Breaking the Bro Code. Stefanie London
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everything would be fine.
How was she going to make it work? It was the less scary of the two questions Elise had been asking herself, the other being: how had she let it get to this point in the first place? She knew the answer to that: she was weak. She was too weak to say no to her mother, too weak to tell her brother to come home and face his responsibilities. She was supposed to be the stable one in the family, the reliable one. She was the one who had to keep them all afloat.
Elise crunched the numbers again, tapping at her calculator and hoping for a different result. The only way the numbers would balance was if she let go one of her teachers and took on more lessons herself. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than letting the business fail even more than it already had.
Sitting behind the small desk in the waiting room of the studio, she watched the mothers chatter amongst themselves while the under-twelve class finished up. The girls bounded out of the studio, full of beans despite a gruelling technique class with Jasmine. She couldn’t let Jasmine go; they’d been best friends since they were six and had seen each other through many a dark day. She sighed, raking a hand through her loose hair.
‘See you next Thursday, girls. Don’t forget to stretch!’ Jasmine chirped and waved as her students left.
Elise envied Jasmine and her newfound life with her hunky AFL star fiancé. Their kind of happiness was rare, and her best friend deserved every second of it...but she couldn’t help wishing that she had a little bit of that luck too.
Swinging her sneakered feet onto the desk, she adjusted the portable fan so it blew in her direction. The studio’s air conditioning was broken again, but she was trying to figure out how to afford a service. No solution had presented itself, but there was a number of blisteringly hot days in next week’s forecast that meant she’d have to make a decision, and fast.
‘Have you heard from Col again?’ Jasmine stripped off her leg warmers and ballet shoes, before stuffing her stockinged feet into a pair of flats.
She’d neglected to tell Jasmine they’d gone for a drink last night. She wouldn’t approve and Elise couldn’t deal with a lecture at this point. She’d hardly slept. Between the old memories resurfacing and the stress of trying to decide which teacher to fire, relaxation and slumber were impossible concepts. There had also been a tiny twinge of guilt over bailing on Col when he’d opened up for her, but she soothed that guilt with a healthy dose of anger. He was the one who left her originally, and not just for a night...for five long years.
‘Hey.’ Jasmine’s face appeared in front of hers, a hand landing on her shoulder. ‘I’m worried about you.’
‘I’m fine.’ She forced a perky smile. ‘You know what my apartment is like. It gets so hot in the summer. I could barely catch a wink of sleep last night.’
‘Right. Well, you let me know if you want to talk.’ Jasmine removed her hand and gave her a pointed look that said: I’m your best friend, don’t BS me.
‘As if you could stop me talking.’ She sat up, shaking off her exhaustion, and kept her smile firmly in place.
As Jasmine was about to leave, the door to the studio swung open. Col’s frame filled the doorway almost completely, his broad shoulders looking even wider with the fading light outlining him. He wore an intense expression, none of his usual cockiness present in the deep stare he gave her.
‘Hi, Ellie.’
‘Col.’
Jasmine looked from Elise to Col and back again. She moved closer to the desk, hovering by Elise, looking as if she were about to strike.
‘It’s all right, Mama Bear,’ Elise said with a nod. ‘I can take him.’
She frowned. ‘I’ll stay if you need moral support.’
‘It’s fine, go.’ Elise gave her friend a gentle shove with one sneaker-covered foot.
Jasmine picked up her bag and walked past Col, setting a hard glare at him before she left without a word. Elise stifled a smile, Jasmine was nothing if not fiercely loyal.
‘Not a fan, I see.’ Col came forward, crossing the small room in only a few strides.
‘Makes two of us,’ she said, trying to keep her teasing light though it sounded loaded as a drawn weapon. ‘Maybe I should start a Facebook group.’
He wore a pair of fitted jeans, which were beginning to fray at both knees, a white T-shirt that looked so good it should have been illegal and a pair of black Chucks. His dark hair was unstyled, curling at the edges where normally it would be tamed into place with hair product. A thick, leather cuff on his right wrist offset tanned skin. He’d been outside; she could see the sunshine on him. He was too delicious for words and she hated her body for every traitorous reaction it was having.
‘No need to be hostile.’
‘What do you want, Col?’
‘I want you to reconsider.’
He leant against the desk, his scent making her heady. Faded aftershave mixed with sun-drenched skin, a hint of cinnamon and something else...something entirely male.
‘Have you forgotten our chat last night?’ She forced her eyes away from his chest. ‘I gave you my answer already. Twice now, if memory serves me correctly.’
‘So you’ll let this studio fail to spite me?’ He leant forward, brows crinkled. ‘We can help each other.’
‘I don’t want your help.’
‘That might be true, but you do need my help.’
Without the buttoned shirt, the dress trousers and the expensive shoes he looked...normal. Just like the boy she remembered from the night she lost her heart, the night she came undone so badly she’d never been able to piece herself back together. A night of muffled cries, sweat-drenched skin and a passion so intense she’d never been able to replicate it. In fact the last few attempts had fallen so far short she’d about given up.
He stared down at her, his eyes making her skin flame. ‘You could get rid of one of your teachers,’ he went on. ‘Which one? I know you won’t get rid of Jasmine—she’s too good a friend. What about the redhead, Missy? You’ve known her forever too. Could you really put her out of a job? Or there’s that other girl—’
‘Stop it!’ The cry sprang from her with such fury that Col stopped midsentence.
He closed his mouth, quietly assessing her. Her heart pounded a staccato-like beat, the throbbing in her head matching its pace. She felt as if she were about to explode from the stress, the sleeplessness, the frustration. A confused knot of emotion swelled within her, threatening to burst forth with the slightest provocation.
‘You can’t come back here and manipulate me into helping you,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘You don’t get to do that to me. You were the one who left.’
You were the one who ruined everything.
Col’s eyes clouded over, his mouth pulling into a thin line. He pushed up from the desk and turned so he was facing her dead on. His hands landed on the desk’s surface with a hard thud, his face inches from hers. She could see the rolling storm cloud of emotion in his eyes; the passionate anger, the five-year stockpile of guilt, the desire to fight.
‘I did you a favour in leaving, Elise. I did us both a favour.’
‘Bull.’ She dragged her eyes away, wishing for a moment that he would give up on her.
‘I promise if you help me I’ll make sure your ballet studio never suffers again. I’ll make sure you never suffer again, and I will stay well out of your life.’
* * *
For a moment he wondered if she might hold her ground. He knew she must hate him for leaving—hell,