by Emilia Finn
He catches my weight, he marks me, and ten minutes later, he taps my ass and sends me out the front door.
“Five, six, seven, eight.” I tap my foot against the floor in beat to the music, and clap my bare thigh with my right hand, since I can’t clap with my left.
There could be some merit in this ‘you have to see a doctor’ plan of Jamie’s.
“Bring it back to the chorus,” I tell Soph and Lucy, then I look around. “Where’s your dance partner – that dude with the nice skin?”
“Rudy?” Lucy rests her hands on her knees and breathes through hours of hard cardio. “He’s not in today.”
“Is he ever in? Jesus. Your dance partner is a flake.”
She stands taller and presses her hands to her hips. “He’s not a flake. Rudy and Ralph adopted a baby last month. They’re kinda busy right now, and we’re not doing anything nearly as important here.”
“You need a third in this routine.”
“No we don’t,” she snaps. “We’re purposely doing this routine because it’s only two people. Rudy’s busy, and Mac said he doesn’t dance anymore because Ben teases him too much.” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “We purposely did it this way so we could do it just the two of us.”
“But imagine this…” I point to their marks, and address Lucy. “You start there, in…” I look to Soph.
“Second position.”
“Second position! And Soph starts over here, in…”
“Fifth,” she sighs.
“Right! And you guys come together. It’s like swans meeting, right? Like, let’s forget the cliché part of what I just said, and imagine what it actually looks like. Two swans crossing a still lake. So elegant, so graceful. Then you meet in the middle, and you move into…”
“Arabesque.”
“Yes! Arabesque. And then you, Lucy, you do the spinning thing.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Soph grumbles. But beneath the grumble, I swear she’s smiling. “The spinning thing. For the rest of time, we’re calling it ‘the spinning thing’.”
“Once you pull out of that,” I turn back to Lucy, “you’re kinda just back to being a swan again. And that’s cute and all, but if you had a third, you could have a little more drama. A little more oomph, ya know?”
“Oomph?” Soph questions. “I don’t think they have a word in French for that.”
“Do you have a comment for everything, like a word quota you have to hit every day? Damn.”
She snickers and waves Lucy closer. “I like to talk sometimes. It’s when I’m silent that you need to worry. Alright, let’s try the oomph spinning thing, we’ll fold Quinn into the routine, and then—”
“Wait. Me?” My heart gives a heavy splat in the pit of my chest. “I didn’t say I wanted to dance it. I want Rudy back.”
“Rudy’s not here.” She steps forward and grabs my good arm to steer me into place. “You’re here, and so full of good ideas, so now you back them up. Or I can put you on phone duty.”
“But… my arm! I can’t… I don’t…”
“Phone duty?”
“I’ll dance,” I grumble.
I let her place me where Lucy started. I’m the swan, Soph is the other swan, and the one we know is the most talented of the three of us, Lucy, she’s our third, the dramatic, oomph-y one.
“Say the words,” Soph instructs. “She’s a fighter too, so you guys have that language in common.”
“I’m not a fighter,” I scowl.
“No, but you were raised by one. Show me a back heel kick.”
I don’t consciously do it, I swear I don’t mean to, but years and years of watching Will has led me to this moment.
I lift my back leg, and kick it backwards.
Soph smiles and shakes her head. “And there’s your arabesque. But don’t look back like a fighter would, look forward. Okay.” She claps her hands so I lower my leg. “Tell Lucy what you want, tell her in fight terms if that’s what you need to do. Good lord,” she rolls her eyes. “This studio is nothing if not unique.”
“Ellie would be so proud,” Lucy teases. “Ballet moves spoken in fight terms. It’s kinda badass, right?”
“It kinda is,” Soph admits. “And our lead dancer is a fighter. It’s only proper that we mix the two worlds.”
“Oh!” A routine plays out in my head. Like a movie reel, images flicker through my mind, one after the other. “We could totally make an entire routine out of fight moves. Oh!”
