by Staci Hart
Epic, guys. Knee-shakingly, thigh-quakingly epic.
I smiled to myself, humming as I stepped onto the rug and finished drying off, fueled by the excitement of seeing Blane. I toweled off my hair as steam climbed across the glass like a curtain, and I opened the door, watching it recede almost as quickly.
I glanced over reflection at my wide eyes and sopping blond hair, catching a glimpse of the tattoo on my ribs. The watercolor vines climbed up my side, sprinkled with roses and lilies, a Tricky Evans original piece, and Rose had one to match. I smiled to myself shaking out my roots as I walked into my bedroom — maybe tonight Blane would see it for himself.
My clothes were on my bed waiting for me — a low-cut black tank and jersey booty shorts. The pink, thigh-high leg warmers would go in my bag, and a sweater and leggings would stop me from having to use my mace on the train. But I had to at least keep up the pretense of rehearsal. Felt presumptuous to show up at his studio in heels and a little black dress.
I frowned when Nadia popped into my head uninvited. I wondered how many times she’d gotten ready for him just like this. Wondered what she’d think if she knew I was on my way to meet him. At some point, everyone in the company could know. The thought upset and excited me.
It was something I needed to talk to him about eventually, but I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted everything to work itself out without any resistance. Was that too much to ask of the universe?
Probably. But I made my wish anyway and headed back into the bathroom where my phone sat next to the sink, lit up from a message I’d just gotten from my older sister, Astrid.
Hey, meet me at Habits. Just want to say hi.
I sighed and glanced at the clock — it was ten. Of course she would decide to come out tonight, not that I needed to be at Habits for her to feel at home. My big sister could look bored and starving pretty much anywhere, a trick of the modeling trade, I supposed. She’d always been quiet and a little judgy, but modeling had kicked her aloofness up to the next level.
Everyone knew her, though I didn’t know if they’d hang out with her if it weren’t for me, other than Cooper. They dated, or something — I’m not sure what you’d actually call it. Basically, they hooked up and took each other to events they needed arm candy and paparazzi bait for. It was a relationship of convenience, one that was necessary in their social circle. The comfort of a person who they knew was safe in a world where someone was always trying to take advantage of them.
I texted her back. Sure, can’t stay long. Got a date.
Oh, is that what you’re calling it? Bastian told me about Blaney.
So much for the vault. I scowled. You’re the worst, Astrid. And don’t call him Blaney.
Don’t get your leotard in a bunch. Come on, I’ll buy you a water on the rocks before your ‘date.’
You’re too generous. See you in a few.
I tossed my phone, and it hit the counter a little harder than I meant to. I didn’t get why everyone was giving me crap about Blane. Okay, I guess it wasn’t everyone, but between Rose, West, and now Astrid, I’d had it. I never commented on their dates. Maybe I used to make fun of West’s ex, but that chick was about as interesting as a bag of wet hair. He could do so much better. The guy was gorgeous and smart, funny, driven. And with manners. A total catch. If he wasn’t my best friend, I’d be all over that.
In fact, the first time I met West, Rose and I were trying to get my armoire up the stairs to move me in. We’d powered that beast up two flights and were halfway up the last, but we were worn out. I felt it slip in slow motion, and then bam — there was West, tall, dark and handsome, catching it before it smashed into a trillion pieces. That was before the beard and man bun, but let me just tell you, it didn’t hinder the hotness. I’m pretty sure my undies melted on eye contact. Not gonna pretend like I wasn’t bummed when I found out he had a girlfriend, but I put him in the friend compartment, and before long I’d forgotten all about that first meeting.
Mostly.
I sighed and put on a little lip gloss, just enough mascara to keep me from looking like an albino, and a tiny bit of blush — the bare minimum amount of makeup to make me look fresh and together. Effortless. You know, like I hadn’t been thinking about the date for thirty-six hours straight or something.
I glanced at myself in the full-length mirror, tugging at my tank and inspecting my backside. Perks to being a pro ballet dancer? The body. Some dancers were never happy with the way they looked and took being thin way too far, like when they’d get that weird, pointy shoulder bone that sticks up. Two places where I drew the line on skinny — creepy shoulder bones and ankles so thin that they look like they’d snap when you’re en pointe.
