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chapter twenty three

i didn’t realise until today that seeing a man in a tutu was a turn on

“ A urora, I swear to God, if you turn up to practice tonight with any more injuries…” Aspen’s voice crackled through the line, sharp with exasperation and a slither of annoyance that felt oddly similar to what I imagined having a protective older sister would feel like.

“It wasn’t that bad,” I protested, glancingdown at the bandage peeking out from under my skirt. “Barely a car. More like a very determined bumper.”

Aspen didn’t find it funny. “A sprained wristand a gash on your thigh say otherwise. You’re lucky, Aurora. So damn lucky.”

She wasn’t wrong. I felt lucky. The kind oflucky that made you hyper-aware of every breath, every step, and every ache that could have been so much worse.

“I know,” I said, forcing a lightness into myvoice. “I promise I’ll be careful. After we’re done here, Cora’s bodyguard is taking us back—”

A sharp click from across the studio cut meoff. I turned to see Cora standing nearby, her brows furrowed as she made an exa ggerated chopping motion across her neck. “What?” I mouthed.

She rolled her eyes and leaned closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. “We’re taking a cab,” she snapped. “Jamie’s not taking us.”

Confused, I blinked at her but shrugged it off.“Change of plans. We’re taking a cab.” I said into the phone.

“However you get home, just get there in onepiece,” Aspen urged, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“I will,” I promised, my lips curving into asmall smile.

“Good. Let me know how ballet goes. You’llwake up tomorrow aching in places you didn’t even know you could ache, but it’ll be worth it. Trust me. You’ll thank me when you nail your technique at regionals.”

I chuckled. “I’m sure I will. See you, Aspen.”

“Later, Rory.”

As the call ended, I turned my attention backto Cora. “What’s the deal? Why isn’t Jamie coming?”

Her shoulders tensed as she adjusted herblack leotard, her expression carefully neutral for someone who had a resting bitch face eighty percent of the time. “He’s just… not. And I don’t want to talk about it.” The sharpness in her tone stung, but before Icould respond, she exhaled, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Sorry. I’m just really, really stressed.”

Daisy, who had been fiddling with the layersof her tutu, looked up with a cheerful grin. “Well, that’s why we’re here. To de-stress, remember?”

Cor a arched a brow, her lips curving into afaint smirk. “I thought it was because Rory was too scared to come alone.”

“Hey!” I grabbed a pointe shoe from my bagand threw it at her. The ribbons fluttered in the air like streamers before landing harmlessly by her feet.

Daisy laughed, tugging her pink tights higheras she stretched her leg onto the barre. “That, and because ballet just looks so… therapeutic, doesn’t it?”

Before any of us could answer, the studiodoors flew open with a loud bang. A flurry of blonde hair, a pastel pink leotard, and a matching tutu burst into the room like a whirlwind.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” Goldie panted, sliding to a stop in front of us, her cheeks flushed.

At the front of the mirrored studio, MissGirelle’s sharp eyes narrowed. The sunlight streaming through the windows highlighted the streaks of silver in her tightly wound bun as she crossed her arms.

“Excuse moi!” Her accent sliced through theroom. “Zis class is precious. Latecomers must prove zey are committed to ze art of ballet.” Her gaze pinned Goldie in place. “Are you committed?”

Goldie’s wide eyes darted to me, her face pale under the flush. I gave her a small nod of encouragement. “Yes, ma’am. One thousand per centcommitted.”

Miss Girelle’s lips pursed, her expressionunreadable before she waved a hand dismissively. “Zen hurry up. Warm up s’il vous pla?t.”

Gol die released a shaky breath and hurriedover to us, her bag slipping off her shoulder. “God, everyone I ran past on the street must’ve thought I was insane,” she muttered.

Cora glanced up from her seat, deadpan. “At least the rest of the world is finally catching on.”

Goldie shot her a mock glare before breakinginto a grin. “Happy birthday to me, right?”

“Thank you, guys. For coming,” I said quietly,my voice barely above a whisper.

They didn’t need to be here. But when they’d pulled me aside last night and asked if I was okay, I hadn’t been able to hold back. I’d admitted how nervous I was, though I wasn’t sure why. Every time I tried to pinpoint the reason, my thoughts strayed back to the crash.

The memory flickered in my mind, but not the worst parts. No, instead, I thought of blonde hair, green eyes, and shoulder so tall and broad they cast the same shadows that Everest did.