A spinning kick that I’ve seen Will slam against a boxing bag a million times over the years now plays in my head, but it turns more graceful, the leg goes higher, the spin more fluid and less ‘I’m gonna knock your head off’.
“Soph!”
She presses a hand to her stomach, and laughs. “Do this routine! Focus on this one. But choreograph the other one, and show us when you’ve got something. Once you put it together, we can sell exorbitantly priced tickets to the Rollers just so they can watch.”
“Best business model ever,” Lucy giggles. “And if we don’t shake our asses even once, my daddy will probably cry of happiness and pride.”
“Every dance needs at least one twerk,” Soph drawls. “Even in the world of elegance and ballerinas, we have to show our inner hoe at least once. It’s in the rules.”
“Oh, well.” Our third swan steps to the stereo, and snags the remote. “If it’s in the rules, then it’s in the rules. Who am I to say no to that?”
“Exactly.”
Somehow, even with a bum arm, and only two days of watching this dance, I manage to layer myself into the routine these ladies have been working on for a year. I take Lucy’s position, we write a new role just for her, and as our star, she becomes our push and pull, our drama, our oomph, and the one, of the three of us, who flies.
Soph’s cellphone rings around ten-thirty, so while she takes the call, Lucy and I take a break and head to our bags, tossed to the floor in front of the mirrors. I grab a water bottle – the musty one – and my phone, while Lucy grabs her water and leans back against the glass to catch her breath.
I check my phone while I sip, and smile at the texts that sit waiting.
Jamie: I still have a crush on your chin. Just wanted to tell you that.
Jamie: Well, and your titties, too. But I feel like you already knew that. Plus, saying titties sounds so… piggish, right? No? Okay! Titties it is.
Jamie: Also, I feel like you were lying about the origins of your nickname. Because I still think you have the best bubble butt in the history of dancers.
Jamie: FYI, Will just got knocked the fuck down. By a girl! It was glorious.
I snort and draw Lucy’s attention as I bring a hand up to wipe spilled water from my chin.
She peeks at my phone, then into my eyes, and shakes her head. “My brother. You’re doing that smile, and it’s because of my brother. That’s, like, only a tiny bit weird.”
I snicker. “I guess it could be weird. I can’t say I relate; my brother has never brought a girl into my life the way Jamie brought me into yours.”
She frowns. “But he’s, like… twenty-eight?”
I shrug and take another pull of my water. “He spends time with women, that’s obvious. But not in front of me. Never ever. He’s too protective for that kind of nonsense.”
Without replying to Jamie, I drop my phone back into my bag and lean against the mirror beside Lucy. “Do you believe us?” I turn just my head and roll my bottom lip between my teeth. “Do you believe that Will didn’t hurt that person?”
“You know…” She draws a long breath through her chest, then lets it out again. “I wasn’t there, I have literally nothing to do with the person they’re saying he hurt, but—”
“You think he did it?”
“No,” she clarifies. “I’m literally so removed from that situation that I don’t even get to make an opinion. But I was gonna say, even if he did… I like Will. He’s kind, he’s a good sport, he’s a good fighter, but most of al
l, he’s selfless when it comes to you. I know what kind of sacrifices he’s made to keep you safe, and I know the sacrifices you’ve made in return. I’m just…” She sighs. “I’m saying, even if he did hurt the guy, I think I would still believe the best of him. I would assume that it was necessary, or in protection of you. I would believe that, whatever his reasons, they were pure and selfless.”
“The law doesn’t work that way, though. They wouldn’t much care for the reasons behind it. Just that it happened.”
“Right.” She nods. “Which I guess is the reason I’m not a cop. I used to have a pretty narrow vision of the world, but as I grow older and experience new things, I guess I’m learning that the world is anything but black and white. Good people die, and bad people live. Good people break the law, and bad people get away with bad things.” She turns and meets my eyes. “Good people take matters into their own hands sometimes when the law can’t get something done, and I’m not gonna be the person who says what they did was wrong. The police have rules they have to abide by, and that’s fine. I believe in law and order too, but sometimes, we need a vigilante to clean up a mess someone else made.”
