By 7:00 PM, I ordered room service. My appetite was iffy, but I figured why not, charging it to the room. So I went all out: strawberry salad, filet mignon, steamed asparagus, and crème brulee, all en route to my room. I didn’t know if I’d be able to eat, but I had to do something that involved action. Because I felt like I was going to die in this room.
Tap, tap, tap came the knock at 7:10 PM, and I snapped up, tugging at my hem.
Panic struck and I breathed through it, preparing for another performance.
Was it him or room service?
A few seconds ticked by and bang, bang, bang the knock came again, this time more insistent.
What would happen if I didn’t answer? I could hide in the bathroom. I could step out on the small balcony and climb down the fire escape. But there was no fire escape. Heck, this wasn’t some ratty motel. It was the Bellagio.
Yes, there was no rewinding. I put one foot in front of the other.
I opened the door slowly, adrenaline spiking.
The world stood still.
I took Cuba in, his shoulders slumped against the door frame as if he were exhausted, his hair tousled. His eyes pinned me, making me freeze, making the hair rise on my arms, my nape, and into my scalp. I stopped breathing, staring at my Greek god, at the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. He blinked those long, dark lashes as he stared at me, as if he couldn’t believe I was there. Ditto.
“What? How—”
He came at me full throttle and wrapped me in his arms. I squeezed my eyes tight, letting the warmth of him seep into me.
Was this a dream?
I pulled back. “You have to go, Cuba. Please.”
He stalked right past me into the room. “Not leaving.”
Just no. I couldn’t bear it if he saw me like this again. “Leave—”
“He’s not coming,” he said.
Elation hit but then I blanched, my head shaking. What had he done? “Why?”
He sighed. “Because I went to see Alexander. I took care of it for you. And before you say one word, before you go off on me, let me tell you something. I love you. I have for over a year. I loved you last year when I told you so. I loved you on the day we became locker mates this year even though I hid it. I loved you when I was with other girls. I loved you when you dated that ballet dancer dude. I loved you when you were with Spider. And…listen to me good…I loved you at The Dorchester. I have never stopped loving you, not one single day. And I never tried to fool myself that I didn’t. I may have lied to you, but I never lied to myself. I walked a thin line every day I came to school because every single minute you were in my eyesight, I was lost. But I’d convinced myself to let you go. And you know why. But, I want you to know that this whole year, I’ve spent a lot of time growing up and thinking and figuring out what I’m made of.” He took a breath. “And I know it’s a damn mess because I helped Emma. It muddied things up for me and you, but I couldn’t let her deal with her family alone.”
Emma? What?
He sighed. “But, I don’t know, somehow, my hope came back, but it’s not complete. You’re a light I need. Like a thousand fucking suns.”
My mouth parted, not understanding part of what he’d said. I replayed his words. Emma and helping? Did that mean…
Even if he did have a baby with her, I’d still love him.
“Is the baby yours?”
“No,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small smile at my confusion.
What?
Then who? Did I care?
And…whoosh. Relief hit as that yucky feeling of him tied to Emma disappeared. Joy washed over me, and I wanted to cry out and hug him, but…
“Are you glad?” came out of my mouth.
His eyes went low. “I want kids with you, Dovey. No one else.”
“But you were with her. You—”
“The last time was four months ago and both of us loved different people. Helping her helped me. She needed someone to go to her parents with her. And when she told the two guys who might be the father.”
Oh. Wait, two?
“Sebastian?”
He shrugged. “He and Matt are both getting tested for paternity.”
I’d really missed the boat on that one although I’d seen the clues. Sebastian’s long looks at Emma, his insistence Cuba wasn’t with her.
And then Cuba. I got it. He’d acted cagey about Emma to make up for past sins.
He took a step closer to me, the lines of his face resolute. “And all those other girls. They’re nameless, and I sure as hell can’t picture faces. It’s always been you.” He scrubbed his jaw. “And it’s been a crazy as shit ride getting here. Spider and I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. And then I couldn’t get a flight out until tonight. It was a mess, and all I could see was you in this hotel room scared and waiting and it drove me insane. I had to see you. I had to hold you. I wanted to tell you in the barn that I loved you, but I didn’t have the guts then.”
Him and Spider? Now that was weird.
“How did you get here so fast?”
“Private jet.”
“A jet?”
“That’s what I said.” He looked smug.
“You mean, like, your dad has a jet?”
He grinned like crazy. “Dallas Mavericks do. I called dad, told him most of it, and here I am. With you.”
Oh. He’d done all that for me.
One of my hands went to his heaving chest and rested on his heart while the other traced the lines of his roses and thorns. I lay my head against him and let it all sink in. He still loved me, he wasn’t with Emma, but…
“Will you ever forgive me?” For what I must still do. But wait? Hadn’t he said he’d taken care of it? I clutched his shoulders. “How did you change his mind?”
He tipped my chin up. “I paid off your debt with the only thing I own. My car.”
“You gave him your hundred thousand dollar gift from you father?” My voice was reedy. Twenty thousand minus my night with The Man plus his car? There was something wrong with that picture.
“Easiest thing I’ve ever done,” he said, brushing lips softly against mine. “Left it at his pawn shop. And he was glad to get it.”