I hadn’t seen Finn in days—a week, maybe?Ever since the crash, come to think of it. Which was weird, considering how we left things. Usually, we would’ve had ice time or a study session in the library by now but… nothing. Part of me wanted to blame the distance on being away from Liberty, but it didn’t feel right. It had to do with that night. I was sure of it.

I was scared.

Of me?

Of losing you.

His words echoed like a song I couldn’t forget.If he showed up at Goldie’s party tonight, I’d ask him.

The key word being if.

Three sharp claps snapped me out of mythoughts. Miss Girelle stood in the centre of the room, her hands raised. “Now, my little primas. Let us zee what we are working with!”

Before we could move into place, the doors slammed open once more. I froze, my eyes widening at the sight. Standing there, panting slightly, were Tristan and Jesse. Both were dressed in pink tights and snug grey tank tops that clung to their torsos like second skins.

“What the fuck—” Cora whispered, her jawdropping.

Miss Girelle raised a single, unimpressedbrow. “Can I help you, gentlemen?”

Tristan exchanged a look with Jesse beforestepping forward. “Uh, yeah. We’re here to start our New Year’s resolution. You know, to become ballerinas. This is the right place, right?”

Miss Girelle’s eyes narrowed. “The new yearis still two months away.”

Jesse shrugged. “Call us eager.”

Snickers erupted around the room, and Iturned to Goldie, whispering, “Care to explain?”

She bit her lip, guilt flickering across her face.“I told Tristan we were coming here because you were nervous… and I may have told him that I was nervous too, so…” She nodded toward the boys.

Daisy raised her hand, her voice hush as she leant towards my ear. “Actually, Jesse joiningwas my idea.”

Mis s Girelle sighed, pinching the bridge of hernose before waving them in. “Seigneur, donne-moi la force. 1 Find a space and warm up!”

Tristan strolled over to Goldie, his tattoos stark against the pink.“Couldn’t find black tights?” she teased.

“These were the only ones that fit,” he saidwith a shrug. “Kind of into it, honestly.”

“Same,” Jesse added, towering over Daisyeven when he bent into a stretch. “Surprisingly comfy.”

As our hushed laughs rippled through the studio, I couldn’t help but smile. My heart swelled, warmth spreading through to the tips of my fingers at the sight of my friends.

But even surrounded by them, his absencelingered like a shadow. Finn wasn’t here, and it felt wrong—like waking up expecting sunlight but finding the darkest storm clouds instead.

Still, I smiled, fluffed my tutu, moved into position and danced. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about why he wasn't around.

“What on earth are you supposed to be?”

All heads turned toward Cora, who stood inthe corner, her puffy yellow-and-gold costume taking up most of the space.

“Anyone can see I'm a custard tart,” she declared, earning achorus of laughter.

We’d finally landed on the theme for Goldie’sparty—her favourite things.

Daisy’s costume was a clever textbookensemble, made of taped pages from Goldie’s old psych textbooks, sporadically placed around her dress. Jesse looked as adorable as a six-foot-three man could, dressing as a lemon to honour Goldie’s favourite colour. Tristan, ever the dramatic, had transformed into the sexy-fae hero from Goldie’s favourite romantasy series, complete with pointy ears, black contacts, and a flowing black cape.

And me? I’d drawn inspiration from the coffeecup lids I doodled on for everyone. My outfit was a cream-colored dress, with swirls of brown, and just enough sparkle and cleavage to qualify as “sexy.” Finished with a tiny sun doodle at the hem of the skirt, skimming the middle of my thighs.

Goldie nearly doubled over laughing when shesaw me. “You’re my coffee cup?” she gasped as she looked over me, her glittering silver dress lighting up her face. “Rory, that’s genius.”

“I thought so too until your overlord over there totally stole the show.” I teased, pulling her into a hug. "Happy birthday."

She smiled as she pulled away, before turning to Jess. “And I’msurprised you didn’t turn up in your outfit from earlier.”

Jesse shrugged, mischief in his smirk. “Iwould have. Peter Pan was onto something with those tights.”

The townhouse felt the most alive it had inweeks, and part of me wanted to keep it like this forever. Disco balls hung from the ce iling, their reflections scattering across the room. Goldie’s cake sat on the coffee table, adorned with bows and sunflowers, while bowls of snacks filled every available surface. Giant ‘2’ and ‘0’ balloons leaned against the wall beneath a banner that read, “Goodbye Teens, Hello Twenties.” One of Tristan’s songs played in the background—the one that had been number one for three weeks now.

Everything about tonight felt perfect.

Then the doorbell rang, slicing through thelaughter.

Tristan jogged over to the door and opened it,and before I could prepare myself, I heard his laugh. And then I saw him.

