Just like that, the holidays were over.

The warmth of Christmas lights, cozy nights tangled up in Bryan's arms, the lazy mornings where we had nowhere to be—all of it had come to an end too fast.

With school starting again, my schedule was about to get chaotic all over again—classes, ballet rehearsals, tutoring sessions, and babysitting Lily. But for once, I actually had a few free hours, and I already knew exactly how I wanted to spend them.

Which was why I had dragged Bryan to the animal shelter with me.

He wasn't thrilled about it.

"Lee," Bryan groaned as I practically hauled him through the shelter doors, my fingers wrapped around his wrist so he couldn't escape. "You're lucky I'm obsessed with you, because I could be sleeping right now."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring his dramatics. "Oh, please. It's the middle of the afternoon."

"Exactly," he muttered, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. "Prime napping hours."

I huffed, spinning to face him, walking backward as I led him through the shelter hallway. "I let you sleep in this morning. You have no excuse."

Bryan smirked lazily, his gaze flicking down my body before meeting my eyes again. "Yeah, and I woke up sore, so whose fault is that?"

I choked on air. "Bryan!"

He snickered, looking way too satisfied with himself.

"Not my fault you can't keep up" he teased, reaching out to tug me closer by the waistband of my leggings.

I swatted at his arm, my face heating. "Shut up. We're literally at a pet shelter."

"Yeah?" he said, smirking. "And?"

"And," I hissed, stepping out of his reach, "you're being inappropriate in front of the animals."

Bryan barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous."

"You're annoying."

"And you love it," he said easily.

I ignored him, grabbing his hand again and tugging him toward the back where the cat room was.

The moment we stepped inside the cat room, a wave of soft meows greeted us.

The small space was filled with little climbing structures, cozy nooks, and play areas where the cats lounged or curiously peeked at us.

I beamed immediately. "Hi, babies," I cooed, crouching down as a small orange tabby padded up to me, rubbing against my leg.

Bryan, however, stood frozen at the doorway, his expression unreadable.

I squinted at him. "Why do you look like you just walked into a crime scene?"

Bryan crossed his arms. "They're all staring at me."

I snorted. "They're literally just existing."

"Yeah, existing while plotting something." He eyed a particularly chubby gray cat perched on a cat tree. "That one hasn't blinked since I walked in."

I sighed, standing up and grabbing his arm. "Oh my God, you're being ridiculous. Just sit down and pet one."

Bryan grumbled something under his breath, but he let me pull him toward one of the couches.

I plopped down first, and within seconds, a small black cat with big green eyes jumped into my lap, curling up instantly.

I gasped. "Oh my God, Bryan. Look at him."

Bryan raised an eyebrow, looking mildly unimpressed. "It's a cat, Amber."

"It's a perfect little angel," I corrected, stroking the kitten's soft fur.

Bryan watched for a moment before shaking his head. "You're such a softie."

"And you're heartless," I shot back.

Bryan rolled his eyes but finally sat beside me. I expected him to just sit there with his arms crossed like a grump, but to my surprise, one of the bigger cats—a sleek, black-and-white one—walked right up to him.

It sniffed his knee, then jumped into his lap like it had known him its whole life.

Bryan froze.

I gasped dramatically. "Oh my God. It chose you."

Bryan blinked, staring at the cat now comfortably lounging on him. "Uh—what do I do?"

I grinned. "Pet him, obviously."

Bryan hesitated, then awkwardly ran his fingers through the cat's fur.

The cat purred instantly, nuzzling into his touch.

Bryan stared at it like it had just spoken full sentences. "It's vibrating."

I laughed, burying my face into my hands. "It's purring, you idiot."

Bryan huffed, but his fingers didn't stop moving, stroking the cat's back in slow, careful motions.

I watched him, my chest warming.

Bryan, who acted like the toughest guy in the world, was now sitting here with a cat purring happily on his lap, looking mildly confused but completely relaxed.

"You're a cat person," I declared.

Bryan scowled. "I am not."

