First Position

by Melissa Brayden

  “Yeah?” Natalie asked, smiling at her in amusement.

  The thing was, Natalie knew Ana well enough to know when she was out of her comfort zone. But something about that calmed Ana because there was very little pretense here. “It was…good?” She shifted focus to her ice cream and took a bite, simply because she couldn’t look at Natalie after asking such an intimate question.

  “You don’t think last night was good?” Ana raised her gaze and watched as Natalie took a bite of her ice cream (custard) and licked the last little bit of it off the plastic spoon. It was a visual that stopped Ana short. “What’s with the hot-dark look you’re sporting over there?” She took another slow lick of her ice cream.

  Ana blinked at her before giving her head a little toss to clear it. “No, it’s really good. I mean last night was really good…is all…and I wondered just…what you thought. It’s not a big deal.”

  Natalie set down her ice cream, folded her hands on the table, and regarded Ana. “Let’s just say that last night, I came to the realization that you have really good hands and that your talent extends beyond the stage.”

  “Oh,” Ana said, feeling bashful and, at the same time, a little bit eager to reprise her role in last night’s post-show. Natalie thought she was good in bed, which had her wanting to…spend some more time there. Hone her skills.

  “You also have amazing taste in ice cream. I’m in heaven over here.”

  Ana grinned and sat back in her chair. “I don’t know whether to enjoy mine or watch you eat yours. The show is a good one.” This time it was Natalie’s turn to blush, which was a rare occurrence indeed. Little Miss Confident had her vulnerable moments, and Ana found those short glimpses highly attractive.

  An hour later, they stood on opposite sides of the elevator, staring at each other with the kind of pent-up tension Ana found excruciating. Natalie took a step toward her and Ana held up a hand. “We can’t. We have an elevator reputation.”

  “Yeah, and it’s kind of a good one,” Natalie said, all sly and reckless. Ana loved her reckless streak. So not helping. “I see no reason to trade it in.”

  “Patience,” Ana said, placing a hand on Natalie’s chest, “will get you everywhere, Ms. Frederico.”

  “I think I like it when you call me that.”

  “You saying provocative things to me is only making this elevator move slower.”

  “All the more reason to make out in it.”

  Ana shook her head and blew out a steadying breath, counting the moments until they’d be alone, because she really, really wanted to be alone with Natalie.

  By the time they made it down the corridor, Natalie’s hands were on her, and her hands were on Natalie. In a hot clash of lips and tongues, they stumbled down the hall like blissfully drunk people. “My place,” Natalie murmured between kisses. “I’m taking you back to my cave and having my way with you. And I’m not going slow.”

  Ana laughed and grabbed ahold of the lapels of Natalie’s jacket. “You don’t have a cave.”

  Natalie raised an eyebrow, opened the door to her place, and much to Ana’s surprise picked her up and carried her inside. “Wanna bet?” With Ana laughing and protesting the whole way, Natalie carried her to her bedroom and deposited her on the bed with a bounce. Before Ana could even take a breath, Natalie was on top of her and kissing her and oh, that was more than good, because Natalie was warm and sexy and wonderful with her curves pressed up against Ana. She blazed a trail down Ana’s neck to her collarbone, igniting each spot she touched.

  And now Ana wanted things.

  She wanted things she didn’t even have names for.

  They spent that night in pursuit of those things and so much more. The sensuous acts they performed on each other were outside the realm of Ana’s limited experience, and she thrilled to them. They were still awake when the sun came up.

  Exhausted, but wonderfully content.

  Ana glanced around Natalie’s room for the first time. There hadn’t been any opportunity for examination the night prior. Her bedroom was the mirror version of Ana’s, but it seemed to come with a lot more stuff. On the exposed brick wall hung a black-and-white photo of Kermit in a director’s chair, and across from that a dancer leaping from one rooftop to another with sparks trailing behind her. “That reminds me of you,” she murmured to Natalie, who’d closed her eyes and had begun playing with Ana’s hair. “A risk taker.” Natalie sleepily glanced at the photo in question.