Finn stepped inside, and right away I could seeit. His usual easygoing demeanour was muted, replaced by something quieter, more guarded. Still, he managed his signature dimple-inducing smile as everyone turned to look.

“What are you dressed as?” Daisy asked,tilting her head.

Finn glanced down at his outfit—a plain blackT-shirt, dark jeans, and fake tattoos snaking up his arms. “I’m Tristan,” he said simply. “Duh.”

The room erupted in laughter. Even Tristangrinned, clapping Finn on the shoulder as he walked in and handed him a beer.

Never looking once at me. Not even a glance.

God, I knew something was up. The only thingwas I had no idea what that something was.

Songs came and went, slightly alcoholic drinkswere consumed, and all throughout the night he laughed and smiled at the right moments, but his eyes were distant, restless.

And still not glancing at me.

Blaming myself wasn’t right. I’d barely seenhim, so the chances of me pissing him off or doing something to scare him were lower than low. After another ten minutes of ruling out every possible other reason apart from what happened last week, I felt my curiosity slip over the line and morph into something darker.

“I’m tired of not telling you how I feel.”

Was that just something he’d said to stop metalking? Was it just an empty confession to skate around the truth? It must have been if he hadn't spoken to me, or looked at me since. Right?

Oh screw this.

If he wasn’t coming to me thenI’d go to him.

And if he ignors you?

I didn’t want to answer that right now.

Determined to figure him out, I grabbed aready-made cocktail from the table, the good stuff we’d asked Tristan to buy since he was twenty-one now. I straightened up, confidence radiating as I made my way over to him.

“Hi,” I said, studying his face for any cracks inhis forced smile.

He chuckled softly, as his eyes raked me up and down. As though I hadn’t been in the same room as him all night. “Well,” He smirked. “I don’t think I’ve ever craved a cup of coffee more in my life.”

My breath caught. He hadn’t texted me,or spoken to me in what felt like forever, yet he was perfectly fine flirting with me in front of our friends? Strange.

Testing him, I leaned closer, lowering myvoice to a whisper. “And I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to kiss Tristan more in my life.”

My skin buzzed as I waited for a reaction, forany sign that he was there, but nothing came. His expression didn’t change. No widened eyes. No flicker of jealousy. Nothing. It was almost as if he knew I was trying to read him. Or he'd gotten spooked and was beggining to back away again.

The noise from the room faded, like a blankethad been thrown over us, locking us in this spar that neither one of us wanted to yield from. Before he could respond, I spoke again. “Haven’t seen you much since the accident.”

And that got a reaction. It was subtle, but I’dspent that much time with this boy even the tiniest difference was noticeable to me. His weight shifted. His shoulders squared. His throat bobbed as he swallowed nothing.

I knew it. He was still shaken.

But just as quickly as it faded, his practised smile reappeared. “Missed me, Greene?” he asked, taking the glass from my hands and sipping it, his lips wrapping around the edges.

My legs wobbled as I watched him. His smirk told me he knew exactly what he was doing, distracting me—or trying to.

Before I could respond, Goldie appeared at myside, snapping me out of the spell. “Come on, it’s Twister time.”

I b linked, the sounds of the room rushing backin. “Twister?” I asked, forcing my gaze away from Finn.

“Jesse’s idea,” she said, rolling her eyes.

I stole one last glance at Finn. He only smiled, effortlessly cool as he leaned against the wall, like nothing in the world could touch him. Like nothing ever had.

But I knew better.

A weight settled in my chest as I turned to follow Goldie and the others into the kitchen. My feet moved, but my mind stayed behind—with him.

Whatever this was, it ran deep. I could feel it.

And I was going to find out why.

Just as soon as my limbs weren't tanlged with everyone elses.

Twister ended way quicker than any of usexpected. God knows what Tristan had put in those cocktails, but half of us were sprawled across the kitchen floor, giggling at absolutely nothing, clearly buzzed from our first drunk night together. I stayed perched at the table after my one and only round where I was sure I'd sprained my ankle. Again. But watching the chaos unfold as Cora, Jesse, Tristan, Goldie, and Daisy all became a tangled mess of limbs on the Twister mat was just as fun.

Until I remebered that someone was missing.

Finn had barely been watching the antics unfold, slipping out of the room at least half anhour ago, leaning in to whisper something to Tristan before disappearing entirely. The others had barely managed to untanglethemselves before diving back into another game, but I wasn’t in the mood to stick around. My gaze lingered on the doorway for a beat too long, my mind wander ing to him, to that fake smile that hadn’t been fooling me all night.

