Breaking Skin

by Debra Doxer

  “I was so happy to hear you’re back.”

  “Thank you.” She smiles pleasantly, but I’m sure she didn’t arrive here without some controversy, likely in the form of Dennis being pissed beyond all comprehension.

  “I understand you were called away for a family emergency.”

  I nod.

  Nadia’s eyes scan down to my hands, which I’m wringing in front of me. I stop and lower them to my sides.

  “When can we expect you back?”

  There it is. The million-dollar question. “I’m afraid I don’t know.”

  Her thin brows arch up. “You don’t know?”

  I release a shaky breath and realize I have to tell her the truth. I don’t want to lie. I respect her too much for that and can’t hold in all the emotions I’m feeling, not when they’re so wrapped up in this place and my future here.

  As I launch into my explanation, Nadia must see something in my expression because she closes the door, and the ten-minute morning break turns into twenty.

  When I walk out of the studio, Deedee is the first person I see.

  “How did it go?” she asks, grabbing my arm as people file by us.

  I’m too dazed to explain and too shocked to process it all. “Good, I think. Can I call you later?”

  Her eyes narrow. “Good? That’s all you’re going to say? Do you know when you’re coming back?”

  “No. Soon, I hope.”

  The piano music starts and Deedee’s frustration is palpable because she doesn’t have time to pry more information out of me. “Promise you’ll call?”

  “I promise.”

  She gives me a quick squeeze and dashes inside.

  I turn and find Cole there waiting for me, studying my expression.

  “I heard you say it went good.”

  “I can’t talk here. Let’s go outside.”

  I lead him through the building toward the exit because Nadia asked me to keep what she said quiet until she makes the announcement to everyone. It’s an announcement I can hardly wrap my head around.

  Once we’re out on the sidewalk, I tilt my head back and stare up at the clear blue sky.

  “Nikki?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you okay?”

  With a chuckle, I turn to face him. “I’m better than okay.”

  I launch myself at him, throwing my arms and legs around his body. He takes a step back before he regains his balance and wraps his arms around me.

  “What happened in there?” he asks, his voice filled with amusement.

  I release my hold on his neck and lean back far enough to see his face. “Nadia says there’s going to be a shake-up. Dennis used to cast roles based on who was his favorite at the moment, and if you were out of favor with him, you didn’t stand a chance. Nadia is going to do things differently. She invited me to audition for a solo spot in the next show. She said she only invited one other dancer to audition for the same role.”

  A grin lights up his face. “That’s great.”

  “Can you believe it? She thinks I could be a soloist. She wanted to offer me a solo spot when she was here before, but Dennis nixed the idea.”

  “I’m happy for you, Nikki.” Cole plants a kiss on me, but his cautious smile lets some of the air out of my sails.

  “I know. I know,” I say as I slide off him and plant my feet solidly on the ground. “I haven’t forgotten about Langley or Renee. I told Nadia what’s going on, and she said she can give me a few more days, a week if I absolutely need it, but I have to be back at rehearsals by the following week or she’ll have no choice but to give the role to the other dancer.”

  His cautious expression remains. “It’s not just that. What about your knee?”

  My lips press together. “My knee is fine.”

  “Nikki.” He says my name like a parent would to a child.

  I know it’s unreasonable to get angry at him, but I feel the burn in my chest building anyway.

  “You collapsed the last time you danced. I saw you.”

  “But I haven’t done any real dancing in almost a week. It feels better.”

  He narrows his eyes. “I know this thing with your knee has been going on for a long time. One week won’t make it better. I called yesterday and made you an appointment with that doctor I told you about.” He glances at his watch. “You have to be there in two hours. We can grab some lunch first.”

  “What?” My heart rate spikes.

  “Anything the doctor says will be between you and him. It won’t get back to your dance company. At least see him and find out what’s wrong. Maybe there’s a way to fix it?”

  My lips stay parted in disbelief. He was even more heavy-handed when he planned this day than I realized. The protective streak I was so impressed with seems to be working against me now.

  “Nikki, I’m happy for you. I hope you know that. You’re a talented dancer and you obviously deserve this, but how can you handle a solo with an injured knee?”

  Everything he says is perfectly reasonable. I know that, but I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to accept it. It’s like a kick to the stomach. I finally get my chance at a solo and I can’t handle it? No. No fucking way.

  Shaking my head, I spin away from him and obstinately stare in the opposite direction.

  Cole comes up behind me. He brushes my hair to the side and drapes it over my shoulder. Then his warm breath fans over the back of my exposed neck.

  “You can’t put your head in the sand,” he says softly. “You have to face it, whatever it is.”

  I swallow, and what’s left of my short-lived excitement drains away. “Why? Why does every good thing have a caveat, some fatal flaw that ruins it?” I hate how defeatist I sound but I can’t help it.

  His arms come around me and he rests his chin on that spot between my shoulder and my neck. “I understand, sweetheart. I understand better than you know. But you can’t give up, no matter how many obstacles are put in your way. Persevere and those good things will come to you. When they do, you’ll appreciate them even more because they were so hard-earned and well-deserved.”