  “That’s because it is me. My friend Antonio is a photographer in LA and conceptualized the shot. It was part of his gallery show on modern dance. The original sold for a lot of dough. That’s just a printed poster.”

  Ana pushed herself up onto her elbow and stared at the silhouetted female dancer, and sure enough, she recognized the shape of Natalie’s body. “It is you,” she breathed, now in love with the photo for a whole separate reason. She turned in Natalie’s arms and stared up at her. “What’s it like to be you?”

  Natalie inclined her head, considering the question. “Right now it feels pretty awesome.”

  “No,” Ana said, as she trailed her fingers softly across Natalie’s stomach and back again. “To be so fearless. You take chances in life and in your work. I could never do that. I play it safe.”

  “Not true. You’re taking the biggest risk of your life dancing on that tendon, and you know it.”

  The mention of her injury had Ana deflating from the high she’d been on. “That’s different.”

  “No, it’s not. You think you’re dancing through an injury to keep your career afloat, when in reality you’re gambling with the thing you love most.”

  Natalie was right. She was gambling, but she didn’t see any way around it. “I’m just trying to get through this show.”

  “And what if it’s your last?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t say that.”

  “Promise me something,” Natalie said, sitting up in bed, the covers pulled to her chest.

  “I’ll try.”

  “If it gets any worse, you’ll pull yourself from the show.” There were another three weeks on the run. The plan was that she’d go straight into dancing in the Sugar Plum Fairy rotation for The Nutcracker during the winter season, a detail she hadn’t discussed yet with Natalie.

  “I won’t let it get worse. But if it does, I will talk to Bill.”

  Natalie slid down the bed so they were face-to-face. “You need to make peace with the fact that you can’t control the world, Ana, and you may not be able to control this injury.”

  Ana nodded, but couldn’t make herself agree. “Easier said than done.”

  Natalie shook her head in defeat and placed a kiss at Ana’s temple. “Try and get some sleep. You have a matinee today. I’m gonna go seek out some breakfast for us.” Ana watched in appreciation as Natalie walked, naked and confident, across the room before slipping into a pair of jeans and a hoodie.

  “Oh! Can I have a bagel with—”

  “Fat-free cream cheese. I’m familiar with you.” Natalie shimmied her way into her second shoe and headed for the door.

  “Thank you,” Ana called after her.

  “Get some sleep!” she heard from the hallway. “That’s an order.”

  Once alone, Ana closed her eyes and snuggled into the sheets that smelled so much like cucumber and cotton, a combination she’d come to identify as uniquely Natalie. Slumber claimed her quickly and she slept long and hard, as the most wonderful dreams descended on her.

  Maybe it was possible to have it all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Two weeks later, the holidays had firmly fallen on New York City, and Natalie was ready to explore. Skip down the sidewalk even if necessary, though skipping was not exactly her style. Hot chocolate, holly, and holiday music had her geared up for Christmas. This city knew how to do merriment right, and Natalie loved Christmas.

  “We have to go to Rockefeller Center,” she told Ana, who buttered her toast with the precision of a R
enaissance painter as she stood at the counter in a T-shirt and underwear. This was one of Natalie’s favorite images in her years on planet Earth. “Now.”

  “Now?” Ana said, narrowing her gaze. “We just woke up.”

  “Yes. It’s called We’re Missing Out on the Fun in Rockefeller Center. The tree is up and we need to see it.”

  “It looks the same as it did last year. But your lovable factor is kicking in, so it’s possible I could be persuaded.”

  “Got it. Persuasion I can handle. First persuasive argument: Today is a day off and we rarely have those at the same time.”

  “Valid point. I’m listening.”

  “Second persuasive argument: What if I told you that you were the cutest toast butterer I’ve ever met and if you don’t come do Christmassy tasks with me in midtown, I’ll die of a broken heart? I will, too.” She wrapped her arms around Ana from behind and placed a kiss on the visible skin of her shoulder blade just outside of her shirt.

  “You think you’re pretty smooth, don’t you?”