I stood before I could overthink again,weaving my way through the mess of chairs and fallen deorations, and ventured into the house to find him.

But I wasn’t searching for long.

Turning into the hallway, I stopped in my tracks. He was sitting on the stairs, right in the middle of the staircase, clutching his glass like it was the only thing keeping him steady. His head was tilted down, his expression soft, almost sad. That confident version of him from before gone entirely. But the moment his eyes met mine, the mask snapped back into place.

His smile bloomed, easy and charming, butbrittle. Far from the real thing.

“There you are,” I said, my voice light butsearching. “Hiding out?”

He raised his drink in a lazy mock salute. “Justenjoying the ambience.”

Before I could respond, he opened his mouth,his expression shifting as the mask slid into place. It was so seamless it might have fooled anyone else. But not me. I saw the effort in the set of his shoulders, the way his jaw tightened—his armour ready for battle. “How’s training going?” he asked, his voicehoarse, as though he’d been screaming into his hands moments before.

I stopped a few steps below him, my handcurling around the railing. “Good, I guess. Exciting, nerve wracking… all the usual things.” I hesitated, measuring my words. “My injuries weren’ t nearly enough to stop me from performing to my best, which is good.”

He went rigid, his entire presence foldinginward.

Something tugged at my heart, a deep achethat spread through every corner. As though we were back to our old selves. Wary. Avoidant. Strangers.

Shaking my head, I climbed the last few stepsand dropped into the seat beside him. “It’s hard not to overthink every second of the routine, though. I keep worrying that I’m not doing enough. Not pushing myself enough. Especially when some of these skaters have had these routines down for years.”

“Don’t overthink it,” he said quickly, nudging my shoulder. “You’re going to kill it. You always do.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, my voice softening. “Iwish you could come.”

He looked away, staring down into the barrel of his glass, swirling whatever was left in there. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

The silence stretched, taut and heavy. He wasdoing that thing again—skimming the surface of the conversation, hoping no one would notice how deep the water ran. But I noticed. I always noticed.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice low andcareful.

A stupid question. I already knew the answer,but I wanted to hear what he’d say. Wanted to know if what he’d said last week was just to shut me up.

“Course.” He nodded, and my heart sank.

He's pushing me away.

His lips pulled into a faint, practised smirk ashe lifted his glass. “It’s this meeting on Saturday, with the Knights rep.” His laugh was sharp, hollow. “I’m worried my French won’t actually impress him as much as I think it will.”

“Finn.” I crossed my arms slowly, leaning against therailing.

“What?” His eyes darted to mine, wary.

I shook my head. “We both know it’s not theFrench. Or the meeting. Or any other excuse you’re about to make for why you’re hiding from all of us. Hiding from… me.”

“I’m not hiding from you,” he shot back,shaking his head like the words were ridiculous.

“But you are.” My voice cracked, thefrustration bubbling over. “And I don’t know what to do because I thought you wanted to be honest with me.” I hesitated, my throat tightening. “Is it me?”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide and clearwith panic. “No. God, no—”

“Then what?” I pressed, reaching for his handwithout thinking. My fingers closed around his, and I squeezed, desperate for him to stop retreating. “Is it this night? Are there too many memories? What happened last week? Just tell me, Finn. Tell me so I don’t have to keep guessing.” My voice lowered, raw and unsteady. “Tell me so we can fix it. Together.”

He exhaled sharply, his head bowing like the weight of his thoughts was too much to carry. The forced smile slipped away, leaving his face unguarded. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“ Why do you care?” His voice cracked, amixture of anger and pain. “Why do you still want to help me? After last year, after the hospital—after everything.” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Why aren’t you running? Why haven’t you figured out I’m too fucking scared to be worth it?”

His words slammed into me, but I didn’tflinch. “You’re not—”

“I am,” he said fiercely, his eyes locking onmine, blazing with frustration. “I’m scared all the time, Rory. And you shouldn’t want someone like that. You shouldn’t want me. And I need to stop wanting you.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat andshuffled closer, my hand tightening around his. “Finn.”

He shook his head, his laugh sharp and hollow.“You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to screw things up so badly you ruin everything. To feel like you’re turning into someone you hate.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” My voicesoftened but didn’t waver. “Tell me so I can understand. Please.”

His breath hitched, his eyes falling to wheremy hand still held his. “You won’t want to stick around once you do.”

“That’s not your call to make.” My fingerstightened. “I’m here, Finn. You don’t get to push me away just because you’re scared.”

His shoulders sagged, the fight draining out ofhim. “You don’t deserve this.”