  Guilt washes over me and I turn in his arms. Compared to what he’s dealing with, my problem seems insignificant.

  “Sounds like good advice. Is that how you deal with what you’re going through? You persevere?”

  “Giving up isn’t an option.”

  “Not for you.” I smile. “I can’t imagine you ever giving up.”

  “Not in my nature. Not in yours either.”

  “How do you know?”

  He turns me around and takes my face in his hands so that we’re only a breath away from each other. “Because I can see it,” he says as his eyes search mine. “I can feel it. I bet I can even taste it.”

  Cole bends to give me a deep, soft kiss, one that I feel all the way to my toes.

  I don’t know why he believes in me so much when I find it hard to believe in myself. Maybe he sees something I don’t. I want to believe him. I want to be the woman he sees.

  When he releases me, a young girl crosses the street in front of us.

  “Is this where SFBC rehearses?” she asks, gazing up at the building.

  “This is it,” I reply.

  She thanks me and makes her way inside. She’s young, probably just enrolled in one of the teen programs. Seeing her makes me think of Mia and how excited she was at the prospect of taking classes here. I recall Lisanne telling me to back off when I wanted to talk to Mia’s mother again. So I backed off. Except after the things Cole just said to me, it feels like I gave up.

  “Instead of getting lunch, can we go somewhere before the doctor appointment?”

  He gives me a quizzical look. “Where?”

  “To a friend’s house. Then I need to go by my apartment to pick up some things.”

  “Sure.”

  He smiles, and I think he’s pleased I’m not fighting him about the doctor. I can’t because deep down I know he’s right. It took his rea
soning and his belief in me to make me admit what I already knew. I have to face the music and deal with my injury once and for all.

  We get back into Cole’s SUV and ten minutes later we’re standing outside the door of Mia’s duplex apartment. I’ve missed my last two volunteer days at the youth center, but I want her to know I haven’t forgotten about her.

  “What are we doing here?” Cole asks.

  I grin up at him. “You’ll see.”

  His expression is one of curious indulgence as the door opens.

  Mia’s mother takes one look at me and sighs. “Not again, Miss . . . Um, Miss—”

  “It’s Nikki, and that’s not why I’m here.” I keep my fingers crossed behind my back.

  Mrs. Callahan is still dressed in her waitress uniform from the diner with her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail.

  “Last time I came, I noticed your son plays hockey, and I thought he might like to meet a friend of mine.”

  She eyes us both suspiciously, although her expression softens slightly as she takes in Cole. It’s a look I’ve seen on more than a few women when they see him.

  “Hi, Nikki.” Mia steps out from behind her mother and grins shyly. “You haven’t been at the center in a while.”

  “I’m sorry. I had some family stuff come up. That just means I owe you even more new dance steps for next time. I was wondering if your brother’s home?”

  She seems surprised that I’m asking for her brother. “Michael’s inside playing video games.”

  Since Mrs. Callahan has yet to invite us in, I ask Mia if she could go get her brother. I’m sure Cole is getting a clue by now and I hope he doesn’t mind, but it’s hard to tell because he stands quietly beside me, giving no indication of his thoughts.

  A few seconds later, Mia drags her older brother to the open doorway. He acts put out and anxious to get back to his game until he takes a good look at Cole.

  “You’re . . . you’re . . .”

  Cole grins with amusement and shifts on his feet. “Cole Dempsey,” he finishes for the kid.

  “Demolition Man Dempsey!” Michael shouts with excitement, and his mother gives Cole another look.

  “I thought you looked familiar,” Mrs. Callahan says, appearing flustered. “What’s he doing here?” she asks me.

  “He’s a friend of mine. Can we come in for a minute?”

  She and the kids step back so we can walk inside.

  “I hope this is okay?” I whisper over my shoulder to Cole.

  “What’s the center?” he asks.

  “The youth center where I volunteer. That’s where I met Mia.”

  Cole is barely into the room when Mia’s brother grabs his arm. “Can I get a picture with you?”

  I cringe, but Cole agrees good-naturedly. As Mrs. Callahan uses her phone to take their picture, I stand off to the side and ask her if she still has those forms I left last time.

  Her eyes narrow knowingly. “I have them but I told you, I don’t have money for dance lessons.”

  “It wouldn’t cost you anything if I sponsor Mia and she gets a scholarship. It’s worth a try.”

  Cole watches me as I talk to Mrs. Callahan, and I still can’t read him. I hope he’s not too annoyed that I’ve used him this way.

  “Please, Mom,” Mia says quietly.

  When she still hesitates, Cole turns to Michael. “Maybe I could stop by your hockey practice sometime and see your team, give you a few pointers.”

  Michael’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Really?”

  Mrs. Callahan silently shakes her head but she’s smiling. She knows what I’m doing and why I brought Cole, but that doesn’t seem to matter because I think it’s working.

  “Fine. As long as it won’t cost anything.”

  Mia screeches and jumps up and down. She runs over and hugs first her mother and then me.

  It takes about ten minutes to fill out the forms with Mia’s mother. During that time, Mia’s brother nearly talks Cole’s ear off, and I try to speed the process along.