People always thought it was weird when I told them that almost every ballerina I knew smoked like a chimney to suppress their appetites and exorcise the stress that came with our job. I probably would too, if I hadn’t puked my guts up at sixteen when I smoked for the first time with Jenni. We all drank too, though we had to be careful around big performances. Mostly we danced shorter shows, around thirty minutes each with a few scheduled each night, though we’d usually only dance in one. Each piece would run for several weeks on multiple nights, and then we’d cycle some out and rotate new ones in.
I didn’t smoke, but I did love to eat. As long as I had clean lines in a leotard — it was virtually impossible not to, given the number of hours I danced every day — I was happy. Once I went on a week-long hamburger bender. One glorious week full of pickles and mushrooms and bacon and cheese. And then it hit my hips, and I made the disagreeable decision to only have one burger a month. Giving them up completely just wasn’t an option.
Everybody thinks ballet dancers are a bunch of uptight dance robots, but the truth is that unless we had something big coming, we led pretty normal lives for people in our twenties. Besides the sixty-plus-hour work weeks.
I walked through the apartment, slipped on my flats, and hung my bag on my shoulder, and within a minute, I was heading toward Habits in the cool spring evening, trying not to walk too fast and failing. I know I looked like a woman on a mission, but I couldn’t help it — I reached the front door in no time, pulling it open with a whoosh before blowing inside.
Everyone sat at the bar except Astrid. I cursed her, reaching for my phone to bang out a text. I’m here, where are you?
Almost there.
You said you were here!
No, I didn’t. I said for you to meet me there. Read the text back, betch.
I scrolled back through. She was right. Well, hurry up. You have ten minutes!
Sir, yes, sir!
I huffed and stuffed my phone back in my bag. Astrid couldn’t be on time to save her life. Seriously. If she were in a movie where she had to show up at midnight with the money, the bad guy would totally blow up the building just to prove he wasn’t bluffing.
Everyone was lined up at the bar, and their faces swung around when I approached. “Hey, guys.” I took a seat next to West.
Rose raised an eyebrow at me. “What are you doing here? I thought you had a ‘date?’” She made air quotes with her fingers.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I do have a date, but Astrid said she was coming and wanted to say hi.”
Patrick groaned.
“I know, I know,” I said as I took off my bag. “I just hope she hustles. I’m leaving in ten minutes either way.”
Rose set a glass of water in front of me. “What are you guys doing tonight?”
“Oh, you know, just a little rehearsal.” I wiggled my eyebrows.
West gave me a look. “Has he ever taken you on a proper date?”
I gave him a look of my own. “No, but we’re a little busy.”
One dark eyebrow raised. “Not busy enough to stop you from ‘rehearsing,’ it would seem.”
I gaped dramatically. “Are you judging me, Weston Williams?”
He picked up his beer, feigning indifference, that liar. “Not at all, just observing.”
He took a drink.
I sniffed and picked up my water.
Rose just smiled at me from across the bar. “Oh, don’t let LumberWest get to you. I think his bun’s too tight today.”
I laughed, and West rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha, Rosie.”
“Really, though,” she continued, trying to rally me, “as long as you’re happy, we’re happy for you.”
I smiled back even though the seemingly harmless statement shook me up a little. Did Blane make me happy? I mean, I was giddy and overwhelmed, was that the same thing? It was too soon to tell. Maybe after tonight I’d know for sure.
“Thanks.” I nudged West in the arm, eager to change the subject. “Maggie flies in tomorrow. Exciting!”
West leaned on the bar and smiled at the mention of his sister as Cooper and Patrick chatted and Rose made a lap down the bar. I looked West over — dark hair tied back, the small strands curling against his neck and that one piece in the front that would never stay put. His eyes were so blue, with the longest lashes, and I shifted, feeling a little strange. My gaze caught on his bicep where his T-shirt stretched around his arm, then followed the lines of his tattooed sleeve, the dark swirling words that wrapped around pages of books that turned into origami cranes and flew away.
