Page 44 of Pushing Styxx
“I want you to have everything your heart desires, Hope. I don’t want you waiting to be able to have the world. You should have it now. So that’s what’s happening.” He jerks his chin to the building in front of us. “Welcome to your dance studio. It’s ready to roll when you are. And you already have a team ready and waiting to work with you.”
“I do?” I don’t know what to say.
“Yeah, your girls from the club, they’re joining you.”
“What about Keeper’s Temptation?” I blurt out. I don’t want Harvester mad at me.
“They’re going to stay on until the new girls are trained to their standards, but they’ll be here with you.”
“I love you,” I blurt.
Styxx’s face breaks into a wide grin. “I love you too,mo chathú.” He leans across the console and captures my lips with his. The kiss is soft, gentle, and full of promise.
When he pulls away, I’m breathless. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“Believe it. Let’s go check it out.”
I practically leap from the truck, my heart hammering in my chest. Harvester nods at us as we approach, his usual stoic expression softened slightly at the edges.
“About time you got out of the truck,” he says, flicking his cigarette to the ground and crushing it beneath his boot. “Thought I was gonna have to watch y’all go at it right in public.”
I feel my face going pink at his words. Only one time did we do something similar, and that was in Styxx’s truck two days ago, but no one had been around. Or I didn’t think anyone was outside.
“Shut up, Harvester,” Styxx says with a shit-eating grin in place, his hand finding the small of my back.
Harvester reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys, handing them to me. “Your studio, your keys.”
My fingers tremble as I take them.
“You’re not mad at me?” The question is out before I can call it back.
“Darlin’, you were meant to teach students. Can’t be mad at you for that.” Harvester shrugs.
I try not to let the tears well up, but they come anyway, blurring my vision. “Thank you, Harvester. That means a lot coming from you.”
“Don’t go gettin’ all emotional on me now.” He clears his throat and looks away, uncomfortable with my display of feelings. “Go on and check it out.”
Styxx’s hand stays firm on my back as he guides me toward the entrance. The building is larger than I expected, with large windows facing the street. A simple sign above the door reads “Hope’s Dance Studio” in elegant script.
“You already named it?” I ask, my voice catching.
“Had to call it something,” Styxx says with a shrug, but I can hear the pride in his voice.
My hands shake as I insert the key into the lock. When the door swings open, I gasp.
The space is incredible.
The floors were a polished hardwood, slick enough for a dancer to twirl around without worry.Mirrors line one wall from floor to ceiling, and ballet barres run along another. In the corner sits a small office with a desk and computer already set up. The lighting is perfect. Not too harsh, not too dim.
“It’s . . .” I’m at a loss for words. My dream sits before me, fully realized. “Styxx, this is perfect.”
“Look around,mo chathú. This is all yours.”
I take hesitant steps into the space, my footfalls echoing in the empty studio. The sound system is state-of-the-art, with mounted speakers positioned strategically around the room. There’s even a small waiting area with comfortable chairs for parents or early arrivals.
“How did you do all this so quickly?” I spin around, taking it all in.
Styxx leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with those intense eyes that see everything. “I have my ways. I wanted you to have it and didn’t bullshit around.”
