Page 84 of Igniting Sparks

One thing I know is I’m falling hard and fast for the tall blonde, and unless my radar is way off, the feeling is mutual.

No, I haven’t told her I love her. Hell, we haven’t even discussed our relationship status, although I know she’s not seeing anyone else. Neither am I.

Unlike my brother in his pre-Ori days, I never sought the company of several women at a clip. Not my style. And now, I don’t have to, because I have a gorgeous ballerina waiting for me at home.

I just wish I could regain control of the Bitsy situation.

Then it hits me—I know exactly how to dismantle her leverage.

The only thing she’s lording over Mina is this dance studio, and although it’s got an excellent reputation and standing in the community, it’s still, at its core, just a business.

And businesses need a little friendly competition.

Why not find another dance studio for rent in the area? A place Mina can take over and live her dancing dreams without kowtowing to her elitist aunt’s demands.

It’s perfect—such a simple concept, I’m kind of shocked I haven’t thought of it before.

Kicking my booted legs up on the desk, I grab my phone and dial Kiki, the local realtor. Time to talk about some listings and turn Bitsy’s plan on its head.

Because here’s the thing about power. It only works if you’ve got something no one else does. And I’m about to make damn sure that’s not the case anymore.

I arrive home later that day with a bouquet, some wine, and a plan.

Kiki admitted dance studios were lacking in the area, but she said she’d make a few calls to see if anything pops up. She also mentioned there might be other buildings that could work with a few tweaks, and I’ve given her the go-ahead to scout those out, too.

For all I know, Bitsy might cave when she catches wind that Mina is branching out on her own—without her help.

Either way, it feels good to have wheels in motion to create the life Mina deserves. On her terms.

But tonight isn’t about business. It’s about romancing my girl.

I’ve decided that we need to havethetalk. Yes, that one.

Look, we have sex almost every day, we live together, and Mina still wears the ring I bought for her.

Funny thing? I’m fine with that knowledge.

That ring might have started as a prop, but it’s become a promise. A promise she’s chosen to keep wearing. And God, do I love her for that.

I like the way it sparkles on her hand, a nonverbal message to others that she’s mine.

Guess she feels the same way, since it’s always on her finger.

No, I’m not planning to march her down the aisle tomorrow or next month. But this is real, and I want the world to know it.

Mostly, I wantherto know it.

So many people have abandoned her—from her father dying, to her extended family writing her off after her ankle injury, to Leo moving across the country.

She’s spent her life contorting herself into a box that doesn’t fit. I’m here to offer her a new one. One built especially for her.

I stash the food in the fridge and lay the flowers on the table before strolling into the living room. “Mina, you around?”

No answer, but I hear the blow dryer in the upstairs bathroom and climb the stairs.

“Mina?”

“I’m in here.”