"Yes, you are." I nodded toward the black-and-white cat. "He says otherwise."

Bryan glanced down at the cat, his expression unreadable. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he scratched under its chin.

The cat stretched and purred even louder.

I grinned.

Bryan caught my expression and groaned. "Don't say it."

"You love him."

Bryan scowled. "I don't love him."

"You do."

"I don't."

The cat meowed, nuzzling against his hand again.

Bryan sighed. "...Maybe a little."

I beamed. "I'm so proud of you."

"Shut up, Lee."

I giggled, leaning against him, watching as he continued petting the cat despite all his earlier protests.

This was exactly why I dragged him here.

Because no matter how much Bryan acted like he was too cool for things like this, I knew better.

I knew he had a soft heart underneath all that attitude.

—------------------

It had been a long week, filled with classes, ballet classes, babysitting, and the usual chaos that came with being back at school. But today, Bryan had baseball practice, and I wanted to be there.

I wasn't really sure why I wanted to go.

Maybe it was because Bryan had come to my ballet rehearsals before, watching me move across the studio with his usual smug-but-supportive attitude. Or maybe it was because I liked seeing him in his element, surrounded by his team, his confidence on full display.

Or maybe it was just because I missed him.

I told myself it was just curiosity as I made my way to the field, but the second I saw him—his back turned, shirt damp with sweat, his muscles flexing as he threw a ball across the field—I realized I was a liar.

Because it wasn't just curiosity.

It was him.

Everything about Bryan Munzo on a baseball field was unfair.

I leaned against the fence, watching as he moved with effortless control, throwing, catching, running—completely in his element.

A few of the guys noticed me first.

"Hey, Bryan!" Ethan called, grinning as he nudged Kevin. "Looks like you've got an audience."

Bryan turned toward them, confused at first. Then, when his eyes landed on me, his expression shifted—surprise, followed by something darker, something smug.

He jogged toward the fence, stopping just short of me, his lips curving into a slow smirk.

"You spying on me, Ballerina?"

I huffed, crossing my arms. "I wanted to see what you actually do all day instead of answering my texts."

Bryan chuckled, shaking his head. "You're distracting, that's why."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you admit you ignore me on purpose?"

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just for me. "Nah, I just get too busy thinking about the way you sound when you moan my name."

My face went up in flames.

"Bryan," I hissed, smacking his arm.

He laughed, looking way too pleased with himself.

"Are you staying?" he asked, tilting his head toward the bleachers.

I nodded. "Yeah. If I came all this way, I might as well see if you're actually good or just all talk."

Bryan's eyes darkened, amused and challenging all at once. "Careful what you say, baby. I might have to show off just for you."

Before I could respond, Ethan called out, "Come on, Munzo! Stop flirting and get back over here!"

Bryan winked at me before jogging back onto the field.

And, true to his word, he started showing off.

Every hit was clean, powerful. Every throw was precise. His entire body moved with confidence, and every now and then, he glanced over at me, like he was making sure I was watching.

I was.

I really, really was.

And when he finally came back over to me at the end of practice, sweaty, breathless, and grinning, I knew one thing for sure—

I was completely screwed.

Because I was falling for him.

Hard.

I was just about ready to tell Bryan how unfairly good he looked when he strolled over, still sweaty, grinning like he'd just won a game he played against himself.

Before I could open my mouth, he grabbed my wrist and started pulling me toward the field.

"Bryan, what are you doing?" I asked, digging my heels into the ground.

He shot me a smirk over his shoulder. "You came to watch. Now it's your turn to play."

My eyes widened in horror.

"What?" I squeaked, planting myself firmly in place.

Bryan sighed dramatically, stopping just long enough to turn and look at me, his expression full of fake disappointment. "What, scared? You can dance on stage in front of hundreds of people, but a little baseball makes you nervous?"

I scowled. "That's different."

He tilted his head. "How?"

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Before I could come up with an excuse, Ethan and Kevin appeared, grinning like they had just been gifted front-row seats to my humiliation.