“Maybe not,” I said, my voice a whisper. “ButI want it anyway. I want you.”

The truth was out before I could steal it back. But some part of me wanted to think that healready knew. And from the way he just stared at me, not backing up, not bolting out the door, I had every intention to believe I was right.

He let out a breath, a breeze against my hotcheeks, as his fingers threaded through mine like he was holding on for dear life.

“My dad.” His voice cracked, and he finallylooked at me, the raw honesty in his gaze nearly knocking the breath out of me. “Mine and Daisy’s. He’s… he’s a mess.”His head sank, but all I did was skate my thumb over the back of his hand. Reassuring him that I was still here.

“We hate talking about it, but sometimes all Iwant to do is scream from the rooftops that he’s the reason behind everything. He’s why I’m like this.” He shook his head, braving my stare. “He’s been a mess ever since our mom died. He ran to alcohol to cope and has been absent since we were twelve. And I hate him for it. But I’m scared… I’m scared I’m going to be like him. That one day, I’ll lose someone, and it’ll break me, and I’ll turn into this… this ghost of a person who can’t even—”

“You’re not him,” I interrupted, knowingenough that the pieces were finally clicking. The sky was finally clearing. “Finn, you’re not your dad.”

“You don’t know that.” His voice was barely awhisper.

“Yes, I do,” I said, my heart hammering in mychest. “Okay, I don’t know him. But from what you just said you don’t even sound related. Because you’re here. You care. And you’re not hiding behind some bottle like he did. You’re showing up, Finn. Even when it’s hard.”

“No, I’m not. I’ve not fucking spoke to yousince the hospital.”

I gripped his hand. “And you’ve just told mewhy. Clearly, there’s a part of you that wants to change.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The party noise, the giggles, blurred into the background, leaving just the two of us in the stillness of the stairwell. His hand, the one holding the drink, trembled slightly.

“Look at me,” I told him, and sure enough, asecond later his eyes were holding mine. I didn’t waste a second before lifting my hand, cupping his jaw like it could protect him from everything he was afraid of. “Do me a favour, and remember this the next time you think that pushing me away is going to work.”

“Remember what—”

And then I kissed him.

It wasn’t planned; it wasn’t even something Ithought about. I just leaned forward, lowering his lips onto mine, pouring everything I couldn’t say into that one, fleeting moment.

Once I felt him settle, I let myself sink intoevery part of it. My stomach hollowed as I felt his lips move against mine, caressing me with a gentle power that was making me dizzy. The clink of his glass on the stairs was the only warning I had before his hands were in my hair, settling at the base o f my neck.

I gave into that pull, leaning into the kiss,leaning against his chest. It was everything I hadn’t let myself imagine, scared of the moment he didn’t need me any more and we went back to being barely friends.But the way he stole the command from me,parting my lips with his tongue, made me question whether we were ever barely friends, but two people who were scared to admit how they really felt in case this all fell apart.

A tiny whimper slipped through the cracks,which only made Finn pull me closer. My hands fell to his thighs, purely to steady myself as he swapped my hair for the small of my back, like he knew I was moments away from passing out and needed him to be my anchor.

He kissed me harder, and I didn’t think twicebefore swiping my tongue over his, earning me a groan that would have made my eyes roll back if they weren’t already closed.

A sharp chorus of laughter was the only thingthat broke up the kiss.My heart plummeted to my toes as I pulledaway, as did Finn, our heads spinning to the light spilling through the hallways from the kitchen. But thankfully it was just the light, and nothing else.

As I turned my head back to Finn, catching the breaths he’d stolen, I found his eyes already on me.

My eyes fell back to his lips, all red and wet and swollen from what we’d done.

That thought was the reality check I waswaiting for.

I’d just kissed Finn Rhodes.

And he’d kissed me back.

I h adn’t realised my head had sank until I felthis hand under my chin, lightly tipping it until I caught his gaze.

“I don’t want to push you away,” he saidsoftly, like the world was finally making sense. Like he was seeing sense.

I nodded, my bottom lip sinking between my teeth as his words settled in my head. “Then don’t.” My smile was gentle. “In fact, I’m not going to let you.”

Before I could do anything, his hand slid frommy chin to my jaw, his mouth back on mine before I could take a breath. It was quick. Needed. Nothing more than a promise that he was going to do exactly what I’d said and remember this the next time he got caught up in his thoughts.

When he pulled back, the first thing I saw washis smile, before his lips parted. “Is that a threat, Greene?”

I blinked up at him, shaking my head. “It’s apromise.”

1. Lord, give me strength.