She was finally in the process of opening her own burlesque dance studio. Demand for her services was already high, all of her classes were full, and she had waiting lists, dozens of names long.
Erica often thought about the kidnapping, and it still made her breath stop in her chest. But she was speaking regularly to a psychiatrist, and she was starting to move past it. But sometimes in the middle of night, she still felt the same fear and desperation she felt when she’d faced down Dylan O’Connell. In the night, she would reach out for the warmth of Peter’s strong arms, but she found only her bed, empty and cool beside her.
Erica took another drink, about to head back to her dressing room. But something stopped her. Something made her hair stand on end. She felt him before she had ever laid her eyes on him. She turned around.
Peter.
He was standing behind her, watching her, and he went to her. His sling had disappeared. But his hair was still long, and his cheeks rough with stubble.
“That was some dance,” he told her.
“Thank you,” she answered quietly. She took a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”
“I bought a ticket,” he said, simply. He looked around, taking in the many people milling about. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Um, yeah, follow me,” she told him, leading him to an empty dressing room. She turned the lock and looked at him, still not quite believing that he was there.
She smacked him –hard – on the chest. “Ow,” she pulled back her hand and shook it while he didn’t even flinch. She could have hit him harder.
“So, what are you doing here?” she asked him again, her anger sounding loud and clear.
“I came to see you.”
“And you’ve seen me. Now what?”
“I’ve been really stupid,” he admitted. “I wanted to call you, but every time I dialed your number, I disconnected before any rings went through.”
“And had you not wussed-out, what would you have said to me?” Erica’s lips turned up slightly when she saw how uncomfortable he was with the question.
“I would have apologized. Again,” he said. “I would have told you that I want to do anything to make it right again.”
Erica’s heart fluttered at his words.
“I would have told you that I’ve been seeing a therapist. And that she’d helping me realize that you were right. What happened to Kelly wasn’t my fault.
“I’m glad you’re seeing a therapist. Is it helping?”
“It is. I thought that I was pushing you away to protect you from being hurt. But I was actually protecting myself. I was afraid to love you.”
Love? “Peter. I don’t know what to say.”
He took her hands in his, and she looked down at where he grasped her. “Say you’ll give me another chance.”
Erica felt the tears pooling under her lashes. One escaped and fell, leaving a wet trail over her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. For six weeks, all she wanted was to be with him again. And now, here he was, saying such beautiful things to her.
“Erica,” he stepped up to her, and put his palms on her shoulders. “I love you. But if you don’t want to be with me, I understand. I just needed to tell you that.”
Erica exhaled, still too shocked to say anything. Too shocked to move. She watched him closely. She loved him, too. How could she possibly deny that? They’d both suffered so greatly, and they needed each other. She had been a wreck without him, and from the look in his eyes, and the despair in his voice, he obviously hadn’t fared much better.
She went to him. “We still have a lot to sort out.”
“I know we do, but I’m willing to work for this.”
Another tear escaped. “Me too.” She went to him. “Peter, I love you too. I’ve missed you so much.”
He pulled her close and kissed her. She nearly fainted from the pleasure of having him pressed against her again. She couldn’t believe it was real. That he was there with her. But when his hand slipped into her robe and found her breast, which was only covered with a glittery pasty, she moaned and backed away from his grasp.
“We can’t do this,” she breathed.
“Why?” he asked, while coming toward her. He kissed her again, and she had to duck away from him.
She laughed. “Believe me, I would love nothing better right now, but I still have another number to perform. I have to get ready.”
He smiled, and backed away slowly. “Okay. I guess I’ll take my seat, then. But I will see you after.”
Erica nodded. “I can’t wait,” she said, smiling at the man she loved as he walked out the door of the dressing room. But unlike six weeks ago, the time she had walked out the door, away from him, it wasn’t goodbye. Their separation wasn’t for good. Peter was right, she would see him after the show.
A couple of months ago, Erica had lamented that her life lacked excitement and danger. As she watched him close the door she felt a thrill course throughout her body that only he could cause. Erica no longer needed the danger to know that he would provide her with all of the excitement that she needed.
THE END
Bump & Grind (Brewed Moon Book 1) Page 20