Life After Taylah
Page 10

“You’ve got me. Come on, I’ll show you my bike.”
I don’t protest; instead, I let him take me through the crowd until we reach a fence. There are guards lining it, and the moment he nods at them, they let him through. Finally we’re away from the fans and wild crowds. I sigh. “Wow, they’re a little crazy, aren’t they?”
He laughs. “People get motorcycle mad. It’s hard not to.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I say, falling in step beside him. “I’ve never been on one.”
He stops and turns to me, gaping. “You’ve never been on a bike?”
I flush, shaking my head. “No, I’m too much of a girl.”
“We’re just going to have to change that, aren’t we?”
I shake my head, eyes wide. “No way. I’ll probably break my leg and never be able to dance again.”
He laughs. “Live it up a little, Dancer. Life is too short to be afraid.”
Don’t I know it?
“Doesn’t it ever scare you?” I ask as we round the corner to a group of people.
“No, never.”
“Have you ever fallen off?”
“About a hundred times, give or take.”
“A hundred?” I gasp.
He grins at me. “That’s nothing compared to some.”
“Wow.”
We reach the group of people and a tiny girl comes tearing out, running towards Nate. She’s the sweetest little thing I’ve ever seen in my life. She’s got these long blond locks, big green eyes and a face that would melt any heart.
“Daddy!” she cries.
She must be Nate’s little girl—which means his wife must be here too. I feel a little uncomfortable that I’m here, considering I don’t really know him or any of them.
“Hey princess,” he says, scooping her up and pressing his lips to her cheek.
My heart aches watching them, I can’t really say why. It’s just a feeling of loss and longing.
“I want you to meet my friend,” he says, turning to me. “Dancer.”
I laugh. “It’s Avery.”
He tilts his head to the side, giving me an intense look that has me focusing on his daughter with a flush in my cheeks.
“Avery,” he murmurs, as if testing it on his tongue.
“You must be Macy,” I say to the little girl.
She smiles at me, showing me a row of perfect little teeth. “Mwacy,” she says in the cutest, tiny voice.
Nate laughs. “She can’t say it properly.”
“That’s okay.” I smile. “Mwacy is a very cute name.”
She beams. “Daddy called you a dancer,” she points out.
“That’s because I am.”
“I want to dance,” she cries, throwing her arms up.
“Well, I’ll have to show you then, won’t I?”
She turns to Nate. “Put me down, Daddy, Avie is going to teach me to dance.”
I feel my chest tighten. I know she’s tried to say Avery but ended up with Avie, and it warms my heart to hear her say it like that—but there’s only two people who have ever called me Avie: my mom and my brother. I swallow and push the emotions down as Nate puts her down and she takes my hand.
“Okay,” I manage, my voice tight. “Are you ready?”
“Yes!” she cries, spinning in a circle.
I glance at Nate, and he’s got his eyes narrowed, watching me intently. I don’t dare ask why he’s staring at me like that, because I’m afraid he saw on my face what I try hard not to show anyone. I focus my attention back on Macy.
“Can you spin in a circle?”
She spins around.
“Wow, good girl.”
I spin too.
“You look so pretty spinning.” She giggles.
“So do you. Come here, I’ll hold your hand and you can spin.”
I hold her hand as she spins around, giggling and laughing. She’s a sweet, beautiful little girl. Nate watches us for about twenty minutes before walking over and lifting Macy into his arms. “Time to go, princess. Aunty Mara is here to take you back to Mommy.”
His wife isn’t here? But his daughter is? How strange. As much as I’d love to ask him about it, I don’t. It’s not my business.
“I don’t wanna go,” Macy cries. “I wanna stay with Avie.”
“I know, but Mommy is waiting for you.”
She pouts but doesn’t argue any further. She turns to me and waves her tiny hand. “Bye Avie!”
“Bye sweetie, maybe we can dance again soon.”
Her eyes light up as Nate carries her to a red-haired woman who has just walked in and is shooting daggers at me. I’ve no idea why; I don’t know her. I look away and wait for Nate to come back.
“Sorry about that. She’s got a lot of energy,” he says, stopping beside me.
I smile at him. “She’s beautiful.”
He grins and offers me his hand. “You want to see that bike?”
I nod, taking his hand. “Sure.”
He leads me around the back of the trailers to a row of bikes. He walks me over to the familiar yellow and black one. He slaps the back of it. “This is my lifeline.”
I stare at it. Up close it looks so much bigger and heavier.
“How do you flip this around?” I say, running my fingers over the blue seat.
“You learn. It comes quite easily.”