by Rose, Ashley
“What was that?” Jaz asked form the doorway.
“Just go away, will you?” She grabbed some clothes and stuffed them into her bag.
“Fine.” Jaz held up her hands. “You wanna go crawling back to that bastard? Go right ahead.”
“You don’t know him.”
“No. You’re right,” Jaz said. “I don’t know him. But I saw the bruises he left on you. I saw the makeup and clothes you wore to cover them up. I saw him come here and freak out and try to beat the crap outta you.”
Rikke ignored her.
“Look. Ben obviously cares about you and was definitely worried about you. Why don’t you just go talk to him?”
“I don’t remember asking for your advice. Probably because I would never ask for relationship advice from a skank like you.”
Jaz took a step back. “You don’t know me.”
“And you don’t know me!” Rikke slammed the drawer of her dresser shut. “So leave me the hell alone.”
Jaz glared for a moment before turning and entering her own room, slamming the door behind her.
Rikke sighed and looked down. This was the right decision, wasn’t it? Sure, Adam was being kind of tough at first, but like he said, she needed to earn his trust back. And so what if that was doing a few things she didn’t like at first, it would be better in the end. Right?
She didn’t have the chance to answer her own question. Her phone rang in her pocket. Adam, no doubt calling to figure out what was taking her so long. He demanded that she return to his dorm with his vehicle, and when she got there, he glared at her as he opened the door.
“Is it clean?”
“Yes.” She put the keys into his upturned palm. “It took me a while. I missed my classes.”
He shrugged. “Did you get a good parking spot?”
“Sort of.”
He sighed, as if disappointed in her. “Come on.” He stepped back to let her in the door.
She moved to put her bag on his bed and noticed his roommate lounging across the room on his own bed. He had his laptop on his stomach and looked to be playing a game. He glanced at her, looking her up and down before returning his gaze to his computer screen.
She glanced at Adam, who was shutting and locking the door. “I didn’t know your roommate was gonna be here.”
He glanced over. “Yep.
“Then we’re not going to do anything. Right?”
Adam grinned and backed her up to the bed. “Whatcha talkin’ about, babe? That’s the whole reason you came over. Right?” He pushed her onto the bed and straddled her hips. “The next stage of forgiveness.”
“Yeah. But—”
His hands pushed her shirt up, bra with it.
“Adam!” She glanced over at the roommate, who glanced their way with a slightly amused look on his face. She tried to cover herself but Adam caught her bruised wrists in his hands and pinned them beside her head.
“Relax, babe. A small audience isn’t a big deal.”
She grimaced when his hands tightened, and she squirmed under him a bit. “I—”
“Good,” Adam cut her off. “Now.” He slid his hand to her lips, prying her mouth open with a thumb. “Ready for round two?”
25
Lorna
Lorna had never been to the theater building, but it wasn’t hard to find. As she turned around the corner, she found Nash leaning against the wall near the door. He had been waiting for her.
“Hey.” He cocked his head as his eyes swept her up and down. “You look different.”
“Yeah.” She looked down at her skinny jeans and T-shirt. “I came straight from class. But don’t worry,” she patted her bag, “I’ve got my practice gear.”
“Cool.” He opened the door and waved her in. “Shall we?”
She entered the building with him, and he led the way to a room filled with high tables, sewing machines and lots and lots of fabric. People were milling around, chatting, measuring other people and the hum of sewing machines filled the room. She waited while Nash spoke to someone who then led them back outside and to a locked door. After keying into what looked like a storage room, the person nodded and left, leaving them to enter the room.
“There’s an Apparel Design major, Pearl, who works with me to make all of the outfits for my piece. She’s out sick today but I think you and Gabby are close to the same size.” The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with shelves, all overflowing with different sorts of plastic bins. Nash pulled one that was labeled with his name and the year. “She did a great job with them. Even though the pole dancing outfit isn’t a whole lot of material, she really tied it in with the other dancers’ outfits.”
After some rummaging, Nash found a pair of small black shorts, similar to the ones she wore already, but made of a different material and embroidered with red and silver thread.
Nash came up with the top next, which was about the size of a cut-off sports top but was made to be worn over a sports bra. The racer-back style would leave most of her shoulders bare.
“What do you think?”
She nodded. “I like them. Very simple.”
“Yeah. I didn’t want anything flashy. The other outfits look great too.”
She nodded at the material in her hands.
“So. Let’s get you in them then? See if they fit.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Ummm.” He looked around. “I’ll step outside and make sure no one comes in.”
She nodded and waited until he disappeared, feeling more than a little uncomfortable.
She stepped into the corner and changed as quickly as possible. Of course she’d worn a red push-up bra to match her thong so she had to pull on her sports bra instead. The small silver and red embroidered shorts slipped on snugly over her red lace, and the top fit just as well over her chest. After stuffing her bra into her bag she looked down at herself, wishing she had a mirror.
The clothes seemed to fit well. She would have liked the shorts to cover more, and their cut was a little bit different from her workout spandex but she could get used to it. The top was cut perfect so that it covered her bra and not much else. She felt like they looked good without being overly sexual, which was good since the dancing would do enough of that itself.
A soft knock on the door and Nash’s muffled voice followed. “Got it?”
