Thick & Thin (Thin Love, #3)(22)

“No.” That grip on my fingers tightened. “You damn well aren’t.”

“I also didn’t like who they wanted me to be.”

“They?”

The thought of those days in Miami exhausted me. Ethan’s gaze didn’t stop as I moved around the studio, sliding down the mirrored wall as I grabbed the bottle of water from my bag. “The media, the players’ wives and girlfriends. I was expected to socialize with them and they weren’t exactly the kind of people I’d be friendly with on purpose.” They were cruel, catty and reminded me of the judgments that came my way inside my father’s oppressive home. I was never good enough, smart enough, pretty enough.

Shaking away the memory, I took a swig from the bottle and blinked back at Ethan when he sat across from me, his arms linked around his knees.

“Ransom didn’t see what the big deal was, he said he didn’t care if I humored them or not, but I didn’t want to cause any ripples and those women were the ripple type. They aren’t happy with you, their husbands will hear about it, then Ransom would have heard about it.”

He grabbed the bottle of water from me, taking a tentative sip. “And he knew about all this?”

“He told me to steer clear of them. I did, eventually, but I knew it wouldn’t last. I knew, no matter what I did, no matter how much we loved each other, his team, his game came first.” I massaged my neck, remembering how hard Ransom had trained and the pressure he put upon himself. I’d worked hard, hustling to graduate with him, hustling harder for dancing or choreography gigs in Miami just to pass the time when Ransom was on the road or at practice. But Ransom’s hustle was harder, stronger and I knew why. “He had this weird idea in his head about proving himself. He wanted to be better than Kona or at least just as good.”

Ethan moved his head to the side, squinting as though he couldn’t quite process that kind of pressure. “And that got in the way of his relationship with you?”

He was skirting close to lines I didn’t want crossed, digging too deep for four a.m. “Our relationship distracted him from him being better. He never said that, but I felt it. Ransom would never hurt a soul on purpose.” Ethan wanted me to be honest, so I would be. “At his core, he is genuinely good. He…years ago, when he was a kid, his first love, Emily, she was killed in a boating accident. When I met him he was still struggling with the guilt he felt. It changed him. He punished himself so severely…” I wouldn’t elaborate. I cared about Ethan, but Ransom’s demons were his own and when I stopped speaking, Ethan leaned back, as though he’d wait forever for me to continue. I wouldn’t. Not about that. “Let’s just say Ransom more so than anyone I’ve ever known, would never hurt anyone on purpose. He’s just too much of a nice guy for that. Somewhere along the way, things got overlooked; I got overlooked. I had no outlets there that were mine. Everything was about him and his team. I’d choreograph camps, volunteer at the Y, but it wasn’t like being here, being in the dance community here, in a studio that felt like home. I had nothing for myself in Miami. It just ended up being me that got forgotten. It wasn’t on purpose.”

“But you let it lie.”

“I guess I did, but it wasn’t just being second that made me leave. It was the injuries, there were so many. It got to the point that I just couldn’t watch him play anymore. He’d get hurt, with concussions especially, and he was less like himself than he was before. I gave him an ultimatum: retire early or I leave. He didn’t think I was serious.”

“But you were.”

“Very. Still, I wasn’t out of his life completely. Not with…well, he and his family had given me so much. I…” I couldn’t quite look at him then. “I loved them. All of them. I still do.”

“They’re your family.”

He was right. There was no accusation in his tone; he’d spoken that sentence with sincerity and kindness. They were my family and I did love them. No one would ever change that and I was happy that Ethan realized that too. “They’re the only family I’ve ever known. So you see how all of this…”

He nodded, sliding closer to me as though he just wanted to be next to me, like just sharing the same space was all he needed. I didn’t understand why he needed that from me, until I realized that he, too, knew what it was like to have a family that had been broken. Ethan leaned forward, elbows back on his knees but his back was straight, his expression sweet. “And you saying yes to me muddles things up.”

“Things were muddled before.” He didn’t try to comfort me when I rested my head against the mirror or when I pressed on my temples trying to ease the headache that had started. “Ransom never quite let me go. He has this idea that eventually we’ll come back together.”

“Is he right?”

I opened my eyes, catching the shift in Ethan’s expression, trying to read that impasse set of his mouth and couldn’t decipher what it meant exactly. But I didn’t elaborate, didn’t do much more than stare at the long divots in the worn wood floor. So many grooves made by the feet of little girls, learning, dreaming, dancing. “No,” I finally said, knowing that Ethan heard the doubt in my voice. “What Ransom wants, what his family wants, I can’t…well. Some things aren’t going to happen. No matter how much you want it.”