Page 19

Eve

The dance studio is silent except for the rhythmic beat of my sneakers hitting the floor and the soft rustle of my breath as I move. My body flows through the routine like it's second nature, the music flooding my senses, guiding every turn, every jump, every step. I'm lost in it, the only place where my mind can finally settle. No pressure. No fear. Just dance.

I don't notice him at first. It's not until I do a quick pirouette that I catch a glimpse of someone standing in the reflection of the mirrored wall. I freeze for a split second, caught off guard, my heart skipping a beat. There's no mistaking that tall, broad-shouldered frame—Carson.

I can't help but feel a rush of warmth spread through me as my eyes lock with his in the mirror. He's standing just by the door, his arms casually crossed, his expression a mixture of admiration and something else—something I can't quite read. He's just watching me, quietly, but his presence fills the space in a way that makes everything feel different.

I pause, mid-spin, but I don't let myself break the connection. I have to keep moving, keep my composure. Carson has always been good at being around, at being... everything. He's the kind of person who steps into a room and owns it. It's a little unnerving sometimes, but right now, I find myself drawn to the way he's watching me.

I shake my head, trying to get rid of the thoughts creeping in. "How long have you been standing there?" I ask, my voice a little more breathless than I'd like.

"Long enough," he replies, his grin tugging at the corner of his lips. He pushes off the doorframe and starts walking toward me, each step steady and purposeful.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. "How much of that did you see?"

"All of it," he says, his grin widening. "And I gotta say, you make it look easy."

"Please," I mutter, rolling my eyes, but I feel the blush creeping up my neck. "I've been sweating through the same routine for hours. It's not that impressive."

"I think it's pretty impressive." His tone is light, but there's something in his voice that makes me pause. He means it.

Before I can respond, Carson takes another step toward me and, without any warning, reaches out to pull me into his arms. My body instinctively reacts to his proximity, and before I can protest, I find myself being lifted off the ground, my feet leaving the floor as he wraps his arms around my waist.

"What are you doing?" I ask, laughing a little, trying to wriggle out of his hold.

"I'm taking you home," he says, his voice low and smooth. "You've been working too hard. You need a break."

I open my mouth to protest, but the truth is, I don't want to fight it. I don't want to fight him. I want to feel this moment, however fleeting it may be.

"I missed you today." He murmurs in my ear, pressing kisses all over my face as he picks up my dance bag from the corner of the studio.

"I missed you too." I say quietly, his grey eyes lock onto mine and he traps me in a deep, raw kiss that unfourtantley breaks too soon.

I stop squirming and instead let my head rest against his chest as he walks us out of the studio. It's a strange comfort, this calm that fills the space between us. The quiet hum of the night air greets us as Carson opens the truck door for me, and I slide into the passenger seat, still feeling the warmth of his touch on my skin.

The drive back to my dorm is filled with soft music, the kind that doesn't ask for anything but to be heard. I stare out the window, watching the familiar campus lights blur by. The reality of everything all weigh on me. But for once, it doesn't feel like I'm drowning in it. He asks about my day and as I ramble on about the humiliating fall I suffered after class his hand sneaks up onto my thigh, and feeling like second nature I rest my hand over his, threading our fingers together.

I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He's focused on the road, but the corners of his mouth are tugged up into a smile.

The hum of my phone in my pocket breaks the silence. My heart drops. I already know who it is.

I pull the phone out of my pocket, my fingers trembling as I glance at the screen. "You better come home now, Eve. I don't care how late it is. You'll regret it if you don't."

The words are harsh. My father's words always are. My stomach twists into a knot, but I don't let Carson see. I don't want him to know how much my father's threats affect me. It's been like this for so long—he's always there, always looming, always trying to control every part of me.

Carson's eyes flick to me briefly, sensing the shift in my demeanor, but I quickly lock my phone and shove it back into my pocket, pretending like it didn't shake me.

"You okay?" Carson asks quietly, his voice gentle.

I nod, forcing a smile, trying to push the darkness back down. "Yeah. Just... tired."

He doesn't push it. He just nods and keeps driving, the quiet between us stretching but not uncomfortable.

When we arrive at the dorm, I don't want to say goodbye yet. But before I can gather my thoughts, I notice the door to my room is cracked open. My stomach twists.

I walk inside with Carson close behind me, his hand resting protecitvley on my waist. Elijah is sitting on my desk, playing with on of the pens lying around. My gaze shifts around the room until it lands on Katie, who sits in the corner of the room with her crotchet sticks in her hands. A smile glides across her face as she stares behind me, flickering her eyes back to me she winks.

"Hey Ev-" His head turns toward us as he freezes the moment he sees Carson. His eyes narrow, and the tension in the air becomes palpable.

"What's he doing here?" Elijah's voice is sharp, almost accusatory.

Carson looks at him, his posture stiffening. "I'm just dropping Eve off."

Elijah stands up, his jaw clenching. "She doesn't need you around."

I can feel the heat rising in my chest as I step between them. First Wyatt, now Elijah, I'm starting to get sick of these guys who think they know what's best for me. "Stop it, Elijah. This isn't the time."

But Elijah doesn't back down. His gaze is locked onto Carson, a simmering anger in his eyes. "You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything? You're a distraction. You've always been a distraction, you're two years older than her for godsake."

I feel my pulse quicken. This isn't how I wanted the night to end. But Carson's stance is firm. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for Eve. And I'm not leaving."

The words hang in the air for a moment, thick with tension. Elijah shakes his head, clearly frustrated. "You don't get it. You've got no place here."

"My place is right by Eves side until she tells me to go." Carson says, his voice unwavering. "I'm not leaving. I'm staying. And I'm not going to let anyone push me out."

Elijah's fists clench, his body tense with barely-contained rage. I step forward again, this time putting my hand on Carson's chest. "Stop," I say, my voice firm. "Both of you, stop."

The room is thick with anger, but I don't back down. I know what this is. Elijah's protective instincts are kicking in, but Carson doesn't deserve to be treated like this. I won't let either of them tear us apart.

"Elijah, I am not a kid. I can make my own choices, stop treating my like a toddler." I say, shifting my weight so I lean back against Carson. "And if you even think about insulting Carson again, it won't be him you will have to worry about." I narrow my eyes at him.

Finally, Elijah sighs, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He throws up his hands, turning toward the door. "Fine. But you're still not good enough for her."

I don't respond. I can't.

The door slams shut behind him, and I turn back to Carson, my breath shallow. He looks at me, his gaze softening. "You okay?" His gaze flickers behind me to Katie, who stands up and walks out the door with Elijah kissing my cheek on the way out.

I nod, but there's a tightness in my chest I can't shake. "I don't want to deal with this. Not tonight." Thanksgiving break starts tomorrow and I've gotten a million invitations from both Lizzie and Luke to spend it with them. But I can't and won't deal with Lukes probing questions, and I don't want to have to third wheel them all the time.

Carson takes a step closer, gently cupping my face in his hands. "Will you come with me to my house for thanksgiving?"

My heart stops for a moment, and I blink up at him in surprise. "You want me to come with you for Thanksgiving?"

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I do. You don't have to go back to your brother, right? I don't want you to feel like you have to deal with all that on your own."

I swallow hard, the weight of his words settling in my chest. I think about my brother—about the constant probing, the questions I don't want to answer. The thought of spending the holiday with Carson feels like a much-needed escape.

"I'd like that," I whisper.

Carson pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me, and for the first time in a long while, I feel like I've found a safe place. A place where I'm not just a daughter, a project, or a burden. I'm just Eve.