  “I am smooth. Admit it.” Another kiss, slower this time and up the column of Ana’s neck.

  “I don’t know what you’re, um, talking about.”

  “Do so.” Natalie slipped a hand under the T-shirt and palmed Ana’s breast. At the murmur of satisfaction, Natalie knew the toast would be abandoned soon. To her delight, she wasn’t wrong.

  Two hours later, after a fulfilling morning spent in and out of bed, they were right where Natalie wanted them to be, staring up at the biggest, grandest Christmas tree she’d ever laid eyes on. Tourists snapped candid photos and waited in line for the official photographer. Natalie was content to sit on a nearby bench with Ana and some hot cocoa, and marvel. “Where do they find trees that big?” she asked Ana.

  “Iceland. It’s where all the tall trees come from.”

  “Wow. I had no idea.”

  “Actually, I just made that up, but it’s encouraging to know that you trust me so implicitly.”

  The comment struck an unexpected chord. “I do, you know, trust you.”

  Ana stared at her, softening, her voice quiet when she spoke. “I know. I trust you, too.”

  Natalie shook her head slightly. “You’re so different, Ana, from everything I first decided about you.” Natalie thought back to her first day with the company and then before that, back to school. She’d placed Ana in a box marked “boring” and left her there, when there was so much more to discover.

  “Let me guess. Unapproachable. Unfriendly. Unexciting.”

  “Yes, and don’t forget uptight and stuck up.”

  “Ouch.”

  “We’re keeping the uptight moniker,” Natalie said with an affectionate grin. “But we’ll lose the rest. We already have.”

  “And now?” Ana asked, her vulnerability on the subject apparent in her gaze. “You can be honest.”

  “Now I think you’re funny, smart, talented, and kind. Don’t even get me started on the sexy.” She looked skyward and shook her head. “Because that part makes me a little weak in the knees, as clichéd as that sounds.”

  “I can’t imagine anything making you weak in the knees. You’re so unaffected, so strong.”

  “It is my goal generally. But there are exceptions, and you, Ana Mikhelson, affect me in the most potent sense. I’m sitting here on this bench with you and there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be. Well, unless you were there, too. Then I’d want to be in that place. It says a lot. I like a lot of people, but it’s rare that I lose myself in someone this way.”

  Ana took a moment, seemingly lost in thought. “Who would have predicted this, you and me? We’re as different as they come and we clashed hardcore early on.”

  “Oh, there’ll be more clashing, I guarantee it. But now we know there’s more underneath.”

  “Hot chocolate in front of a giant public Christmas tree?” Ana asked.

  “Exactly that. And post-clashing makeup sex is pretty awesome.”

  “It is. At least, I imagine it is.” Ana blushed and Natalie took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “I love it when you blush. Even more so when I inspire it.”

  “I’m not sure anyone else can.”

  “God.” Natalie leaned over and kissed Ana right there on that bench because there was no way she couldn’t.

  “What was that for?” Ana asked, smiling and touching her lips.

  “You. That’s what it was for. Because you’re sitting next to me being you, looking like you. That’s why.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed in public before. As in, with actual public around.”

  “Yeah, well, you might want to get used it.”

  “I’ll add it to the lengthy list.”

  Natalie laughed and intertwined her fingers with Ana’s, which happened to be freezing. “I think you should tell me all of what’s on the list. What else will take getting used to?”

  Ana took a sip of her cocoa and considered the questions. “A beautiful woman stretched out across the center of my bed each morning. Or sometimes completely on top of me, depending on the day. You’re the definition of bed hog.”

  Natalie scrunched one eye. “Guilty. I apologize.”

  “Don’t.”

  “What else?”

  “Little packets. Empty ones on the counter. You’re a fan of sweetener and there’s evidence all over my apartment in the form of wrappers and loose granules of sugar.”

  Natalie shook her head. “Man, I’m racking up the points right now.”

  “Then there’s how I’m feeling. That’s new.” Ana settled her gaze on Natalie’s.

