Speed of My Heart (2 page)

Blasting the radio in my car, the drive to the studio flew by, and before I knew it I was within the confines of a mirrored room, losing myself in an intricate solo to Valse, by Tchaikovsky. It had an upbeat tempo as far as ballet songs went, and I performed the complicated choreography easily. Ballet was my release, my therapy, and my drug; it could cure all the evils of the day.

Surprised when I realized that several hours had passed so quickly, I picked up my bag and waved goodbye to one of my former dance mates, Miranda, who was helping in a class full of school-aged dancers. Miranda and I had taken the same dance classes for as long as I could remember. When we were younger, she use to be obsessed with being a prima ballerina and pursuing a career in ballet. But she started to struggle with her weight after we hit puberty, and had been fighting that battle ever since. Unfortunately, in the ballet world, weight was a bigger issue than it should have been, and she had pretty much given up on that dream. Now she appeared content with teaching dance classes and going to the local cosmetology school. Miranda was known for her super cheerful demeanor, but sometimes I wondered if not being able to dance professionally bothered her more than she let on. She was always smiling and upbeat, but I had noticed that her smile didn't quite reach her eyes anymore. Even her laugh seemed brittle. I had tried to broach the subject with her in the past, but she always blew off my concerns, teasing me to worry about my own dance career. It didn't surprise me. Even though Miranda was friendly with everyone, she had always been very reserved when it came to sharing anything about herself. I had known her since we were toddlers, but I really didn't
know
her.

It was still light outside as I climbed into my car and placed a call to my grandparents to let them know I'd be making a quick stop at a nearby coffee shop before heading home. Even though I was almost nineteen, I knew that as long as I lived in my grandparent’s home, I'd need to keep them informed. At their age, it didn't take much to make them worry, and the last thing I wanted to be was a burden to them. I drove the short mile to my favorite cafe and went in.

*  *  *

The minute I walked through the old-fashioned wooden doors that led into the aromatic shop, I felt the intense sensation of being watched. I wasn't one to look around and acknowledge open stares, because in my experience it just led to awkwardness. So, I kept my gaze focused on the order menu as I stood in line. After a few minutes of the tingling sensation, I couldn't help myself; my curiosity got the best of me and against my better judgment, I took what I hoped was an inconspicuous glance around the room.

Big mistake.

The minute my eyes landed on deep chocolate brown ones, framed by the most gorgeous male face I'd ever had the experience of seeing in person —I was a goner.

The guy watched me in amusement as I felt a slow blush work its way up my neck and set up shop in my cheeks. If my guess was correct, my cheeks had turned a deep scarlet color.

The guy had no shame apparently; openly checking me out the way he was. He had a coffee mug in one hand and a laptop open in front of him, but he was leaning back in his seat, completely disregarding them, his eyes pinned on me. After a few seconds, he seemed to give himself a mental shake, as if just realizing he’d been staring.

I tore my eyes from his and whipped back around in time to recite my order to the clerk. Even with my back to Mr. Intense Gaze, I could still feel his eyes on me. Unfortunately, even with my back to him, my face continued its slow, embarrassing burn.

I'd bet money that the guy wasn't from within a hundred miles of Jamestown. Trust me, I would remember
him
. Even though his clothes were casual, he seemed out of place, like he should be strolling some movie set or signing autographs. He radiated a charisma and magnetism that you didn't see everyday. Not around here, at least.

Trying not to sneak peaks at him as I passed by, I took my latte to a table on the other side of the room, settling into a seat near a huge bay window. Sure that I would be caught staring back at him if I didn't find something to occupy my eyes, I pulled out my Ipad and went to work pretending to read an e-book. I knew it would be almost impossible to tune out the fact that there was a once-in-a-lifetime-hot guy sitting just a few feet away from me, but maybe I could at least manage not to drool. I was just reading the same sentence for the third time when I felt someone standing next to me. Deep in my little I'm-absorbed-in-my-book act, the presence of another person caught me off guard and I jerked my head up in surprise. I was instantly relieved that it wasn't my ex, Marcus. It was crazy that every time someone snuck up on me, I still worried I'd turn around to see Marcus' steely, possessive eyes looking down at me.

 I immediately let out a sigh of relief, the tenseness melting from my body when I realized I was looking into warm chocolate brown eyes instead.

Standing beside me was the hot guy that had been making no secret of checking me out, and the same one I‘d been trying desperately to ignore.

Concern flickered in his expression. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." His voice was just as sexy as he was.

I smiled sweetly, dismissing the concern. "No problem, I'm just jumpy sometimes."

I took a second to do a quick once over on him, since he obviously had done several on me. He was tall and slender, but muscular, and he emulated a steely confidence. His teeth were even and white, and his chiseled face immediately brought a Ralph Lauren model to mind; though he wasn't quite that clean cut. Maybe it was the wavy mess of dark hair, or the fact that he looked like he hadn't shaved in a day or so, that kept him from looking like he'd just stepped off the pages of a catalog. As my eyes did a quick survey of his body, I realized that on his right arm, peeking from beneath his long sleeved t-shirt and wrapping between his thumb and fingers, was a dark blue cast.

