Pas de Deux

by M. J. Duncan

  Addison nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I thought it was sweet that she wrote it for—”

  “Her fiancée,” Mallory finished for her. “Yes. Well, it is, I guess. But it also isn’t, in a way.” She leaned her hip against the edge of the counter, glad that Addison just tilted her head and waited for her to continue instead of pushing for more of an explanation. She took a deep breath and let it go slowly. “Gwen, the woman who wrote the symphony, is my ex.”

  “Oh…” Addison blinked. “So I’m guessing from the way everyone reacted back at the restaurant that it didn’t end well.”

  “Understatement of the year,” Mallory confirmed with a huff of laughter that was dark and dry and completely devoid humor. “She… I…” She shook her head. “I don’t know where to begin trying to explain all of this.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Perhaps, but I want to.” Mallory smiled at the feeling of Addison’s hand covering her own and looked down at their hands. There was a lot she could say about the relationship, but it was the way it ended that truly mattered, so she decided just to start there. “I proposed to Gwen a few days after I won the audition for my position here in London.”

  The math wasn’t difficult, less than a year had passed between her failed proposal and Gwen’s much more successful attempt, and it was evident by the way Addison’s eyes widened that she understood now why the mention of Symphony in Blue wrought such a visceral reaction. “Oh, sweetie…”

  Mallory lifted her right shoulder in a small shrug. It was strange, really, how she was able to look at it all from a distance. Two months ago, the memory of that night brought her to her knees, and now… Her throat was tight and her stomach twisted and there was that familiar hollow ache in her chest and it still hurt. She had a feeling it always would. But it was no longer crippling. She could breathe, and she was still standing. Part of her had used to wonder if she would ever truly begin to heal, and she was surprised to find that she had without even noticing. “She turned me down, obviously.”

  “Wasn’t willing to move here?”

  “That was part of it, yes.” Mallory looked back up at Addison. “I won’t pretend the relationship was perfect, but…” She took a deep breath as Addison made a small sound of encouragement and pulled her hand from the edge of the counter to cradle it between both of hers. “I’d hoped that maybe…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Because it turned out that Gwen had been seeing Dana the whole time I’d been focused on getting ready for my audition here.”

  “She just told you that…?” Addison gasped.

  “Well, I mean, Dana was at her house when I showed up to surprise Gwen with the good news and everything, and she’d all but bolted at the sight of me, so after the whole failed proposal it wasn’t too difficult to figure out that she was somehow involved.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Gwen said she didn’t want to interfere with my audition preparations, so she just…” She shrugged as familiar, icy tendrils of betrayal and heartache squeezed her chest. There it was. There was the ache she had struggled against for so long. “She let me believe that everything was fine when it was anything but.”

  “What a bitch!”

  The absolute vehemence in Addison’s voice shattered the remnants of past hurt that had threatened to overwhelm her once more, and Mallory blinked at her. “No…”

  Addison’s eyebrows about shot up off her forehead at that. “What do you mean, ‘no’? How can you just…”

  “I don’t…” Mallory shrugged. “I mean…” She shook her head. “I won my audition,” she whispered. “It was my dream job, and I got it. And I don’t know if I would have been able to focus on my preparations like I needed to if every aspect of my life hadn’t been exactly as it’d been, so… I really do think that, in her own way, she was trying to help.”

  “Yeah, but still.”

  “Believe me, darling, I know.” Mallory swallowed hard and blinked against the sting of tears that threatened.

  Addison sighed and pushed off the counter to loop her arms around Mallory’s neck and pull her into a hug. “You deserve so much better than to be treated like that, Mal,” she murmured, her voice soft and layered with so much emotion that Mallory’s throat tightened at the sound of it.

  Mallory closed her eyes as she welcomed the embrace, wrapping her arms around Addison’s waist and urging her closer. “Thank you,” she breathed as she leaned her cheek against Addison’s forehead. She took a deep breath and let it go slowly. Whether it was the warmth of Addison’s embrace or the exhaustion that seemed to slam into her out of nowhere, she found herself offering, “You want to know what’s the worst part, though?”

  Addison stiffened beneath her hands. “What?”

  “I had no idea she wrote music,” Mallory whispered, her voice finally cracking under the weight of what had become Gwen’s ultimate betrayal. “She wrote an entire symphony, a fucking beautiful piece of music, and I’d had absolutely no idea…” Her voice trailed off, and she was grateful that instead of offering platitudes, Addison just held her tighter.

  How long they stayed like that she had no idea, but eventually she felt Addison yawning against her shoulder, and she smiled as she murmured, “It’s getting late, darling. I should probably—”

  “There’s no reason for you to head out now. Just stay here tonight,” Addison interrupted in a hushed, sleepy voice as she pulled back to look at her.

  Mallory held her breath as she drank in the earnestness of Addison’s soft smile and gentle gaze. It was cheating, really, to turn that look on her now, when she was physically exhausted from an impossibly long day and mentally drained from painful conversation, and she was tempted, so tempted to accept, but… “I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid my back is a little too old to sleep on a sofa,” she demurred.

  “Like I’d ever make you sleep on the couch,” Addison scoffed. “My bed is big enough for two.”