  “Annoyed that a woman sleeps practically on top of you and then sprinkles sugar substitute all over your kitchen?”

  “More like how I’ve never been so excited to wake up each morning. How I get this little upshot in energy when I know I’m going to spend time with you. The tiny bits of sugar are purely bonus.”

  “Wow,” Natalie said, and let the declaration settle. It had to be one of her favorite series of sentences ever. “That’s…”

  “What?”

  “The most perfect thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She leaned very close to Ana’s ear and dropped her voice. “Tell me how I stop myself from falling head over heels for you. Because, Ana…I feel it happening.”

  Ana turned her face to Natalie’s and touched her cheek. A soft smile tugged the corners of her mouth. “If you figure it out, let me know, because I’m losing the battle, too.”

  “So what do we do about that?”

  Ana stared at the Christmas tree in search of the answer. “Hold on tight? I know that I, for one, am beyond scared of this new, unknown territory. So while I’m white-knuckling it a bit, I also want to enjoy every second because I’ve never felt more alive.”

  Natalie grinned and inclined her head in the direction of the tree. “Take a photo with me in front of this guy. I don’t ever want to forget today.”

  “Anything,” Ana said, and Natalie knew she meant it.

  *

  My father is in the audience.

  It was the only cognizant thought coming to Ana as she stepped off stage and into the rosin box. She was in an immense amount of pain but her father was in the audience. Damn it, she had to get a hold of the situation. She had roughly ninety seconds before making her next entrance, and she used the time in the rosin box to apply the non-slip substance to the tip of her pointe shoe.

  And she was off again.

  Twirling en pointe as pain, the most excruciating imaginable, shot from her foot and upward through her calf. What made it worse was that her shoes seemed to be dying, the shank beginning to give way. This put even more pressure on her feet, causing her to work that much harder to stay on her toes, and secondly, her father was in the audience.

  She used breathing exercises to push past it, though Jason seemed to pick up on the fact that something was wrong. “Mik, you okay?” he asked in her ear, his lips barely moving t
o give nothing away to their audience.

  She offered him the slightest of nods as they came to the most complicated portion of the ballet, the last pas de deux. She prepared herself for what was to come, and though the pain was blinding, she was doing it. She was hitting each step and she would make it to the end of this thing if it killed her.

  While the performance felt like an eternity to Ana, it at long last came to a close and she was met with the same hearty applause this ballet always seemed to command. Once again the last ballet of the evening, she smiled through curtain call and held it until the curtain fell. Her breath came in shallow spurts, and she felt Jason’s hand on her back.

  “Mik, talk to me. What happened out there? Are you okay?” Jason asked as they exited the stage.

  She shook her head and walked a few steps to the wings, limping fully now. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. Do you need a doctor?” He looked to Priscilla for help.

  “Ana, are you injured?” Priscilla asked gently.

  Ana straightened and got it together. “I’m not. My shoes died early and made it a rough performance. But I got through it. I’ll talk to Henry about it.” For good measure, she offered up a smile. Once Priscilla seemed satisfied, Ana limped her way back to the dressing room, closed the door, and sank onto the couch as the tears came in hot streams. She freed herself from the shoes and stared at her offending left foot, doing everything in her power to will the problem away. She had two days until her next scheduled performance, which was not enough rest for the caliber of injury she was dealing with. Not even close.

  There was a knock on her door followed by her father’s unique accent. “Anastasia, come out and hug your papa.”

  She stared at her features in the mirror and cursed her tear-streaked face, a sign of weakness in her family if there ever was one. “One moment, Papa.” She grabbed a Kleenex and with quick motions dabbed away the tears, followed by a quick pass with makeup remover to rid her face of the show’s dramatic design. “Here I am,” she said finally, opening the door and smiling up at her father. He was slightly heavier than the last time she’d seen him and his beard held a few more gray hairs, but the blue eyes twinkling down at her were so familiar that the tears nearly sprang into her eyes again, this time for a whole separate reason. He held his arms open and she fell into them just as she’d done as a child.