“But—”
His finger touched my lips. “I know you think no one can help you, but you’re not an island unto yourself. There are people who care about you. We want to help, and you’re not letting us? It hurts. It’s what a man does when he loves his girl. He buys her things, he takes her out to dinner, he pays off loansharks. Meh. All in a day’s work.”
“He knows you now,” I said, mouth dry. “What if he tries to hurt you or blackmail you?”
He pushed the hair off my face, shushing me. “He’s never going to bother any of us again. He got more than his required sum. And I may have mentioned that my dad does business with the governor of Texas.” He pursed his lips. “And I hated to throw it around, but he also plays golf with a certain ex-President who’s from Highland Park. My dad knows people in high places, Dovey. Archie Hudson can sic the federal government on anyone he wants. He’s bigger than Barinsky will ever be.”
I nodded, letting it sink in.
Barisnky was a pit-bull, but if my debt was paid, several times over, would it work? Would he leave us alone? One thing going for us was that he understood about power and those that wielded it. And he didn’t want limelight from authorities in high places. He liked his nasty hole and wanted to rule it without interruption.
My gut said it would keep him away.
“Heather-Lynn told you where I was?” I made plans to kiss her when I saw her.
He nodded.
But still it was too good to be true.
“But what I did. The thing. It’s so horr—”
“I will never in a million years be good enough for you. That’s what you need to remember. There’s nothing to forgive. You did what you had to do. You did it for Sarah. I get it. You got more guts than any football player on th
e field.” He sucked in a breath. “And if it takes me getting down on my knees for you, I will. I’ll beg you to let all your past go, and I’ll let mine go, and we can start all over again.”
My mouth quirked, remembering his bedraggled wildflowers the day he’d asked me out. “You’re good at getting on your knees.”
“I can think of a few more things to do on my knees,” he said, eyes blazing hot.
I melted into him and he kissed me heatedly, our mouths clinging.
He pulled back, searching my eyes. “Tell me you feel this too, this new beginning for us.”
“New,” I said softly, running my hands through his hair.
He rubbed my back, his hands sliding over the blue silk, but then he stopped, taking a step back to give me a once-over. “This dress reminds me of my dream. Remember?”
I nodded.
“I’m going to take this hot-as-hell dress off you, and I’m going to kiss you until you moan and beg me for more.”
“Oh? Then what?” I breathed against his lips as he unzipped the back and eased the soft fabric off my shoulders. The dress pooled at my feet.
“Every wicked thing I can think of and then some,” he murmured, his fingers making quick work of my bra. “I have a whole year to make up for not being with you; in you.”
Oh. I panted, my heart going from normal to flat-out crazy. And then I lost my mind when his lips latched on to my nipple. I groaned and clutched him to me, the sensation rocking my world.
“Don’t ever stop,” I whispered, and he muttered something. I have no idea what.
He slipped his hand underneath my panties, his fingers sliding in my heat, stroking, making me moan.
And after that, we moved fast, removing clothes frantically.
The bed seemed the best place, and we would get to it eventually, but at that moment the velvet chair was closer. We used the chair in a way it wasn’t meant to be, and I figured we might have to bring it home with us.
A few minutes later, room service interrupted our love fest, and I giggled uncontrollably behind the bathroom door as a towel-clad Cuba watched the waiter set up my meal. He grinned like a madman the entire time. We were both giddy.
“It killed me to break-up with you last year. To say those mean words,” he said told me again, in-between feeding me bites of filet. We sat on the floor, me wearing his shirt, him wearing his tight as hell underwear, which I couldn’t keep my hands off. It felt like Christmas or a birthday.
I said, “I should have seen the truth sooner. You were so dark. I should have realized—”
He stopped me with his fingers on my mouth. “Grief makes us do crazy things, Dovey. Let it go and focus on us now. And maybe, just maybe, our time apart gave us time to grow up and appreciate each other more. We’ve been through hell together, and we’ve come out on the other side. Older and wiser.”
Yes.
I held a strawberry to his lips and watched his white teeth bite into it. It made me all kinds of flustered.
“So you wanna go gamble later?” he said, a glint in his eyes I didn’t recognize. “Find a wedding chapel?”
I dropped the strawberry. “Is that a proposal? Are you serious?”
He shrugged, a small smile working his face. “Okay, maybe not this trip, but maybe after your ballet audition or maybe after you sell the house. Is that too sudden?”
I blinked.
“Okay, fine, I can wait until you make principal dancer or I finish pre-med. That is if you love me and if you want to spend the rest of —”
Oomph! Food flew as I shoved him down to the ground and rained kisses all over him.
“I love you,” I said as he clutched me to him.
He kissed me. “Forever, Dovey.”
“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
–Oscar Wilde
One Year Later
WARM.
I woke up in gradual phases, stirring around, my body searching for his, but he wasn’t there. I tugged my fluffy covers tight around me and rubbed my socked feet together, glad we had heat. January. I loved it. Really.
Beckham House was long gone.