“Wow.” I turn back to study the studio – and Soph, who’s on the opposite end in her leotard, but with her business face on, and her phone pressed to her ear. “I didn’t expect that from you.”
“No?”
“No. I mean, maybe Soph, and maybe… I don’t know… Evie?”
Lucy laughs. “She seems the type.”
“Right. But you’re just… quieter. More sensible. I would have assumed you were the good girl in school, the snitch.”
She snickers and takes another sip of her water. “That’s something you’ll eventually learn about my family. We’re not snitches. It’s, like, in our constitution or something. The cops still haven’t charged anyone for the pet food factory explosion.”
“And the ice cream statue currently sitting in Jamie’s laundry?”
She grins, and swallows down her laugh. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, nor am I inclined to help return Miss Dixie’s lover so she can ride him into the sunset. That’s a nice watch you’ve got there.” She nods toward my wrist. “My brother’s?”
“I stole it.”
She snorts. “I know. We all know. But we don’t snitch. Wait—Soph…?” she calls out as Sophia passes through the studio doorway and into the hall. “Where are you going? We’re not done yet.”
“Keep going,” she calls back. “I’ve gotta take this.”
“Is it something to do with my brother?” I call after her. “Sophia? Is this something Will or I need to know?”
“Maybe, yeah.” She pokes her head back into the studio like she knows my stomach just dropped. “Nothing bad has happened, so relax. I told you I was having people do some legwork back in your city. I’m getting that data now.” She looks to Lucy. “I’m heading to Checkmate and meeting up with Griffin to chat. You guys grab some lunch when it’s time, and then keep going until three when the kids arrive. Quinn, you’re already on the payroll, so take that class for me.”
“Wait.” I shake my head, and search for sense. “What?”
“I’ll be back later. Ask Lucy whatever you don’t know. And if you utter the words ‘that spinny thing’ one single time while teaching in my studio, I’ll cut you.” She thrusts a finger in my direction, grits her teeth in warning, then smiles and spins away.
“Are you ever afraid of her killing you?” I ask with a frown.
Lucy tosses her water bottle down and nods. “Every damn day. But at the same time, she makes me feel exceptionally safe. It’s a conundrum for sure.” She pushes off the mirrors, but looks over her shoulder to me. “Let’s table the routine we were doing, and instead talk about that fighter one. I wanna see what you see.”
I smile, and push off the wall. I see what I see in my mind, but I wanna see it in real life. I want to see Lucy Kincaid dance it.
And just like that, I’m living out another dream. I’m choreographing, and a dancer of extraordinary caliber is performing my moves.
Jamie
A Different Kind of Choreography
“Bring your arm around to the left there.”
I stand over a grappling Will and Bry – both heavyweights, both sweating, but only one of them has an actual education on how to fight properly. The other did his best with the tools he had over the years. No true fight gym, no formal lessons, he just came up with his own style, and made sure that, even if it was rough, it was effective.
“No, like… do it like this.” I drop down to one knee, and nurse my arm to my chest, just as our AT instructed me to. I lean over Will, and move his hand while Bry simply lays on the canvas and catches his breath. “Bring your left arm across his body. He has no gi, but I want you to think like he does.”
“He won’t have a gi in a tournament either,” Will grunts out. “So why the fuck are we pretending he has one now?”
“So I can explain the theory behind what you’re doing.”
Will turns his head, and glares so hard that I can almost feel the heat.
“Just do as you’re told! Fuck. Reach across his chest, press your forearm to his throat, because for as long as you control the head, he can’t do shit.” I reach across his body, and tap his right leg. “Now bring this across. It’s like…” I try to remember back to my kid classes, and the way our parents would explain things. “Consider his legs like an alligator’s mouth. Get caught between them, and he’s gonna crunch down and take you out. So first, close that alligator mouth with your right hand.” I slap Bry’s thigh. “Your hand here, close it up, then swing your leg over. Take mount, and—”
“He lost my head,” Bry murmurs.
