“Heh, not for much longer.”
Laughing, they ended the call and Faith turned on the “do not disturb” feature on her phone to stop the notifications for the night. She wrapped a quilt around her shoulders and sat up to stare out the window. The little bit of light from the back porch glowed across the yard, highlighting the holes in the ground. Kyle had thoroughly destroyed the backyard. Would he destroy her reputation that thoroughly, too? And if he did, was it going to make things better or worse?
Faith rolled her ankles, stretching out the tendons and muscles. She’d looked forward to graduation and NYU for so long, but had wanted to enjoy senior year. Now, though, she’d give anything for it to be over, and that sucked.
She sat up straighter, glaring at her reflection in the window, strands from her bun falling in wisps around her face. Maybe working with Kyle was a mistake, but no matter what happened, she was going to make Cameron wish he’d never opened his mouth.
Sunlight streamed through her window, and Faith groaned. She’d been having a weird dream about a giant pair of tap shoes chasing her around the studio, but it hadn’t been bad enough to wake her up. What time was it? She dug her phone out from under her pillow. Eight thirty? They didn’t have to leave for church for two hours. Why the heck was she awake?
A motor rumbled to life outside. Groggy, Faith stumbled over her dance bag on the way to the window. Kyle, holding what looked like a chain saw and wearing safety glasses, was attacking the pile of branches in the corner of her backyard. Mesmerized, she watched him wield the saw, his forearms taut and straining.
“Faith?” Mom called from downstairs. “You awake? Dad wants to leave early and grab doughnuts on the way to church.”
Um, yeah. Church—not drooling over boys with chain saws. “Okay!”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Faith raced back to her bed, landing just before Mom opened the door. “Did the noise wake you?”
“It did, but I needed to get up and do my stretches anyway. I’ve got a lot of dancing ahead of me with the musical.”
A little smile twitched at the corner of Mom’s mouth. “Don’t you usually do those on the back porch?”
Their back porch, screened in with a smooth painted hardwood floor, was the closest thing to a studio in the house. Blushing, she looked down at her quilt. “Yes. Do you think I’ll be in his way?”
“Oh, probably not.” Chuckling, Mom turned to go. “But do the poor boy a favor. Wait until he puts away the saw. I don’t want to be responsible for any lost limbs.”
Faith rolled her eyes as soon as her mother closed the door. Was she that obvious? No…she couldn’t be. Still, blushing every time Mom asked about Kyle was probably a dead giveaway that she had a little crush.
And that’s all it will be, right? Sighing, she pulled a clean leotard, tights, and shorts out of dresser. That’s all it had to be. They were in the business of revenge. Nothing else.
Chapter Eleven
Kyle
The morning air was a little brisk today, and the dew was taking its own sweet time burning off the grass. Kyle turned off the saw and took a deep breath, letting the cool air clear his lungs of the dust. So far, no one had come outside to yell at him for running equipment this early, but most of the homeowners had lawn crews, and were probably used to the sweet sounds of mowers at 8:00 a.m.
He wiped his forehead and gathered a load of branches to take to the truck. At this rate, he’d have to run to Mark’s Nursery by lunchtime. They paid for wood to make mulch—either in cash or product, and he’d need a lot of mulch to fix up the Gladwells’ flower beds. Maybe he’d break even with all this stuff.
On his way back, he happened to glance into the screened-in back porch and stopped dead in his tracks.
Faith had one leg up on a rail built into the back wall and was stretching toward it with her arm over her head. She was wearing another one of those leotards, along with pink tights and a pair of ballet shoes. Classical music wafted out into the yard, and she moved with it, graceful and sure. However emotional and uncertain she’d been yesterday, here she was all confidence. Her leg, toes pointed, was flexed, and he marveled at the muscles she’d built up. He hadn’t seen a pair of calves that perfect…well, ever. The rest of her was as long and lean. Her arms moved slow and smooth, like they were cutting through water, and her long neck arched as she turned her body.
Kyle’s breath hitched. He’d never seen anything quite so beautiful. If she looked like this just stretching, what did she look like when she danced?
He had to see that. He had to.
She bent forward, touching her raised leg, then straightened up. And caught him gawking. For a second she stared back—then a slow smirk crossed her face. Uh-huh, payback’s a bitch, he could hear her thinking.
Before he could stop himself, he said, “You’re pretty flexible.”