I blinked and met his eyes again when he spoke.
“It’ll be good to have Maggie close by, especially after everything that happened in Jackson. She needs a fresh start.”
“New York is one of the best places for that. We’ll make her forget all about that jerkburger.”
He smiled wider from behind his dark beard. “I’m sure you will. Getting away from home will be the best thing that ever happened to her. You two ready for another roommate?”
“We are. I made her some space in the bathroom, and our room is set. Hopefully she likes everything.”
“Nervous about sharing a room?”
“Nah. If I could survive Astrid through junior high, Maggie will be a piece of cake.” I pulled out my phone again and glanced at the time. “Ugh. She’s such a pain in the ass.”
“In a hurry, Lil?” Astrid said from behind me, completely unapologetic.
I turned in my seat and rolled my eyes at her. “Said the girl who’s too busy being popular to be bothered with such things as punctuality.”
Astrid took off her black designer bag, and I cringed when she set it on the sticky bar top. That bag cost more than three months of my rent. She sat on the other side of me and crossed her long, skinny legs. Somehow she made black jeans, a white tee, and a leather jacket look like couture. As far as I knew, they could have been.
“I love you too, little sister.” She smiled and turned to the bar. “Hey, Rose. Can I get a vodka soda?”
“No prob, Astrid. What’s new?”
She ran her fingers through her blond hair. “I have a shoot for Barney’s tomorrow, so it’s the old liquid diet until tomorrow night.” She held up the glass that Rose passed her and shook the contents.
“That’s so bad for you, Astrid.” I shook my head, openly judging her. It was my sisterly right. “You can’t just starve yourself.”
Astrid took a sip. “Remind me about that after you’ve been on a forty-foot billboard in Times Square.”
Cooper spun his seat around and leaned back against the bar to address us. “While I’ve got you all here, I’m on the list for Noir Saturday night, want to go?”
Rose lit up. “Oh, man. Everybody’s talking about that place. I heard it’s like Gatsby meets Blade Runner.”
West perked up at that. “Sounds interesting. It’s hard to get into?”
Cooper’s lips bent in that smarmy half-smile he wore so often. “For most people.”
Astrid looked unimpressed. “Gretchen went last week. Said they do an aerial show every hour with dancers they snagged from Cirque du Soleil.”
Rose beamed. “I’m down. I think I can get Shelby to cover my shift. Come on, Lil. You have to come.”
It really did sound fun, but it also sounded like a long ass day of rehearsals and a show on Sunday. “I don’t know, guys. I’ve got Serenade on Saturday and rehearsal all day Sunday.”
“Ugh,” Rose groaned. “This isn’t an opportunity you’ll have again any time soon.”
I shrugged. “I’d rather sleep than wear heels.”
She made a puppy dog face.
I sighed. “I’ll think about it.”
Rose smiled like she knew she had me. “I’ll take that. I swear I won’t get you wasted.”
Cooper looked down the line. “West? Tricky?”
I didn’t miss Patrick watching Rose. “Yeah, I’m in.”
But West shook his head. “I don’t know. Sounds like a good time, but I’ve gotta see where I’m at with work.”
“Astrid?” Cooper’s brow was up, and I couldn’t tell if he really wanted her to go or was asking out of obligation.
“Sounds like a good time.”
“Good. I’ll reserve a table, then. And maybe we can convince Mom and Dad here to come with us.”
Astrid smirked. “I’ll work on Lily. You work on West.”
He smirked back at her. “Deal.”
Cooper leaned over to talk to Patrick as Rose made another trip down the bar, and Astrid took the opportunity to turn to me, eyeing me like she knew a thing or two. “So, Blaney, huh?”
I smiled despite the fact that she used the nickname again. Rose snickered from a few feet away as she poured a drink, but I didn’t care. I hunched toward my sister, feeling like a teenager. “I know, right? I couldn’t even believe it. Blane Baker.” I shook my head, awestruck all over again.
“How did that even happen?”
“It started when we found out we were partnered for Swan Lake. He and Nadia broke up like a week later, and he turned the charm up to eleven.” I’d dropped my voice, feeling like West was listening from behind me. “He asked me to rehearse with him, which I was hoping was code for something. It totally was.” I giggled.
