Dancing for the Lord The Academy - By Emily Goodman Page 0,61

his ice pack. It gave him a few minutes alone—and prevented her from seeing just how much he was cringing as he shifted into position on the pillows.

This was comfortable. He had done this a hundred times, and once he had his shoulder supported, the pain started to ease.

Please, Lord, let the pain start to ease. I can’t afford to hurt this much today—not today. Not the day of the performance. Please….

It would have been more reassuring if it wasn’t his own stupid fault. He’d been stubborn, forcing himself through the motions of the dance even though he had known full well that he wasn’t up to it. He knew better. If he had just walked out, Allie might have had some nasty things to say, but she wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

He’d ignored his body’s warnings. He had ignored weeks of experience with this particular injury, not to mention the certain knowledge that if he pushed himself too far, he was going to end up in too much pain to perform that night.

I was stupid, Lord, and now I’m paying for it. I know I deserve it. Just…let me be able to dance. That was the only thing he could pray. He knew the pain wasn’t going to abate enough by the time he was due to report. It was just a matter of whether or not he was going to be able to perform.

He had to be able to perform.

Danni came in with the ice pack, carefully settling it around his shoulder for him so that he wouldn’t have to move. She was very gentle as she eased down on the bed beside him, slipping her fingers into his. “How’re you feeling?” she asked quietly.

As if she didn’t already know. His face usually gave it away long before she asked the question. “I’ll make it,” he told her determinedly—which, now that he thought about it, was probably what she was really asking. “I’m not going to let this stop me from dancing tonight.”

Danni didn’t correct him—didn’t point out that that hadn’t been what she was asking. She knew that the important part was that he was able to dance, just as much as he did. They were professionals—or at least well on their way to getting there. That meant that when the time came to dance, they danced. “Anything I can do to help?” she asked cautiously.

Nick closed his eyes. “Stay with me?” He hated to make the request. There were probably a hundred different things Danni would rather be doing that particular afternoon—but he didn’t want to be alone.

More than didn’t want to be alone. He wanted Danni with him.

“Of course.” She squeezed his hand, slid a little bit closer to him so that her body was pressed along the line of his again. “Just try to relax. You’ll be all right.”

“Come here.” He slid his arm around her, coaxing her to lean down with her head on his good shoulder. “Do you have any idea how much you help just by being here?”

“As much as it’s helped me to have you with me?” she wanted to know.

“Something like that.” He rested his cheek on top of her hair and sighed, some of the tension finally flowing out of him. “Thanks, Danni.”

“What are partners for?” she reminded him.

He smiled. They sat in silence for several minutes, and then he asked, “Your parents coming in tonight?”

“No.” That had been the greatest disappointment of all. Her father had to work the next day, and if they came up for her performance, they wouldn’t get back in time for him to sleep at all. All of them had offered their regrets, but there was, they’d insisted, nothing they could do about it.

“That’s lousy.” Nick cuddled her a little bit closer. “I was hoping to meet them.”

“I’d like to introduce you, too,” she agreed.

He hesitated; but if he didn’t talk about something, he was going to go crazy, testing his shoulder every five seconds to see if he’d managed to get rid of some of the pain yet. “And Michael?”

Danni smiled sadly. “Dancing in The Nutcracker at home—and probably missing me rather furiously right about now.”

He checked the clock on the bedside table—a rather odd time for a performance. “Why now?” he wanted to know.

“Because I’m the one who always made sure we had everything we needed,” she replied immediately. “And he’s probably going crazy trying to decide how many of the things I threw in that bag were