Will’s eyes snap back to Bry’s. “What?”
“Your arm.” He smacks Will’s arm. “You were supposed to control my head, but you lost it.”
“I was concentrating on the fuckin’ alligator bullshit!”
“I have two arms, two legs, and a head. You gotta focus on them all at the same time, otherwise you’re gonna lose.”
“Or,” he snaps back. “I can slam my elbow against your jaw now, put you to sleep, and you lose. Simple.”
“Brute strength is fun.” I pull his shoulder back to give Bry space. “But a smart fighter is infinitely more lethal than a strong fighter. If you wanna compete this year, I wanna send you in smart, not jacked-up and angry.”
“Jacked-up and angry is a good combo for me.” He meets my eyes and sneers, “Wanna spar?”
“What’s up with you today?” The heat in this gym is oppressive, and I’m not even the one working out, so I drop back to my ass, and try to breathe past the humidity making its way into my lungs. “Yesterday, we were pals. Today, you’re a broody douchebag. What the fuck did I do to you?”
“Nothing.” He turns back to Bry. “Keep going. I’ll listen to you.”
“Burn,” Bry snickers. “Jamie lost a friend overnight.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” I yank Will’s shoulder back again. “I’m trying to help you.”
“You weren’t asleep when I got home last night, Kincaid. And just because I said I would choose you for her, doesn’t mean I wanna listen to that bullshit.”
“What—”
But then it hits me.
“Oh, damn.”
“What?” Bry asks. “Oh damn, what?”
“I’m about ready to run you down with my car,” Will growls. “So if you think today’s a good day for you and I to be in the same octagon, then step up, but I have a whole bunch of jacked-up rage waiting for you.”
“What did you do?” Bry asks. “Did you fuck his moth—” Then his eyes widen. “Oh. Damn. That’s unfortunate as hell.”
“I didn’t realize you and Quinn were together,” Will growls. “I was under the impression I was leaving my sister in your care so you could help her, keep her safe, keep her away from McGrady.”
“You did! I was. I kept her�
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“Not once did I say anything about you taking her to bed. I feel like we’ve discussed this in the past. Pretty sure I showed you my jacked-up rage back when I knocked you on your ass.”
“Will, it’s not—” I pause. Then sigh. “I’m in love with your sister, and she’s in love with me. In a perfect world, it would be that simple, and we’d be together. None of this is news to you. There has never been a moment in five years when we weren’t attracted to each other. The problems with our relationship have always been external.”
“External, being me?”
“Well…” I meet his eyes. “Yes. You are the reason she and I can’t have a smooth ride into forever. Her need to keep you safe, her need to prove your innocence. I found her again because I want her in my life, which means Soph helping you is actually Soph helping me.”
“Harsh,” Bry fake coughs, because he’s always enjoyed tossing gas on a fire.
“It’s the truth,” I admit on an exhale. “And there isn’t a person in this room who is only learning that now. I want Quinn. I want to marry her, I want to keep her for the rest of my life, and if keeping her means I have a permanent guest in my spare bedroom, then I’ll take it.”
“Just like that?” Will asks. “If she says we’re a package deal, you’re not gonna argue?”
“Not for a single second. I’ve already tried living my life without her. For four years, I tried to find a new normal, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t dig my way out of that hole. Now she’s here, and holy-cliché-Batman, but the sun is shining again. The world doesn’t suck so much anymore.” I meet his gaze and shake my head. “I have never once hidden my attraction to your sister, so it was inevitable that if you put us in the same room for five minutes without anyone else to chaperone, we were going to be drawn together. You had to know what would happen.”
“My sister is an angel,” he chokes out. “She’s a good girl.”
“She’s still your angel, Will. Having another man love her isn’t a bad thing. Having another man be willing to go to war and die for her isn’t a bad thing.”