by E. K. Blair
Walking upstairs, I step into the bedroom and look at the only love I ever want to know, curled up in my sheets. She’s peaceful and quiet as she sleeps. She needs this after the emotional day she’s had. We spent hours in this bed, hashing everything out, filling in all the gaps, and settling all the questions. But it needed to happen, and finally, for the first time, everything feels whole.
Candace and I finally drag ourselves downstairs for some much needed coffee after making love all morning. I’ll never get my fill of her, and I made sure she knew that.
She’s a little needy this morning, but I like that. I’ve missed that—her need to have me close. It’s to be expected with everything going on, so I hold her hand as we walk downstairs and into the kitchen.
“All I have is milk, babe. We’ll have to stop by the store to get you your creamer and stock up on groceries.”
“When did you get this?” she questions, and when I look over to her, she’s checking out the cappuccino machine.
“My mom. She got it for my birthday.”
“Birthday?”
Grabbing the milk to pour into her coffee, I say, “Yeah.”
“When was your birthday?” she asks as I hand her the mug and head over to the couch.
“Last month. May nineteenth.”
“Oh,” she says with a twinge of sadness.
“Babe, don’t let it bother you. It’s really not a big deal.”
Taking her eyes off of her mug, she looks up at me as she rests her back against the arm of the couch and says, “It does bother me. I feel like I’ve missed so much time with you.”
“You weren’t missing much. Nothing happened. Everything was literally in slow motion the whole time.”
“I still feel bad that I wasn’t here for your birthday.”
Setting my coffee down on the end table, I take hers as well, setting it aside as I pull her over to me and fold her in my arms. “None of that matters, so just forget it, okay?”
“I can’t just forget it.”
“Would it make you feel better if I told you that I was with you on my birthday?”
She pops her head up and stares at me with question. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you the night before,” I tell her. “I went to see you dance.”
“You were there?”
“Nothing would have kept me from seeing you that night,” I tell her and then kiss her forehead. “You were amazing. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”
“I didn’t think you were there. I saw your mom afterward, but I had no clue.”
“You saw my mom?”
“Yeah. I ran into her as I was leaving.”
“She never told me that,” I say, but then remember telling my mom that we weren’t going to mention Candace again. I never gave her a chance to tell me.
“I felt awful.”
“Why? What did she say?”
“All the right things, but it was hard to see her because I was missing her. She drove all that way and then I told her that I needed space. It just hurt too much,” she explains.
“I know she wasn’t expecting anything. She just really wanted to see you dance. I told her not to come, but she insisted.”
“I miss her,” she says as she rests her head on my shoulder. “I feel like I should apologize or something.”
“For what?” I ask with a light chuckle. “You didn’t do anything, babe. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me, so stop thinking that you did something wrong, ‘cause you didn’t.”
She nods her head, unconvinced, but I don’t push. Instead, I offer, “Why don’t we go visit her in a couple of weeks for Fourth of July weekend?”
Her smile shows off her dimple when she says, “I’d like that.”
“I’ll give her a call later today.”
“Speaking of calls, I need to call Kimber. My car is at her parents’ house. We should probably go pick it up today.”
“I’m gonna go grab a shower, so why don’t you call her, and we can pick it up after we go to the airport to get your bags.”
“I don’t have any clothes,” she tells me. “Maybe Jase can bring me some. Crap!”
“What?”
“I was supposed to call Jase when I got to New York last night. He doesn’t know I’m here,” she panics.
“He does. I talked to him yesterday when you were napping. I just forgot to tell you.”
“You talked to him? What did he say?”
Giving her a smirk, I tell her, “He said he was glad you made the right choice.”
She pokes me in the ribs as she whines, “No he didn’t.”
“I swear, he did,” I laugh and then stand up. “Make your phone calls. I’m gonna go get ready.”
Once I’m out of the shower and dressed, Candace walks into the room and says, “Jase is on his way.”
“Did you get in touch with Kimber?”
Flopping down on the bed, she says, “Yeah. Her parents aren’t home, but she gave me the code to the garage,” in a dull voice.
Walking over to the bed, I look down at her and ask, “What’s wrong?”
“She just doesn’t get it.”
“Get what?”
Candace sits up and tells me, “She said that I was throwing everything away. She was annoyed when I told her I wasn’t gonna move back in with her. It’s just hard because she doesn’t know you. All she saw was how upset I was when we weren’t together. She knows that you kept that secret from me, but she doesn’t know how far I’ve come this year and that it was mostly because of you. She never saw how bad it was, and now all she has is this tainted idea of you.”
“Maybe she just needs time to get to know us together.”
“But I feel like she doesn’t even know me. We used to be close, but so much has happened this year, and she wasn’t around,” she says. “I’m just . . .” She drops her head when she admits, “I’m not the same person. I wish I could be, but I’m just not.”
