“Where’ve you been, Calia?”

The question itself was preposterous for a twenty-six year old woman to have to answer without protest, but I understood the concept of respect. I’d stormed out of the gym without thought or explanation early that day—something that was highly unlike me—and disappeared without a reachable trace for nearly the rest of the day. He had a right to ask as a concerned loved one whether I thought he was in the position to be fatherly or not.

I tried for vague, knowing I absolutely couldn’t go with the truth. “I just needed to clear my head.”

His eyes narrowed. “What’s going on with Nik?”

My chest seized and I nearly ingested my tongue. A couple of forced, rough swallows made it possible to speak again.

“We fought,” I admitted, largely leaving out the details and hoping he’d take it at face value.

He shook his head in exasperation. “What else is new?”

“I apologized.”

Understatement.

“Well, that’s definitely different.”

I fought the instinct to roll my eyes. Now was not the time to egg my father on and instigate more questions than necessary. Now was the time to contain the blast and get out with minimal damage.

“I drove him home since he’s only got the motorcycle and the rain was so bad.” I gestured gallantly outside for added effect. Cleared my throat. “I think one of his friends was going to run him back later to get his motorcycle or something. Then I just drove around for a while to visualize my routines and get back in the right mindset.”

Unbelievably, he nodded with approval, and I sighed a huge breath of relief. I hadn’t been too bad at lying for not having tried my hand at it much in the past. I wasn’t sure that was a good thing, but tonight, I was thankful. I’d sell my soul to just about any devil to keep my night with Nik, and this was a small price to pay comparatively.

Tonight had been happiness, fulfillment, and fantasy.

Tonight had been—

Harmony.

I could hear it, I could feel it, we were it today. As poorly as yesterday had gone in the gym, today had gone equally, but well. The intensity and passion were largely the same, but the vibe behind them was shockingly positive.

I’d half expected her to retreat into her shell after last night, but instead she shone from the inside out.

It was one of the best things I’d ever seen.

Her toes pointed with extra flex and her arms extended even taller over the top of her head. Her eyes were shiny with amusement, and the curve of her lips made her that much more enjoyable to watch.

Having just finished the second tumbling pass in her floor routine—a tumbling pass in which she very much pushed all the way through her toes and into the floor like an explosion—she gave me a sly look of mischief and mystery that had my heart beating faster.

She was flirting with me as she worked, using each movement to remind me of an intimate encounter that had been beyond all of my wildest dreams. She’d been sensational last night, preening and succumbing to all of my ministrations without inhibition. Her body moved with just as much fluidity now, dancing from one skill to the next with precision and beauty that vibrated out from her body and encompassed the large room.

I could feel the eyes of everyone else, pulled in to her routine by her talent alone. I watched for that and more.

Careful to keep my leering to a fairly discreet minimum, I harnessed my focus and straightened my coaching hat. There was a time to watch her body, her reactions to my touch, and the way her breath left her mouth in her most pleasure filled moments.

This wasn’t it.

The music reached a crescendo and struck the last note just as she struck her final pose—one hand to her chest and the other to the ceiling, her head thrown back in a flourish of brilliance. She held it briefly before coming directly to me with a smile on her face.

“Well?” she prompted on gloat, knowing she’d been on point, that her execution had been what I’d been demanding of her the whole time.

After weeks of criticism she wanted to feel my praise rain down over her to the point that she could roll around in it like a pig in mud.

“You were peacocking,” I accused, catching her off guard.

“Peacocking?” she questioned, pulling the band of her ponytail looser, adjusting the fit with a shake, and then pulling it tight again.

“Yep,” I confirmed with a wag of my brows and a chuckle. “Showing off your feathers in an illustrious display of dominance and seduction. Reeling me in with your beauty with each turn and presentation.”

She thought about it for two beats before laughing. “Well, damn. That sounds like exactly what I was doing.” She shrugged and stretched the line of her face with acceptance. “Did it work?”

I shook my head in false denial and gave her my most meaningful eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

She wiped a hand down each arm and followed it up with a shove to my shoulder. “Well, feel free to stroke my feathers and call me Peacock, baby.”

A loud bark of laughter burst from my mouth unexpectedly and pulled the attention of several surrounding girls. I saw it as the perfect opportunity to move Callie’s social issues in the right direction.

I didn’t want to change her. But she wanted the change herself. It was in the way she talked about her place in the gym, the loneliness she felt in her isolation.

Callie was a warm, kind-hearted, often funny woman all on her own. I just had to give her the opportunity to realize I wasn’t the only one who saw it.

“Hey, girls!” I greeted with a lift of my hand.

“Hey, Coach Nik!” they yelled back enthusiastically.

Callie’s mouth moved in a silent mock. “Coach Nik?”

“Yep, that’s right,” I confirmed before instructing, “Say hi.”

“Say hi?”

“To the girls. Come on, do it before it’s weird,” I urged in a whisper.

Confused, she turned back toward the girls stiffly but followed direction. “Hi, girls,” she greeted with a wave.

All of them immediately fluttered and tittered with excitement.

“She said hi!”

“Oh my God!”

“Calia Nickleson knows who we are!”

All at once and on top of one another they giggled and spewed their excitement through harsh whispers.

Finally, they got it together, reciting, “Hi, Calia!” in enthusiastic unison.

Callie turned back to me with wide-eyed shock.

I couldn’t help but gloat a little. “Enlightening, huh?”

She agreed, but admitting that to me just wasn’t her style. “Proud of yourself, are you?”

“You bet your sweet ass,” I agreed with a wink and a smile.

She rolled her eyes as I plotted my next strategic move in our game of verbal chess.

“You have to admit that I’m good. I mean, come on. Before I got here, those girls hated you, right? Resented you for your successes and everything that meant about you?”

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“You told me that yourself.” I pointed at her and then brought the palm of my hand flat against my chest. “So, yeah, I’m proud of myself for turning it around.”

“You are not responsible for turning it around,” she argued just because she could. Her ponytail whipped in denial. “What did you do? Hang out in the locker room and talk me up?”

“No.” I chewed softly at the bottom half of my lips to keep my grin from growing out of control.

“Exactly.”

“Exactly what?”

Exasperated, she snapped, “You didn’t fix it!”

“Right you are,” I agreed, momentarily throwing her off and making her chest heave back slightly. “Because there was never anything to fix but your crusty exterior. You said hi and those girls practically threw up all over themselves to say it back.”