"Oh hell yes," Ethan said, clapping his hands together. "Amber's playing?"

"No, she's not," I said quickly.

"Yes, she is," Bryan countered, pulling me onto the field.

Kevin chuckled, shaking his head. "This is gonna be fun."

I shot him a betrayed look. "You're supposed to be the reasonable one!"

Kevin shrugged. "I want to see this."

"Same," Ethan added, grabbing a bat and holding it out to me. "Come on. Let's see what you got."

I stared at the bat like it was some foreign object I had never seen before.

"I literally have no idea what I'm doing," I admitted.

Bryan grinned, stepping behind me and grabbing the bat from Ethan's hand.

"Good thing I'm a great teacher," he said smoothly, placing the bat in my hands.

I sighed in defeat, letting him position me in front of the plate.

"If I hit myself in the face with this, I'm blaming you."

Bryan snickered, stepping up behind me and placing his hands over mine, adjusting my grip.

"I'd never let that happen, princessa" he murmured near my ear.

I shivered, cursing him internally.

Kevin stood a few feet away, getting ready to toss the ball underhand.

"Okay," Bryan said, his voice low, steady, like I was actually about to take this seriously. "You're gonna keep your eyes on the ball. Step into the swing. And don't let go of the bat."

I exhaled slowly, nodding even though I was fully convinced this was going to be a disaster.

Kevin tossed the ball.

I swung.

And completely missed.

The air whooshed as the bat flew through nothing.

Ethan doubled over laughing.

Bryan let out a low chuckle, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. "Okay, good effort. We'll work on actually making contact next time."

I groaned, dropping my head back against his chest. "This is so embarrassing."

"You're cute when you're frustrated," Bryan murmured, his lips brushing against my ear.

I whipped around, glaring up at him. "I hate you."

His smirk widened. "No, you don't."

I sighed, turning back toward the field. "Fine. One more try."

Ethan wiped a tear from his eye. "Please, for my entertainment, keep going."

I rolled my eyes, gripping the bat tighter as Bryan adjusted my stance again.

Kevin tossed another ball.

This time, I made contact.

The bat clinked against the ball, sending it bouncing a few feet forward.

There was a moment of silence.

Then—cheering.

"YES, AMBER!" Ethan whooped, clapping dramatically.

Kevin nodded approvingly. "Better than I expected."

Bryan just grinned, turning me toward him.

"I knew you had it in you, Ballerina."

I huffed, crossing my arms. "I feel like that was a pity clap."

"Not at all," Bryan said, leaning down slightly, his face just inches from mine.

I narrowed my eyes. "You're gonna kiss me as a distraction, aren't you?"

Bryan smirked. "You know me too well."

And then, before I could say anything else, his lips were on mine.

The cheers from Ethan and Kevin immediately turned into groans.

"Oh, come on," Ethan complained. "Not in the middle of the field!"

Bryan ignored him, deepening the kiss just enough to make me forget that we weren't alone.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark, filled with something teasing, something smug.

"Guess now we know you're good with a bat," he murmured.

I scowled. "I changed my mind. I hate you."

Bryan laughed, tugging me closer. "Sure you do, Ballerina."

And even though I wanted to pretend I was mad at him, I knew the truth.

I wasn't mad.

Not even a little.

Because standing here, with Bryan's hands still on my waist, my heart racing, and the sound of my friends laughing in the background—

I was happy.

--------

🚨 WE'RE DOWN TO THE FINAL 10 CHAPTERS! 🚨

That's right—The Bad Boy's Ballerina is officially on its last stretch, and I don't know whether to cry, scream, or throw my laptop across the room.

Amber and Bryan have bickered, danced around their feelings, and driven each other (and me) insane—but now, with only 10 chapters left, we're heading toward the biggest moments yet. Will they survive the chaos? Stay tuned.

Thank you for sticking with me through this absolute rollercoaster—I cannot wait for you to see how this story wraps up. Let's finish strong!