking.

Jack was the first to greet me in the driveway. He heaved his two front paws against my stomach, his long, pink tongue bobbing outside of this mouth.

“I missed you, too, buddy.” After a few pats on the head, he meandered toward house.

Inside, Aunt Meg was zipping around the kitchen. She smiled wide when she caught sight of me.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said in a teasing tone. “Kasey! Your sister’s here.” She set the glass bowl down. “Help me put the frosting on your uncle’s cake, would you?”

I dropped my bag in one of the kitchen chairs and washed my hands.

Kasey came barreling down the steps and dipped her finger into the bowl of frosting.

“Gross,” I said, wrinkling my nose.

“Chocolate, my fave,” she said, sucking her finger.

“I hope your hands were clean.” I pulled the bowl away when she tried to go for seconds. “No way!”

She rolled her eyes and sat on the counter next to the cake.

“Just a few more weeks until report cards are out,” she said. “Don’t forget your promise.”

With a long frosting knife in my hand, I was carefully smoothing chocolate buttercream over