Now, Heather-Lynn, Sarah, and I lived on Ross Street in downtown Dallas, a hipster kind of place with coffee houses, quaint book stores, and specialty boutiques. In this neighborhood, I didn’t have to tote a knife or a sock full of rocks around. Nope. Here you could venture out in the daytime without worrying about bums or druggies lurking around the corner.
Ratcliffe was in the past. Wait. Is that birds or angels I hear singing? Ha.
We’d moved here last March, right after I’d aced my audition and received my apprentice with the Dallas Ballet Company. As of today, I’d spent nearly a year there studying and receiving a small stipend. Fingers crossed, I’d be asked to stay on as part of the corps de ballet or maybe even as a soloist. Of course, my goal was to be a principal dancer, but big dreams take time and hard work. I was ready.
I adored our new building. A historical brownstone, it had large open spaces and windows. The place was owned by Archie Hudson who’d offered to let us move in before Beckham House sold—which it finally did this past fall. He’d been a huge help to us, even taking the money from the sale of Beckham House and investing for us. The rest we used for living expenses and Sarah.
And Archie? He was seeing a nice lady he’d met at his gym. Her name was Lucy, and Cuba liked her. I could tell by the way he talked about her.
Cuba lived in the same building as us, just one floor up, although he stayed here with us most of the time. Between helping his dad with a yearlong camp for underprivileged kids and his classes at Southern Methodist, he was busy. So, having him here meant everything to me. I teased him sometimes about spending his time with three ladies, but he didn’t care. Heather-Lynn fawned over him constantly, and Sarah believed he’d always been around. He ate it up.
He and I loved exploring our new neighborhood together. The library was my favorite, where we’d wander inside the stacks for hours, getting lost in the aisles, holding hands. Every now and then, when the librarians who worked the circulation desk weren’t looking, we’d sneak into the service elevator and ride down to the basement where books were kept in piles on big work tables. Of course, my days of stealing books were over, but it was a good place to kiss. A good place to explore with someone you loved.
An off key song reached my ears, and I grinned from my big bed. Someone had gotten up early. And I knew exactly who. Eager to hear more and watch the action, I climbed out and pulled on leggings and a tunic. I detangled my hair with my fingers as I walked down the hall, the laughter from the kitchen tugging at my heart.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the hall mirror and paused. The blue streaks still decorated the ends of my dark hair, hanging on. I smiled, remembering the girl who’d wanted him to see me.
Cuba had played with the strands last night, his eyes heavy with promise. “It’s almost gone,” he noted from above as we’d lain in bed.
“You want me to get more?”
He’d grinned and kissed me long and hard, until we were all over each other, forgetting the question. Then, much later, he’d pistoned behind me, his hands clutching me. With his mouth on my nape, he’d whispered hoarsely, “I’ll love you no matter what color your hair is.” Those words had sent my body straight over the edge, had me panting into the sheets at the way he loved me. All holds barred, he loved me with everything he had. Two survivors who’d had to grow up way too fast, we’d found each other.
The pain of our break-up faded. He’d proven himself to me in Vegas when he’d gotten rid of Alexander. He’d proven himself by forging a friendship with Spider, even though dude could be an ass sometimes. As for his own guilt, he and his dad were going to grief counseling together. It was something they should have done years ago, but sometimes it takes reaching your low before you realize you have to put effort into learning to live again.
And me? I’ve chosen to not judge myself
. I’ve seen how self-hate can rip you apart inside. I’d watched my mama give up, and that was not part of who I was. I’d seen the way Cuba had punished himself.
I refused to dwell on the sacrifices I made. I chose optimism instead.
Speaking of Spider, we were headed down to Austin tonight to see Vital Rejects play. Not to anyone’s surprise, he and Sebastian had become good friends, both of them forgoing college to work on their music. Not sure how it would turn out, but I couldn’t wait to see what they did together.
And Sebastian?
He’d changed from the sweet guy I’d met in Lit class. Emma had broken him and the baby? Well…
I walked in the kitchen and lost my breath.
“Dovey, Dovey, my lovey,” came the deep baritone song from the white stove where Cuba stirred what looked like pancake mix. My tummy rumbled. He liked to feed me. See, we were perfect.
He wore a white wife beater with black track pants and looked sexy as hell. I salivated for him, not just breakfast. Swooping in, I wrapped my arms around his muscled waist and kissed him on the lips. Best way to start the day. His amber eyes smoldered, giving me delicious shivers all over my body. Yeah, we’d be going straight back to bed after this.
Heather-Lynn made a gagging face at me as she set the table. I grinned manically. Love made me happy.
Sarah sat at the table reading the newspaper, caught by something she saw in the Sunday comic section. I kissed the top of her head. A home health nurse came five times a week to be with her while Heather-Lynn and I had the other two days full time. It had been hard giving her care up to a stranger, to someone who didn’t know her, but it was a better choice than the nursing home. I didn’t know what the future held, but with Cuba with me, I wasn’t as scared of the dark.
She glanced up at me, her green eyes open and innocent like a child.
Sometimes she knew exactly who I was; most times she didn’t.
And even though she’s fading, there’re moments when she’ll grab my hand and say, “I know you. You’re that dancer.”
I’d want to cry, but I’d smile and say, Yes, that’s me.
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