Amour Amour (Aerial Ethereal #1)(87)

I remember what Shay said at the pool party. He gives you false hope, so he can sleep with you. “You’re designed to say good things to me,” I breathe, my eyes raw, my throat dry. “You’re my boyfriend.”

He inhales a strong breath and his jaw muscles tic. “You have to separate what I say as your trainer and as your boyfriend.”

“It’s hard,” I whisper, “because both my trainer and my boyfriend are in agreement, aren’t they?”

He stays quiet, not denying that he wants me here, in Vegas.

I ask the most painful question of the night, each word opening me whole. “How much of you wants me to stay because you love me…and how much because you know I will succeed?”

“Thora…” His gray eyes glass, distraught. He tries to rope me in, to lasso me one last time. Not even his intensity can lift me higher. He lowers his body closer to mine. And then he says, very slowly, “I don’t love you.”

My body collapses.

And his eyes begin to pool. “I don’t love you, Thora.” Why does he have to repeat it? He clutches my cheek as I try to turn away. He forces my tearful gaze to his watery one. “I will tell you this every single day if that’s what you need to hear. Just to believe these truths. You’re good enough, myshka. Because you work hard. Because you’re willing to learn. And because you have talent. You wouldn’t be able to pick up skills this quickly if you didn’t. And if you go home now, you’re giving up.”

His words rush through my veins, a drug that tries to soothe the painful parts of me. “But if I stay, there is no guarantee that I’ll land a contract.” I hear my parents in my ear. I hear Shay. I hear everyone else but him.

“There was never a guarantee. And still, you flew out here. You still made a life here. All on your own.” His hands warm my cheeks. “There are so many people in this world afraid to do what you’ve done. They’ll wait around hoping that something will make it easier—a stable job, a friend in the city, any extra security. When it doesn’t happen, they spend the rest of their lives without their passion, wondering what could have been. Don’t latch onto their fear. Not now.”

I hear him. I hear his words that come from a place of love for me. But nowhere in them does he convince me to stay for him. Not once.

My seesawing mind starts to lean towards him. “I think I know why people are so afraid to do this,” I whisper, my face scrunching as I try to hold back another wave of tears. “It feels greater than me.”

Nikolai pulls me into his chest, lying on his side, so that I’m cocooned against him. I bury my face in the warmth of his body, and he strokes my hair, one hand protectively on my neck. “I made one choice in my life that scared me,” he says, “and it felt much bigger than I was at the time.”

I think I know. When he was twenty. When he took on raising his brothers and sister. I lift my chin up to him.

He stares down. “They weren’t little kids—Timo, Luka and Katya. They were at the parts of their lives that would affect them, shape who they were. I felt a responsibility to make sure they turned out okay. Every day was hard. Every day is hard. But the things we love—the people we love—give us reason to keep living. To keep trying.” He wipes the last of my tears with his thumbs, my attention all his. “The things greater than us, Thora, they’re not impossible. It’s just fear talking, telling you that you can’t when you can. I know you can.”

I stare in awe of him, wondering how someone can fill me with so much more than I’ve ever been able to give myself. I was always my number one cheerleader. My number one fan. I think I’ve been replaced. “Where did you come from?” I ask what he asked me once.

He just gives me a small smile, tucking a strand of my hair, less distressed by my hesitance. Maybe he sees what I feel.

I can do this.

It’s not over.

You’ll be good enough. But I press my forehead to his chest, silently drifting into the fragile memory of tonight. My parent’s offer and my father’s ultimatum. If I reject both, I may damage my relationship with them. I’m not even sure if it’ll be beyond repair—since I’ve never hurt them before.

“What is it?” he asks me, studying my complex state of mind.

“Is this worth hurting my parents?”

“They should be happy if you’re happy, Thora.”

It’s not that simple. I wish appearances didn’t matter—but they do. I don’t want to shame them for having a daughter who works in Vegas, in a risqué club. Or for dropping out of college. And likewise, I don’t want to feel ashamed for what I do with my life.

“This sucks.” My voice cracks.

He hugs me closer. Tighter, small in his protective, strong arms. And his lips brush my ear. “Sleep on it,” he breathes. “And I’ll be here when you wake up.”

This is an offer that I can say yes to, without falter.





Act Thirty-Five



“If you stay in Vegas, you have to support yourself,” my mother tells me over the phone. I lie on my stomach, still on Nikolai’s bed. Only six in the morning, still dark outside.

“I have been.” I block out Phantom firing me and the second decision I have to make in a short period of time. This has to be resolved first.