  There was a rogue curl tickling the very edge of Addison’s right eye, and Mallory sighed as she reached up to brush it away. Addison’s breath hitched, and her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into the touch. Unable to resist, Mallory dragged the pad of her thumb over the curve of Addison’s cheek as she gently cradled her jaw. It was an undeniably intimate hold, and her heart leapt into her throat at the way Addison’s lips parted ever so slightly in response. Addison was always beautiful, but never so much as she was in this moment, and it was all she could do not to lean in and kiss her.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Mallory whispered. And then, because she was determined to be better than she had in the past, she found the courage to add, “After everything with Gwen, I was determined to focus on my career and my friends and had convinced myself that I didn’t need or want anything else. Anyone else. But then I met you and…” She sighed as she focused on the way her thumb looked as she caressed Addison’s cheek. “You are talented and beautiful and so completely unfairly charming”—she smiled when Addison laughed softly at that—“and I just can’t resist you.”

  Addison blinked her eyes open and whispered, “Oh, Mal…”

  “And I hope I haven’t completely misread the situation and made things—”

  Addison silenced her with a finger to the lips as she shook her head. “You aren’t misreading anything. I’ve been flirting with you pretty much non-stop from our first rehearsal.” She took Mallory’s free hand and cradled it against her chest as her expression softened. “And now I feel like I should explain that I didn’t ask you to stay because I’m attracted to you. I asked because it’s late and you’re tired and, no matter what happens from here, I’m your friend, and I hate the idea of you hurting.”

  Mallory dipped her head to rest her forehead against Addison’s. “Thank you, darling,” she breathed.

  “Always,” Addison promised through a yawn. “Sorry.”

  “It’s late,” Mallory pointed out, though she made no effort to move.

  Addison n
odded, and Mallory smiled at the way she did not pull away either. “My offer still stands, Mal. Stay here tonight. I’ll find you some sweats, and we’ll just sleep.”

  And, oh, Mallory knew that she should decline the invitation. That she should order a taxi and gather her things and go, but after too many months of struggling to do every damn thing and two-and-a-half months fighting what was happening here with Addison, she just didn’t have the energy to do it anymore.

  But, more than that, she didn’t want to fight it anymore.

  Not when this felt so goddamn right.

  “If I wake up to find you cuddling me…” she mock warned.

  “You’ll shut up and like it,” Addison sassed with a playful wink.

  “Yes, I imagine I will,” Mallory admitted softly.

  Addison sighed and pulled away to brush the softest of kisses against Mallory’s cheek that was gentle and accepting and held no ulterior motives. “I can keep my hands to myself for as long as you need me to, Mal. I promise. I just… I’m glad we’re not dancing around this anymore,” she whispered as she took Mallory’s hand from her cheek and laced their fingers together. “Is this okay?”

  Mallory looked down at their joined hands and smiled when she looked back into Addison’s hopeful brown eyes. “Yes, darling. It’s more than okay.”

  “I’m glad.” Addison beamed as she squeezed Mallory’s hand. “So, let’s go find you something to sleep in…”

  If the standing-room-only underground train wasn’t enough to remind Mallory of just why she loved her work schedule, the veritable throng of people queued to place their order at Higher Ground Tuesday morning would have done it.

  As it turned out, forty-five minutes made a serious difference in the morning.

  She should have expected as much, to be honest, but she had been so distracted by the incredibly vivid dream she’d been having about Addison that her alarm had rudely interrupted that trivial things like rush-hour commuters and busier-than-usual coffee shops hadn’t even crossed her mind. Of course, the dream was almost to be expected after she had woken up Sunday morning to find that, despite her playful warning to Addison about cuddling, she was the one who had sought the contact and comfort of a warm body during the night.

  And, oh, Addison had just loved teasing her about that over the lazy brunch they’d taken at a café near the opera house before she’d been forced to run home to change for Sunday afternoon’s performance at the Barbican.

  For as much as she wished Addison would have just pretended the whole thing never happened, she couldn’t help but be thankful for the playful teasing that gently assured her that nothing had changed between them. Excluding the cuddling, that is. Or, she guessed, the more frequent hand-holding.

  But otherwise, everything was the same.

  They had worked their asses off in the studio the day before and enjoyed a quiet dinner at Addison’s place following their massages, and though they lingered longer in their goodbye than they had in the past, she eventually took her leave with only a drawn-out hug exchanged.

  In a way, it was embarrassing to be such a mess that even after all their confessions Saturday night that she was keeping them stuck in place, but she could not deny that she was glad—and more than a little touched—that Addison seemed perfectly content to wait for her.

  “Earth to Mal,” a laughing voice interrupted her reverie, and Mallory startled when she realized that she had somehow worked her way to the front of the queue while she’d been thinking about Addison.

  “Apologies, darling,” she murmured as she smiled at Lena.

  “You’re fine. Media day today, yeah?”

  Mallory nodded. “You would think starting the day an hour earlier wouldn’t be so much trouble, but…”

  “I’m sure you had a late night,” Lena replied with a kind smile. “I mean, Addy was looking quite rough herself, so I imagine Nina is in top form as always, yeah?”