  When we’re finished, I seal the forms in the envelope. “Want me to go by the post office for you?” I ask Mrs. Callahan.

  She gives me a suspicious look. “I am planning on mailing them.”

  “I know.” I smile brightly.

  “Fine. Thank you.” She sighs in resignation.

  Mia thanks me again on our way out, but I’m afraid I’m going to need the Jaws of Life to extract Cole from the clutches of Mia’s brother. After we finally get outside and the door closes behind us, Cole takes my hand and pulls me down the sidewalk toward his SUV.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I used you like that,” I say, apprehensive because he’s not saying anything as he rushes us back to his truck. “I remembered her brother liked hockey, and I thought—”

  He stops beside his parking space and backs me up against the side of his SUV. “I’m not mad. I just couldn’t wait to do this.”

  Cole kisses me hard and deep, leaving me shocked and breathless when he pulls away.

  “I had you all wrong when you first got to town and you never said a word in your own defense. I acted like a complete ass, and I want you to know how sorry I am. For future reference, you can use me any fucking way you want.”

  Oh my. He kisses me again, but this time it’s quick and not nearly enough.

  “We’d better go. You don’t want to miss your appointment.”

  “Wait.” I pull him back to me and he chuckles.

  “Don’t worry, Nikki. Our time will come.”

  Before I can react, he pulls open the door and lifts me up into the passenger seat.

  As I track him walking around to the driver’s side, I wonder at how skillfully he draws me in, not by pushing or being aggressive, but by waiting and watching. By letting me know how much he wants me, but staying steady and dependable at the same time. By being here for me just the way I need him to be.

  It makes me feel safe. Safe enough to be reckless because if I fall, I know with absolute certainty that he’ll catch me.

  The doctor’s office may as well have been the guillotine based on how I felt riding the elevator up to the tenth floor and walking down the long hallway that led to our destination. I was afraid my dream of dancing was going to end in that office. Years of hard work demolished in an instant.

  Having Cole beside me is what got me through it. He was my reassurance and my strength during all the tests and our discussion with the doctor afterward. For those few hours, I leaned on Cole and gratefully accepted his help.

  Now we’re climbing the stairs to my apartment, and I keep glancing at Cole because I can’t seem to take my eyes off him.

  “It’s been one hell of a day,” he says.

  “You can say that again.”

  “How do you feel about what the doctor said?”

  I’m about to say “fine” the way I always do, but I stop myself because I know he won’t accept that answer. I like that he won’t accept it.

  “I’m scared but also relieved.”

  “It was good news, Nikki. Three months isn’t that long.”

  “In the career of a dancer, it’s practically forever.”

  He flashes me a smile. “Are dance years like dog years?”

  “That’s probably a good comparison.”

  The doctor told me I have a torn meniscus. It probably started as a small tear from landing on my knee the wrong way, and because I never sought treatment, it’s now a much larger tear that needs surgery to heal. Apparently, I’m in good company. According to the doctor, Mikhail Baryshnikov had the same exact surgery and made a full recovery. He thinks I could be dancing on it again within three to four months.

  That does seem like good news, but it also means I’ll miss our next show, the one I could have my first solo in if I were healthy. Looking on the bright side, this injury will not end my dance career and that’s a tremendous relief, assuming I still have a career after being gone all that time for the surgery and rehabilita
tion. The company can’t terminate my contract for a dance-related injury, but they don’t have to hold my spot. They don’t have to use me if they’ve done just fine without me for months.

  It’s a lot to absorb on top of all the other things I’m dealing with.

  I unlock the door to my apartment and walk inside. The air is warm and stagnant from being unoccupied.

  “I’ll just be a minute. I only need a few things.”

  “Take your time,” he says, glancing around curiously. “I told Lily we wouldn’t be back until tonight.”

  I head for my bedroom and wonder how my place must look through Cole’s eyes. His house belongs in a magazine while my apartment is tiny and shabby with furniture I picked up at secondhand stores. Even though Cole said we have time, I find myself rushing, nerves from the day making me jumpy despite my exhaustion. Grabbing a bag from the bottom of my closet, I shove some extra pairs of jeans inside, along with more socks and underwear.

  When I hear Cole walk toward the bedroom and linger in the open doorway, I turn and note the way the top of his head nearly touches the top of the door frame.

  “I remember this smell,” he says and his eyes close briefly. “I was in a store once and smelled something like it. The moment I caught a whiff, I thought of you and that night. When I asked the salesgirl what it was, she said it was honeysuckle.”

  He remembers my scent, and that does funny things to my stomach. My gaze goes to the bottle of lotion I keep on my nightstand.

  “It is honeysuckle.” For years, I’ve put it on every night before bed. The scent does seem to linger in the room.

  “I like your apartment. How long have you lived here?”

  I try not to scoff as I pull the zipper closed on my bag and look around for what else I may need. “About four months, and you’re being polite. It’s a dump.”

  “It’s not a dump.” Cole walks into the room. “You think I’m still judging you. I’m not, Nikki. I’ve already made up my mind. I’m crazy about you.”

  My gaze flies to his and my pulse quickens at the glint in his eye. When he looks at me that way, it feels like the sun kissing my skin after a long, cold night.