Chapter Two

She’d always suspected that Curtis was a dangerous man, though she had no real idea in what way. Yeah, she’d seen him brutally and viciously beat drunk men to a pulp, but then again, that was his job. Bouncing at Curves meant that Curtis was among the first people to step forward when trouble started – and trouble started there often.

While everyone else ran from the violent assholes with the guns and knives and pool cues, Curtis walked right on up to them, and he always came out on top. He was fast, and strong, and merciless, especially when one of the female staff or customers had been touched or roughed up. He was an expert and fearless fighter, and in eighteen months of working with him at Curves, Tessa had never seen him tender.

Oh, sure, she’d seen him kind, funny, careful. Gentle, even. But tender? Never, not even close – not until that day at Jax and Sarah’s engagement party. And it had scared the hell out of her to see him direct that look her way. It had knocked the breath out of her, just like he’d stolen her breath when he’d held her on that sofa after she’d been punched in the head one night at Curves.

And there it was again: that memory of being held by Curtis Manning. Those large, lethal hands cradling her, stroking her hair. That harsh voice murmuring softly in her ear, calling her ‘baby’ and telling her to stay awake, to stay with him. And when she’d somehow managed to force her heavy-as-hell eyelids open, the look in his icy-blue eyes had stunned her. He’d stared down at her with nothing but heat and want.

Damn him.

Deciding to chalk her current breathlessness up to exercise, she doubled-down on the intensity for the last ten minutes. She stared again at the number ‘109’ and felt nothing but disgust at herself: how had she gained almost ninety pounds in less than a year? How had she let things get so far out of control? How had she lost her way so completely?

When the buzzer on the exercise machine signaled that the three hours were up at long last, Tessa looked at the papers on her wall as she drank some water and toweled off. They were stuck one on top of the other, and each piece had one number on it. The top one was now ‘109’, of course, but there had been a time when that number had been ‘187’. That was where she’d started; that had been almost five months ago.

The numbers went down one pound at a time – ‘108’, ‘107’, ‘106’, and so on – to ’99’. That was her target weight, her goal. That was what she was fighting to get back to. Maybe if she did, her life would make sense again.

Her cell phone rang, and she jumped. Tessa picked it up, sighed when she saw Jenna Jade Irwin’s name on the screen. She’d completely forgotten that she was to meet J.J. for coffee and breakfast that morning, and she bit her lip, thinking.

J.J. was another ex-dancer, though, unlike Tessa, she’d quit voluntarily. After fifteen years of grueling ballet training, and cut-throat competition in the company for roles and recognition, J.J. had just opted out of the rat race, without a single regret, and without a single look back. When Tessa had fallen and wrecked her knee almost three years before – ending her dancing career forever – J.J. had been the first person at her side, offering support, and a glimpse at life beyond the stage and the glare of the spotlights.

It wasn’t a glimpse that Tessa had wanted; not then and not now. She wanted to dance, she wanted that life back. It was a life of harsh discipline, of rigorous routine and measurable reward, sure. But it was the only life that made sense to her: it was the only life that made her feel safe.

Tessa wasn’t totally sure when she’d started actively avoiding Jenna Jade. Maybe when J.J.’s compliments about how good Tessa looked had turned into J.J. giving her major side-eye, and asking pointed questions about her weight loss? Maybe when J.J. had started pressing Tessa to get into teaching dance a few times a week at J.J.’s dance school? Maybe when J.J. had started quietly pushing food over tables at Tessa, with gentle suggestions that she eat something?

Well. She wasn’t in the mood for any of that shit today. She pressed ‘reject’, then switched her phone off. She’d send J.J. a text later, apologizing and putting off a rescheduled meeting for as long as possible. With a bit of luck, the woman would just go away and leave her alone. After all, what the hell did they have in common besides both being ex-ballerinas?

Tessa ran her hand through her thick, curly blonde hair, stared hard at that ’99’. God, it was so far away from where she was right at that moment. She wanted it so badly, she almost tasted it. She shook her head, hit the ‘start’ button on the exercise machine again, and ramped up the intensity even higher.

Another hour.