  “Addy was in already?” Mallory tried her best not to look disappointed that she had missed her. She had been hoping that she would run into her here and then they could make their way over to the opera house together.

  “Yup.” Lena looked pointedly toward the back of the shop. “She even ordered you your usual before she went and stole your spot.”

  Mallory bit her lip to try to contain her smile and, judging by the way Lena smirked at her, failed miserably at it. “Hush, you.”

  Lena’s smirk widened as she waggled her eyebrows. “I take it the partnership is going well?”

  Mallory took a deep breath and let it go slowly. “It is. Far better than I’d ever imagined, if I’m to be honest.”

  “Good.” Lena’s smirk softened to a genuine smile as she reached across the counter to give Mallory’s wrist a light squeeze. “I’m glad for you. And her. I love you both, so it’s…”

  “Very new,” Mallory shared softly. “Very, very new and, quite frankly, more than a little scary. You know, after everything…” She waved a hand in a you know type gesture. She’d only told Lena about the whole Gwen thing when they went to dinner before she’d left to go on tour with the LSO earlier that summer. Had it not been for her lingering foul mood and Lena’s kindness—and more than a little bit of wine—she might have never shared that part of her life with her, but it had been cathartic. Besides Will and Siobhan, Lena was the first person she had shared it all with, and as she looked back at it now, she wondered if that night of vulnerability was what started her on this path to healing.

  Lena nodded. “Well, I’m happy for you. And her, because I honestly can’t think of anyone better suited for either of you. And I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” She tilted her head toward Addison. “Now, go get your girl, Collingswood. I’ll have Clark bring your coffee and scone out in a minute. And I’ll put the coffee in a to-go cup, just in case. Media day is a slog, you might want to ration out the caffeine.”

  Mallory nodded and murmured, “Cheers, Lena.”

  She eased her way past a trio of suits gathered around the carry-out end of the counter, and her stomach did a little flip when she saw Addison watching her with soft eyes and a warm smile. The thrill that rippled through her as their gazes locked was precisely the thing that she found so frightening, because the last person to make her feel like this was Gwen—and she was absolutely terrified of doing something that would make Addison stop looking at her like that.

  She honestly didn’t know if she had it in herself to recover from one more heartbreak.

  And she shouldn’t allow herself to want this but, oh, she loved the way Addison smiled at her like she was now, so open and happy and awed. It made her feel special and beautiful and desired and, despite her fear and her worry and her concerns, brave. Brave enough to begin to push back against the fear.

  Brave enough to want a happy ending of her own.

  Even if she wasn’t quite convinced she was ready for it yet.

  Once she was close enough that she wouldn’t have to raise her voice to be heard, she teased, “Stealing my table now, are you?”

  “Ah, well, you know, anything to get your attention,” Addison drawled.

  Mallory laughed as she laid her things on the floor beside the table and lowered herself into the chair opposite Addison. “I appreciate the effort, darling, but all you have to do is exist to do that.” It was meant to be a joke, but there was far too much truth in the comment as well because she was always, always aware of Addison whenever she was near, and that softened what was meant to be a playful quip into a revealing confession.

  Addison blinked as a light blush crept over her cheeks. “You too,” she whispered as she looked up through her eyelashes.

  Mallory took a deep breath as she looked back at Addison, who was watching her over her coffee cup. Her heart skipped a beat as Addison’s gaze seemed to bore into her very soul, making her feel like she was flying and falling at the same time, and murmured, “I’m so very glad.”

  She knew it wasn’t necessary to comment, but it
seemed important to make sure Addison knew.

  “Me too.” Addison’s lips curled in a smile around the rim of her mug as she took a sip of her coffee. “So, are you ready for this morning?” she asked as she leaned back in her chair and cradled the warm mug in her hands.

  “Not at all,” Mallory admitted with a wry shake of her head. “But I trust you’ll keep me from making a fool of myself.”

  “Well, yeah. But only because it would reflect poorly on me. I mean, what would it look like if one of The Royal Ballet’s principals had a totally inept partner?”

  “Oh, shut it,” Mallory chuckled.

  Addison laughed. “It will be fine, Mal. I promise.”

  “Your order,” Clark interrupted as he slid Mallory’s coffee and scone in front of her. “Enjoy.”

  “Ta, mate,” Mallory murmured as he backed away with a short bow and a smile. She picked up the fork that was lying next to her croissant and looked back at Addison. “How long do we have until we need to start heading over?”

  “Well, Nina said nine, so…” She picked up her phone that had been lying face-down on the table. “Maybe twenty minutes?” She shrugged and set it back down. “No real rush.”

  Mallory nodded and reached for the fork that was lying on the plate next to her croissant and began cutting into it. “Did you eat already? Would you like some of this?”

  “Yes. To both questions.” Addison smiled as she leaned forward expectantly. She hummed happily as she took the bite Mallory offered her from the fork. “That is so much better than the oatmeal and peanut butter toast I had earlier,” she sighed as she leaned back in her seat. “One of these days I’m going to have to cave and order one.”

  “You’d certainly burn it off.”