“Why do you have to miss it?” he asked.

“Because I’m dancing every day.”

“Well, tell Reese you need a day for therapy. The office isn’t opened on the weekends, and you can’t miss school. You’ve missed enough with all the moving,” Phillip stressed.

“I can’t do that, Phillip. I have to go. I can’t be late. I can’t miss unless, I’m like, dying or something. This is important to me.”

Phillip took in a deep breath and could feel Erik’s eyes on him.

“I understand that, Claire, but you need therapy.”

“No, I don’t! I hate that place! Why do you make me do something that I am telling you I don’t need? I didn’t need my mom and I didn’t need crazy cat lady, all I need is dance. I need to lose myself in the music. I don’t need to talk about my feelings… I’m fine!” she screeched.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Phillip said, “Listen, let’s talk about this when I get in town. Maybe we can work something out so that you can do both.”

“I don’t want to go!”

“I understand that, but until I think you don’t need it—”

“Ahh! I don’t need it, and you can’t make me go!” she yelled, before hanging up on him.

Rolling his eyes, he slammed his phone down. Taking in a deep breath, he clenched his fist before he released it. She drove him f**king mad, but he knew there was no point in calling her back. He didn’t want to be yelled at anyway. Downing his beer, he wiped his hand across his mouth before looking around the bar. Beautiful women filled the pub. Maybe he could find another woman, and she could please him.

Who was he kidding? He wanted Reese and, until he got his hands on her, he wouldn’t be happy. However, the phone call from his niece reminded him that Reese needed to be off limits.

“Problems with the hellion?”

Phillip nodded, looking over at Erik.

“Yup.”

“If she doesn’t want to go, why make her?”

Phillip’s eyebrows drew in as he said, “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m on the right side. Harper said she is doing great,” he said, taking another beer from the bartender and promptly ignoring a woman that was giving a great view down her shirt, but not even Phillip was impressed.

“She is doing great there and apparently at dance, but things are strained between us,” Phillip said sadly. “I know she blames me for everything that happened. I don’t even know what all happened, but I’m pretty sure it’s bad.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Phillip,” Erik said, turning to him, “It was your sister’s. The thing is... therapy isn’t going to make her forgive you. All it’s doing is making her angrier with you. She wants to dance, let her dance. Hopefully, it will help. People let out their anger and sadness in different ways. Maybe dance is her outlet.”

Phillip thought it over for a moment. Maybe Erik was right. Maybe he should back off a little, let Claire dance it out as she kept saying. Maybe he was pushing her away more by insisting on the therapy. It just scared him, so bad. He wanted so much for Claire, but most of all he wanted her to know that he loved her. No matter what.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I am,” Erik declared with a grin, “I also think that things between you and Reese aren’t done with by a mile, and that it is more than just sex.”

Letting his face fall into his hands, Phillip let out a long breath as he thought that Erik was right on both accounts, which meant one thing:

He was screwed.

Chapter 9

“PHILLIP…”

PHILLIP rolled his eyes as he slipped out of bed, reaching for his pants. Claire had been yelling at him for the past thirty minutes to get up. No matter how much he tried to ignore her, he couldn’t anymore. He was tired and, after getting in early that morning, he was looking forward to a day in bed. Claire had other things in mind. She was persistent on the fact that she needed to get to dance and didn’t care that he needed those extra thirty minutes of sleep.

“I’m coming, relax,” he called back as he threw on a long-sleeved Henley before putting on socks and shoes. Reaching for the door, he found her with her arms across her chest, with a very furious look on her face. Looking down at her, he waited for her to say something, but she just glared. Letting out a breath, he asked, “I thought we had to go.”

“We do!” she snapped.

“Then go,” he snapped back.

His shortness must have surprised her. Her eyes went wide, before she turned and stomped down the hall. Following behind her, he grabbed his keys as he thought that waiting to get her a car was a bad idea. He could be sleeping right now. Instead, he was out in the cold, driving Claire to dance. He hated when he let his temper flair. He didn’t mean to snap at her and felt bad but, at the same time, she always snapped at him. Jumping into the car with her, they drove in silence to the studio. Pulling into the parking lot, he parked before Claire reached for the handle to get out.

Stopping her, he said, “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

She looked over at him and shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever.”

“No,” he said before she could get out. “If you want to only dance and not go to therapy then you need to learn how to talk to me. Everyone else gets this nice Claire, while I get the angry one. I’m not the bad guy, Claire. Stop treating me like one.”