Immediately, I felt my face softening. Injured guys were kind of like kittens and the elderly to me; I just couldn't resist the vulnerability.

When he saw me looking at his cast, he shrugged and then momentarily blinded me with his mega-watt smile. He held his casted arm up.

"Car accident," he said in way of explanation.

I nodded, giving him a sympathetic look. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm glad that you weren't injured worse. Were you driving?" I asked, curious.

He grinned. "Uh, no," he said, as if I were missing some sort of inside joke. "Not this time."

I raised an eyebrow. "So, you get in a lot of car accidents?" I was pretty sure I was missing something here.

His grin spread into a full out smile. "You could say that." He motioned to the seat across from me. "You mind having a little company?"

I paused, slightly weary. I didn't know anything about this guy, except that I'd never seen him before. And I'd been coming to this coffee shop weekly for years. But something about him, besides his shockingly good looks, intrigued me. He brought to mind the old saying that a person's eyes were the window to their soul. His eyes held all kinds of depth that made me want to know more about him —starting with his name.

As if he’d read my mind, he introduced himself, "I'm Cole, by the way."

I smiled back at him. "I'm Mara. I've never seen you here before. Are you from Jamestown?" I asked, even though I didn't think he was. His accent was a little more southern than what I was use to hearing.

He shook his head. "No, I'm from North Carolina. I'm visiting family for a little while. How bout you?”

I nodded. "Yep, Kentucky born and raised. I'm actually from Russell Springs, which is about a half hour away. I just make the drive to dance at a studio a few blocks from here, so I stop by a lot for coffee." I surveyed the cozy interior of the cafe with regret. "I'll kind of miss this place when I leave for college in a couple of months."

"Oh yeah? What college are you going to?" he asked.

I grinned at the irony. "Would you believe ECU, in
North Carolina
?"

His raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. For performing arts?"

"The dancing thing gave me away, didn't it?" I said, gesturing to the dance gear I was still wearing from my workout. Inwardly, I cringed at the thought of the messy bun still piled on top of my head. Why couldn't I have met this guy when I wasn't such a mess?

His eyes raked over me, and I felt a delicious flipping sensation in my stomach. I could feel a blush warming my cheeks again.

"Yeah, it's pretty obvious you dance a lot. I think the killer dancer's body would've given you away even if you hadn't mentioned it."

This made me want to smile ridiculously big, but instead, I shrugged off his complement, and kept my smile more in the normal range. "Thanks. So what do you do, besides visit your family in Kentucky?"

His face clouded over with a strange mix of longing and frustration, but it passed so quickly that I wondered if I had imagined it. His eyes were clear and playful when they met mine again. "I work in the auto industry."

I was a little surprised. I had expected him to say something else. I'm not sure what, just something that fit him better. I wondered if he was a car salesman or mechanic. Somehow, neither of those sounded right. He had the kind of underlying edge that said he'd do something more exciting or dangerous, maybe. He didn't look older than twenty-three or twenty-four, so perhaps he was still in school? I got the feeling he didn't want to talk about it and decided not to press, even though my curiosity was definitely up.

"So, you said you're visiting family? I've lived around here my whole life,” I told him. “I probably know them."

He took a sip of his coffee, before answering. "Well, I'm staying alone in a family-owned cabin right outside of Russell Springs; just to get away from the craziness of my job while I'm healing. My family are the Davenports that live in Russell Springs. I'm sure you know them."

My mouth dropped open. I definitely knew the Davenports. "You're kidding me?! Jack is a really good friend of mine. He dates my best friend, actually. And Mr. and Mrs. Davenport have run the car dealership in town for as long as I can remember. They're practically like family to me."

Okay, so that explained things. I guess him being in the auto industry wouldn't be so odd if it was a family business. Still, it didn't seem like something he'd do. But, then again, I didn't really know him.

"Yeah, Jack's my cousin," he confirmed. "It's been several years since I've been here to visit, but he comes down to see me a couple times a year."

"Oh, do you work at a dealership too?" I asked, wondering if they shared that in common.

Cole laughed. "Uh, no."

At my quizzical look he paused, eyeing me a minute before saying, "I race cars."

I just stared at him. Race cars? Could he make a living off of that? It was probably exciting and dangerous, and I could definitely see him being a thrill seeker. But, I knew absolutely nothing about racing, except that the idea of watching a car go around and around bored me to death.

"That is... an interesting career choice," I said, trying to hide my less than enthusiastic response.

Cole chuckled,  shaking his head in amazement. His eyes were bright with laughter when they snagged mine.

"You know what? I think I like you. It's been forever since someone didn't give a crap about what I did for a living."

I looked at him skeptically. "Yeah, I don't think racing would be something I'd be interested in. I hope it doesn't offend you, but I never have understood the appeal of watching cars repeatedly drive the same loop over and over."

Cole shook his head at me, smiling. "I'm pretty sure I could change that opinion, but right now I'm just going to enjoy the fact you're unimpressed."

"People get really excited when you tell them you race cars?" I asked, doubtfully.

He nodded and then shrugged. "Well, most of the time I don't have to tell them. They recognize me."