First Position by Prescott Lane Read Free Book Online

injury -- a broken ankle from one bad fall just weeks before graduation -- had ended her professional dance career before it even started.   “When I broke my ankle and couldn’t dance, I thought my life was over.  It gets easier over time.”  
    The waitress brought out their food, as Mason kept his eyes fixed on Emory, listening intently, happy she was opening up.   Maybe she’s not going to go off on me .   It dawned on him how similar their lives were: two driven athletes with career-threatening injuries.  And worse for Emory -- her career never even started.
    Mason picked at his food, moving it around the plate with his fork.  “Don’t you like your food?” she asked. 
    “It’s great.  I was just remembering when you got hurt.  Did you know I tried to visit you?”  Even though Mason was already involved with Alexis, he did try to see Emory in the hospital, hoping that because her career was over, she would follow him to the NFL.   How fucking stupid.  It was just as well she refused to see me .
    “I knew you came.”  Emory smiled.  “I told Wesley to kick your ass!”
    Mason nearly choked on his food, laughing.  Emory told him about Wesley’s studio, her part-time teaching, and their living arrangement. 
    “I bet the kids love you,” Mason said.
    “I love them.”
    Mason decided since Emory twice tried to pry into his personal life, he’d do the same, but didn’t want to be too obvious.  “Do people think it’s weird that you and Wesley live together?”
    “Not really.”
    “I mean, doesn’t everyone assume you’re a couple?”
    “Well, since Wesley has a boyfriend, I should hope not.  That would make me a very loose woman,” Emory said, shooting a warning look to Mason, “which we both know I’m not.”  She refused to be a quick fling during his short time in Charlotte.  “But I just adore Tomás.  He makes Wesley happy.  He’s a fabulous artist, and most important to me, a great cook.  They’ve been together about a year.”
    Mason’s subtle approach fell flat, learning nothing except some details about Wesley’s love life with some strange guy named Tomás -- all of which he never wanted to think about, ever.  He decided to cut to the chase.  “So Wesley has a boyfriend, how about you?” 
    Trying to keep her face from blushing, Emory couldn’t believe he’d have the balls to ask her such a personal question.  She considered lying, not wanting to appear lonely, desperate, or available, but decided to be honest.  She had other secrets to keep.  “No.”
    “Ever married?” he quickly asked.
    Emory pursed her lips.   What the hell?  What business is it of his ?   “No.”  She needed to seize control of the conversation, bothered he now knew her history, but hadn’t come clean about his own.  She had questions to ask but wasn’t sure she was prepared to hear the answers.  “You haven’t talked much about Alexis.  Do you two have kids?”
    Mason took a sip of water, wishing he had one of Clive’s doubles, knowing he couldn’t skirt the issue any longer.  “No kids, and we’re getting a divorce.”
    Emory wasn’t prepared for that answer; it hit her like an atomic bomb exploding in a quiet neighborhood.  She took a drink of water, trying to hide her surprise behind the glass, then stared at her food, gripping her fork tightly, now worried he was looking for more than a tour of Freedom Park and lunch, but also a rebound to ease his broken heart.  “I’m sorry to hear that.  I know divorce was never an option for you.”
    “It’s for the best.  She loved the NFL player, not me.  When the arm went, so did she.” 
    Emory appreciated his honesty, and couldn’t contain her emotions any longer.  “She always was a bitch.” 
    Mason smiled broadly and nodded in agreement.   There’s my sassy, angel-faced gir l .  Mason always loved how strong and tough Emory was. 
    They cleaned their plates, and the waitress returned to