“That’s not a bad thing like I know you’re thinking it is. The cause of it is the only thing that’s bad. But it’s like I told you before, there isn’t a damn thing about who you are now that you should be ashamed of. You’re perfect to me,” I tell her, and I can see that she still struggles with this concept, but I’ll keep reminding her every day if I have to.
We’re interrupted when the doorbell rings, and Candace jumps off the bed, saying, “Jase is here,” as she flies down the stairs.
When I make it to the top of the stairs, she is already in his arms. I smile at the sight of her as I start making my way down.
“So what the hell happened after I dropped you off?” he asks her as I take the bag out of his hand and set it by the stairs.
“I realized that all my worries about leaving were more about my fears of losing Ryan than they were of moving to New York,” she tells him as she sits on the couch, and I walk over to join her.
“So now what?” he asks as he takes a seat in the chair.
“I’m gonna sign with PNB on Monday.”
“So, no New York?”
“Not right now,” she says. “I feel like I need more time here, where I’m comfortable. I just want to put the past few months behind me and have things settled again.”
“You talk to Kimber?”
“A little bit ago. She didn’t seem happy that I was moving in here,” Candace responds as I slip my arm around her.
“I think she just feels left out of everything. All of us have been through a lot, and she wasn’t around. And let’s face it, she has a skewed perception of Ryan, and she barely even knows Mark. And now Mark and I are about to move in together, and you and Ryan are too. She’s just kinda out of the loop.”
“You’re moving in with Mark?” I ask, having had no clue, and both Candace and Jase give me a look as if I should already know this. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I thought you knew,” Jase says.
“How would I have known if you didn’t tell me?”
“Sorry, I guess with everything going on, I just never brought it up,” he says.
“That’s great, man. I just didn’t know, that’s all.”
Candace gives me a smile and then turns back to Jase and says, “Anyways, I’m just not really sure where we stand.”
“I suggested that maybe we should all get together so Kimber can get to know me. You and Mark should be there too, though,” I tell him.
“That’s probably the best thing to do at this point,” Jase says as he looks to Candace.
“Okay, then. I’ll call her later and see when she’s free.”
Jase leans back in the chair and lets out a long breath, saying, “I’m relieved, girl.”
She lets out a giggle when she asks, “Why?”
“Because I hated the thought of not having you here. I’ve been a mess, and Mark has been stuck dealing with me.”
“Mark isn’t stuck. He loves you.”
“Still. I’m just glad that you’re staying and that you’re happy.”
Candace looks over to me and then back to Jase, saying, “Me too.”
After picking up her car and getting her luggage at the airport, we stopped by the storage unit Candace had rented to keep all the stuff that she wouldn’t have had room for in her apartment in New York. She doesn’t need much since I have everything she could possibly want already at my place, but we picked up a couple of boxes, and now we are shifting things in my room so that all of her belongings have a place.
She’s in the closet, hanging up her clothes, when I hear, “Ryan!”
Rushing in, I see her sitting on the floor, pulling out the canvas from behind the clothes where I had been hiding it.
When she looks up at me, she says, “I thought someone bought this.”
I lean against the doorframe and tell her, “It was me. I bought it.”
As she shakes her head, I say, “Did you really think I would let that hang in anyone’s house but my own?”
“But why is it shoved back here?”
Walking over, I sit down next to her and look at the picture that I haven’t seen in a long time and say, “Because it hurt too much to look at. It only reminded me of everything I lost.” I look at her and slide the picture back against the wall before I kiss her, leaning into her as she lowers herself to the floor.
Grabbing on to my face, she pushes me back slightly when she says, “I can’t believe you bought it.”
I press my lips into hers, dipping my tongue in to caress hers as she fists my hair in her hands. Our lips move slowly together, as she pulls my weight wholly on top of her. She keeps me close, running her hands underneath my shirt and up my back. We move slowly as we lie on the floor of the closet, her clothes strewn everywhere in the midst of combining our belongings. Making this place ours.
We spend the rest of the evening situating her things, but before it gets too late, I tell Candace, “I’m gonna give my mom a call.”
She acknowledges me as she continues to move things around, and I take a seat in the chair by the window while I call.
“Hey, Mom.”
“How are you?”
“Actually, I’m really good,” I tell her, and when I turn, I catch Candace grabbing her pajamas as she mouths to me, ‘I’m gonna take a shower.’
I give her a nod as my mom says, “Well, that’s good to hear.”
“I have some news I think you’ll like,” I goad and she falls into it, saying, “Don’t keep me in the dark. Tell me.”
“Candace is back. She’s moving in with me.”
“What? How did that happen?” she asks in total shock.
“She showed up here yesterday, and we talked everything out.”
“And she’s moving in?”
“She is moved in,” I clarify as I look at all of her things scattered around the room.
“That was quick.”
“It feels like it took forever,” I joke.
“You know what I mean,” she says. “How is she?”
“Good. I think we’re just both so worn out, but I was calling to see what your plans were for the Fourth.”
“No plans really. Why?”
“Candace and I want to come down for a few days. I know she misses you.”
