Hooked 4 (Hooked #4)(15)

CHAPTER EIGHT

I rounded the coffee shop where I’d met Drew for the first time, and I saw the very pimpled man who had sold us our coffees. What a guy; he hadn’t known what he was getting me into, I thought. Just a simple sandwich; a simple coffee. Nothing was simple.

Finally, I flung myself around the last corner, to Le Moyne Street. Gasping, I stood with my hands on my knees, gazing up at it: at my dance studio. My jaw dropped.

That’s right. The dance studio remained standing. It wasn’t crumbled; it was still so beautiful—that aged building from one hundred years before, with its haggard brick, with its gleaming, perfect windows. I walked toward it, finally, after I regained my strength. I brought my hands forward, wanting to touch it, to be a part of its daydream.

But suddenly, he was there. Drew flung open the door, meeting me at the window. He stood looking at me with those large, gleaming blue eyes. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Ta-da!”

I was shaking suddenly. I placed my hands on his extended forearms, not sure if I was going to fall over or not. I took a step forward, my eyes peering up at him. “What—what’s happened to your book store?”

Drew thought this was hilarious. He leaned his head back and started laughing chaotically. I could feel the vibrations of his laughter through my arms, through my veins. I shook him lightly, trying to get a sense for him.

“No, Molly. No. We didn’t destroy it. We wouldn’t destroy it. It’s yours.”

I tilted my head to the right and walked around him, back into the studio. I still felt like I was in a sort of daydream. I spun around in a circle into a poetic pirouette. He shut the door behind him, leaving us in a perfect haze of color, of light, even in the midst of the darkness outside.

“You’re a wonderful dancer,” Drew whispered, leaning against the wall. He watched as I twirled with such exhilaration, such joy.

“I didn’t make it.”

“You made it, Molly,” he murmured. “In my mind. You’re still dancing. You’re still living. This is what making it is. I don’t know what the other rules imply.”

I stopped spinning and turned to him, my eyes like puppy dog eyes: gleaming, sad. I walked toward him and brought my hands forward. “We should dance together,” I whispered playfully. “I know you were trained, after all.”

He tilted his head at me and removed the phone from his pocket, allowing illustrious classical music to emanate through the room. My eyes closed as I listened to it. “I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. This is my happy place.” But then, all at once, I blinked up at him, confused. “Why didn’t you destroy it, really? I know you had big plans for this lot. What’s to become of your bookshop? And doesn’t this still technically belong to you?” I demanded so many things of him. My voice was suddenly harsh. The classical music still buzzed around me, but I needed to know so many things. I had to know.

He took a step back, wiping at his brow. “Honestly. When I saw you that day, I knew how upset you were. I didn’t know this was your place. I really liked you, Molly. And I didn’t want to do anything to hurt you. But my business advisor told me we’d lose big if—if we gave up on this lot. So, to be honest, we were going to destroy it anyway.” He swallowed as I continued to glare at him. “Ultimately, there were a few safety concerns when we began inspecting it for destruction. Turns out this building—“ he tapped the brick walls—“isn’t coming down unless it wants to.”

“And it doesn’t,” I said, looking around me.

“No it’s not.” Drew looked at me with such steaming eyes. He reached into his pocket and found the keys. He dangled them in front of my eyes, allowing the light to catch on them.

I grinned and grasped them in my hands. “And the loan—?”

He waved his hand in front of his face. “It’s stupid. I just—I messed up the timing. I was thinking if I paid that loan, you wouldn’t be out any money. After all, you started leasing that new place that you really can’t afford. I just didn’t want you to be out any money because of me.”


I nodded, understanding. “So. I’ll pay you that money back. Over the course of a few years?”

He shrugged. “Only if you want to. If you want, you can put that money back in this place. It’s quite beautiful. And it’s so uniquely yours, you know?”

I nodded at him. I placed my hands on his chest and reached up to kiss him. Our lips were so soft against each other; I felt like I would melt.

“Now. If you don’t dance with me, I’ll never forgive you,” I whispered in his ear, making him shake. He grabbed my back and lifted me, twirling me in a tight circle. I laughed, bringing my body into its natural, ballerina position in the air. I stretched forth, lifting my arm to the sun.

The song wavered around us, forcing us to dance languidly, beautifully. After the song ended, Drew placed his finger over his mouth and rushed to the phone, changing the station. The beat quickened, forcing him to snap his fingers over and over. He spun toward me, “Ain’t Misbehaving,” playing from his phone speaker. I leaned down, laughing with such passion, such energy. I couldn’t believe this big-time businessman knew Louis Armstrong.

He swept me into his arms and we circled the dance studio, feeling the heat from each other’s bodies as we danced. I could feel the way his body formed into mine; we could sense what the other was going to do next. I bit my lip, laughing for a moment as we went. “My, you’re good!” I called as he spun me out and back in again.