Amour Amour (Aerial Ethereal #1)(104)

Surprise coats his face. I guessed right. “I’ve taught you well,” he murmurs.

He can’t dodge this. “What happened?” Elena is supposed to be in her first show next week, the aerial silk act returning to Amour.

His fingers skim the bareness of my shoulder blades. “She was fired.”

My face falls. “What?”

“She wasn’t improving to Aerial Ethereal’s standards, ‘not ready to perform’ they cited, and so management revoked her contract. They let her go this evening.”

My mind spins, trying to determine his sentiments on the situation and my own. He’s upset, I realize quickly. Really upset. The nonstop sex says enough. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “What does this mean for you?”

“They’re putting the aerial silk act on hiatus, not retiring it but not actively seeking a replacement. I spent five months with Elena, training her, working with her. And it’s all a waste.” His gray eyes storm below me.

I touch his strong jaw and kiss his lips gently. “It’ll be okay,” I say. “Helen and the rest of the directors love you.” But I can’t forget how Elena looked at me—in the gym. And I wonder how much time I ate from her training. He’s reading me right now. My lost expression.

“It’s not your fault,” he says.

Why didn’t I question it though? “Did you train her more than you did me?”

He’s quiet.

My stomach drops and I gape. “Nik.”

“I wouldn’t have practiced with her any more than I did, regardless if you were in Vegas or not.”

I want to believe him. Otherwise, it hurts too much to think that I may be the reason his act is shelved for eternity. And the reason why Elena was sent home.

That’s not how this is supposed to go. Not at all.





Act Forty-Two



It’s midnight, the gym empty and only half the lights turned on. The trapeze and Russian swing are shrouded in darkness. I’ve been here since noon and still no one has really filtered inside. It’s Thanksgiving, and instead of sulking about not being with family, not having the money for a plane ticket, I just focus on training.

I breathe heavily, lying supine on the blue mats. I still can’t land everything I saw in Amour, during that climatic group act. Not without being harnessed.

But I’m closer to nailing the aerial silk drop. When I fall, I’m now five feet from the floor, not seven. That has to count for something. Right?

The heavy double doors click open, and I prop my sore body on my elbows. The hall light streams into the darker area of the gym, until the door shuts. For a split second, I wonder if coming to the gym alone was such a good idea. But Nikolai had Thanksgiving festivities with his whole extended family, and I didn’t need him to miss that for me.

“You look exhausted.”

My shoulders sag at the familiar, deep voice. “It’s been a long day.”

Nikolai emerges into the light, his hands in his black slacks. He removes them as he sits in front of me, resting his forearms on his bent knees.

I notice a bit of…I motion to his hairline. “Pie?” I smile.

He brushes the pumpkin residue. “Dimitri.”

“Did you get him back?” I ask, slightly sad I missed it. You needed to train. That’s why you’re here, Thora. I know.

“With a butter cream pie.” His lips curve up in that charming smile, the one I see on Saturday nights. “I wish you were there.”

“This is more important.” I hate that each word hurts to say and to hear.

He nods, this tension stretching between us, from the uncertainty of our futures. It’d be easier if we knew where we’ll stand. But we’re riding towards a big gray cloud.

The double doors click open again, louder voices emanating. “He was not flirting with me,” Katya refutes. Nikolai stiffens, but Katya is still in darkness, the door thudding closed.

“I fear for you, sister,” Timo says. “Said boy tells you that you’re pretty, that you have nice legs, and he touches your hair. Said girl thinks he’s friendly. Next thing you know, you’ll be in bed with him and think oh wait, he actually likes me.”

“He didn’t compliment me like that,” she refutes.

Timo whistles. “Someone’s in denial. What do you think, Luka? Flirting or no flirting?”

“Honestly, I want to self-eject from this conversation.”

Timo laughs, and all three siblings step into the light. Literally. “Thora James,” Timo exclaims with a wide, dazzling grin. He carries a half-eaten apple pie and a bundle of forks. Luka has a pumpkin one in hand. Katya, a chocolate.

“Hey,” I say, a smile growing. “How was the family feast?”

“Boring,” Luka says, sitting next to Nikolai.

Timo plops next to me, slinging his arm around my shoulder. “Entertaining.”

“Draining,” Katya adds with a sigh. She chooses the spot between me and Nikolai. Which is really the only free place in the circle, since I face him.

Boring. Entertaining. Draining.

“In that order,” Nikolai says to me, lightness in his eyes. I’m having a hard time not smiling right now, even sweaty, muscles achy and heart on a slow descent.