“Of course,” she exclaims. “I miss her too. Is she around for me to talk to?”
“She’s in the shower, but I’ll have her give you a call tomorrow.”
“So . . . how are you feeling about all of this?” she asks in a more serious tone.
“Like this was how it was always supposed to be. Having her here with me. I felt completely lost without her, and now it just feels right again.”
“I’m so happy for you, dear. For both of you.”
When I hear the water shut off, I say, “Thanks, Mom. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Love you.”
“You too.”
I walk over and grab her empty luggage off the bed and take it downstairs to store it in the guest bedroom closet before heading back upstairs. Slipping into bed, I don’t have to wait too long before Candace comes out and crawls under the sheets with me.
As she lets out a heavy sigh, she says, “I’m exhausted.”
“It was a long day, huh?”
“Too long,” she says with a breathy laugh.
“So, my mom said we could come out for a visit. She’s anxious to see you. I told her you would call tomorrow.”
“Oh . . . umm . . .”
Seeing the hesitation on her face, I ask, “What?”
She inches down and lays her head on the pillow, and I do the same as we face each other.
Reading her eyes, I ask, “What’s going on?”
“It didn’t feel weird to me until you called her.”
“Is that why you rushed in to take a shower?”
I watch as her eyes drop and I ask, “Tell me what makes this feel weird?”
She moves her eyes up to mine when she says, “Because she knows.”
“Knows what?”
“What you told her about what happened . . . to me.”
Pulling her in close, I tell her, “Please don’t let it make you feel weird. You know a lot of her secrets too, babe.”
“But she doesn’t know that. It’s awkward because I’m aware that she knows this about me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I hate that people know,” she mumbles as she rests her forehead against my chest while I run my hand down her back.
Leaning down, I kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry I told her, I—”
She cuts me off, looking up at me and saying, “Don’t be sorry. I’m not mad about it, just embarrassed.” She quickly moves her fingers to my mouth to keep me from talking, adding, “And I know you’re gonna tell me to not be embarrassed, but there’s no way around it. I just am.”
I kiss her fingers and then take her hand, holding it against me. “She loves you. She has her own past that I know is embarrassing to her. She never wanted anyone to know either. That’s all I’m gonna say,” I tell her lightly and then put an end to all of the talking for some much needed kissing.
“She’s living with you?” Max questions before laughing and saying, “This from the guy who once gave me shit for Traci moving in with me.”
“Go ahead, man. Get your laughs in, but I don’t give a shit.”
“I know you don’t,” he says. “I’m really happy for you. I was getting tired of your broody side.”
Packing up my things, I let out a chuckle when I say, “Me too.”
“You guys should come over. I know Traci would like the company. She’s going a little crazy being at home every day.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll talk to Candace and call you. I gotta run though. She signed all of her contracts today with that ballet company, and I wanna be there when she gets home,” I tell him as I start heading out.
“See ya.”
When I get back to the loft, Candace’s car is already there,
and when I walk in, she’s finishing up a phone call. I don’t wait as I go to her and pull her in for a hug, lifting her off the floor.
“Okay, thanks. I’ll see you then,” she says and then hangs up before kissing me.
“How did everything go?” I ask when I set her down.
“Good. I start tomorrow.”
“That soon?”
Smiling at me, she says, “Yeah. Auditions for the first performance run are in August.”
“You’re gonna have to explain how all this works, babe, because I don’t know the first thing about what your job is going to look like.”
We walk over to take a seat in the living room, and I reach out to set her on my lap as she explains, “Okay, so basically a season runs from September to June. I’ll have typical rehearsals throughout the week with about five to seven performance runs that I’ll have to audition for. Performance runs are around two weeks long with matinees and evening shows. Normally they have a two-month run around the holidays, but they cast two dancers for each role to divide up the schedule. So I’ll have some time off for Christmas, hopefully.”
“You seem excited.”
“I am, but I’m mostly nervous. Most of these girls have done their apprenticeships up there and already know each other. I’m the only one coming from a university,” she tells me.
“You’ll be fine,” I assure her. “I’m so happy for you, babe.”
I kiss her dimple when she smiles, and then ask, “Who were you talking to when I came in?”
“Oh,” she says as she sits up, looking a little flustered. “Um, that was Dr. Christman, my therapist. I needed to get back on her schedule. But . . . umm . . .”
“What is it?” I ask when she starts hesitating.
“Well, I told her what happened with the whole New York thing and moving in with you. She suggested that maybe you could come in with me for my next appointment, but you can say no,” she says timidly, avoiding my eyes.
“Why would I say no?” I question. I’ve never done the whole therapy thing, but for her, I’d do anything.
“Because it’s . . .”
“Embarrassing,” I answer for her.
“I know you’re sick of hearing that, but I can’t help it.”
“I’m not sick of hearing it, babe. I get it. You just tell me when, and I’ll be there,” I say, trying not to make too big of a deal about it for her.