Astrid looked amused. “Look at you.”
“I know!” Excitement washed over me again. “It’s so crazy. I’ve wanted him forever, and now we’re seeing each other.”
“Naked,” she leaned in, smiling as Rose leaned across the bar to get her head in the quiet conversation.
I laughed. “God. I don’t know how to handle having something I’ve idealized for so long.”
Astrid’s smile faded into something softer. “Well, nothing’s what it seems. Modeling isn’t what I imagined it would be. The reality of being a professional dancer isn’t what you pictured when you were a little girl. When you look behind the curtain after dreaming about something for that long, there’s a lot of room for disappointment. You never find exactly what you were looking for. So just be careful, okay?”
And that right there was one of the many reasons why my sister was amazing. “Thanks, Astrid. I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”
“And your drawers, while you’re at it,” Rose said with a laugh, a little louder than I would have liked.
I threw a paper coaster at her. “I’m not wearing any, Nosy Rosie.”
I didn’t realize everyone was listening until they all laughed — everyone except West, who gave me a look I couldn’t quite place, one that made me feel like I owed him an explanation. But I shook off the thought and stood, hanging my bag on my shoulder. “Anyway, I’ve got to run. Have fun, guys.” I kissed Astrid on the cheek. “Thanks, Astrid.”
“Any time. Don’t get into any trouble.”
I waggled my brows. “No promises. Bye, guys.”
A chorus of goodbyes washed over me, but my brain was already rolling toward Blane and what I hoped would be the bang of the decade.
West
I watched Lily walk away as annoyance twisted around in my guts like snakes, though I couldn’t figure out why. I’d only caught bits and pieces of the conversation, straining to hear what she was saying while trying to look inconspicuous. It wasn’t easy.
I didn’t
like that she was worked up again, and hearing her whispering about this Blane guy irritated me. I tried to ignore the fact she didn’t have panties on.
My mind hung on the whole thing like a snag in a sweater that I couldn’t leave alone. I wanted to know what made this guy so special that she’d break her long-held oath of staying single for him.
Astrid shook her head as she moved a seat closer to me. “I don’t know about all of this.”
My brow dropped, and Rose shot her a look. I was so anxious to get the dirt that I took the opening without a second thought. “You mean Blane?”
Astrid leaned on the bar, the quintessential supermodel. She and Lily looked a lot alike — tall and blond, with long arms and legs, small faces and big, almond-shaped blue eyes. Astrid usually had an air of apathy about her, but it was times like this when I knew it was a show.
“Yup, good old Blaney Baker.” The words were heavy with cynicism, and as she took a drink, I felt my heart sink.
“What’s the deal with him?” I asked, and Patrick leaned forward to try to listen. I moved my stool back so he and Cooper could hear.
“You guys know about Nadia, right?”
We all grumbled our assent.
“Right. So she’s always been a bit ahead of Lily in the company, until now. Now Lil’s getting the roles Nadia has or wants, since I guess the Master in Chief of the company likes Lily paired with Blane. Blane who just dumped Nadia, maybe for Lily.”
Something flared in my chest — jealousy? I pushed the thought away, telling myself I was just worried for her welfare.
“So part of the issue is Nadia, but the rest is that Blane is a total douchebag.”
“How do you know?” Patrick asked in challenge. “You don’t know the guy personally, do you?”
“No, but Sebastian Ames and I are besties, and he’s been in the company with them since they were at SAB. The stories I’ve heard over mimosas and eggs sardou would make your head spin. Like Blane thinks Jager Bombs are ‘tight,’ and Bastian said he uses this special lotion made for strippers that’s like part baby oil, part self-tanner. And Nadia is like next-level. One time, she soaked a sock in fish oil and stuck it in the bottom of one dancer’s bag for flirting with Blane. Or another time when she and Blane broke up, she made a fake Craigslist ad for ‘male company’ with his phone number on it. The instructions said to only call between nine at night and six in the morning, no voicemails. I’m telling you guys, this has the potential to blow up in Lily’s face.”