“Yeah.” She nervously tugged down the shorts. “Come in.”
Nash shut the door behind him and approached her. “How do they fit?”
“Good. I think.” She plucked at the top. “Maybe if this were taken in a little? Gabby was a bit bigger in this area than I am. It’s good how it is, but for some of the acrobatics I’d like if it was a little tighter.”
Nash stepped close and tugged the top around a bit. “Yeah. For sure. It’ll be an easy fix for Pearl. Everything else good?” His hands ran along the hem of the shirt, checking the length and then around back to fiddle with the shoulders.
“I think so.”
“The bottoms? They look a little tight.”
She blushed, especially as his hands came down and a finger slipped under the waistband. “They are a bit, but I think they’re good like that. It’s good for pole dancing. I have a bit bigger... legs than Gabby too.”
“More muscle. I’ve seen them at work.” He used his hands on either side of the garment and pulled it down a bit, threatening to show her red thong. “They look great though. If you like them fitted like that, I don’t think Pearl needs to touch them. She’ll be happy about that.”
Lorna swallowed slowly. “I can lose a couple pounds.”
“What?” He circled to face her. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I’m just saying. I know my legs are big.”
“With muscle, Lorna! You have the body of a dancer. We need strong legs.”
“Your other dancers don’t.”
“My other dancers can’t do the stunts that you do. Ok? End of discussion.”
She looked d
own.
“Lorna...” Nash sighed. “I asked you to do this piece for two reasons. You’re a great dancer. And you’re stunningly beautiful. Neither of those things have changed. Okay?”
She nodded.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Be all passive and retreat into your shell.”
“It’s not like I can help it.”
Nash stepped away after a moment, next to the shelving units. “I don’t like making you uncomfortable.”
“Sorry.”
“For?”
She shrugged. “For not being different. I know this would all be a lot easier if I wasn’t such an introvert.”
“I like that about you though. I like that you’re quiet and not flashy or slutty. You break a lot of stereotypes, doing what you’re doing.”
“Is that a good thing?” she asked, smoothing her hand down the boy shorts, feeling the intricate patterns.
“Yes. That’s what dancing is about, Lorna.” He pushed away from the shelves. “That’s why I put this piece together. To show people that all different types of dance can be art. Even something like pole dancing. You show that perfectly.”
“Thanks.”
They stood in silence again, for longer this time. Lorna wasn’t sure if she should be moving or asking why he was silent. After a while, Nash closed the distance between them.
“Remember yesterday when you asked about that kiss? If it was going to happen again?”
She nodded and looked up at him slowly, remembering the feel of this lips, wishing she could have gotten a better taste.
“What I should have said is that it shouldn’t happen again. Because that path...with the performance...it could lead to some bad things. Some conflicts of interest. And I really, really don’t want to compromise the piece.”
Her heart sank a little but she understood. He was the director, and getting involved with a dancer was strictly off limits, like a cardinal rule.
“But the more time I spend with you, the less I’m starting to care.” His hand cupped the side of her neck, his thumb stroking lightly over her ear. “You’re so damn hard to read. I can’t tell if this is a one-sided feeling I’m having.”
“I kissed you back last time,” she said, so quietly she wasn’t sure if he’d heard her. “Didn’t I?”
His eyes widened a little and then he broke into a grin and murmured, “True...” As the word trailed off he leaned down, tilting his head, and kissed her. He was a bit more assertive this time, and she threw caution to the wind and kissed him back enthusiastically.
She was glad she did. His other hand came around her back and pulled their bodies together as she slid both hands up to his chest. The kiss was hesitant but snowballing into some full-fledged tongue action. Sirens in her head went off, warning her that she wasn’t thinking straight. She’d never do something like this if she was thinking straight. But there was the other sound, a voice telling her to step out of her comfort zone, take a risk, kiss a boy.
Nash made a sound of satisfaction against her mouth and pulled her higher, drawing her up onto her tiptoes. Lorna angled her head and pressed close, sliding her tongue past his as they mutually explored each other.
As she began to get short on air, Nash pulled back slowly, their lips parting, but just barely. She gulped, the taste of him in her mouth, on her lips, burned into her mind.
“This could be a huge mistake,” he said, catching his breath. “Shep would say it’s a risk we shouldn’t be taking. It could ruin everything if things between us get tense.”
“Well.” She licked her lips and tried to hold onto that carefree voice that told her to take risks and speak what she felt. “Shep isn’t here. And I don’t know about you, but I’m more relaxed around you now than I’ve ever been.”
“You think?”
“That’s what we’ve been looking for, what Shep wanted. Right?”
Nash nodded. “True.”
She glanced down, looking at her fingers against the cotton of his T-shirt. “And Shep doesn’t need to know. No one does. Because you’re right. If people even thought we were involved, it could jeopardize the performance.”
“So.” His hand trailed up and down her back. “We keep this under wraps, at least until the performance.”
She nodded.
“And after?”
She looked up. She didn’t know what he wanted, how he felt exactly, if he was looking for a relationship, if he was interested in anything more than making out in secret.
“Maybe we can cross that bridge when we come to it?” he suggested.
“Yeah. That sounds good.”
He nudged her chin up to face him and smiled. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”
“You hid it well. I mean I guess you had to though.”
He nodded and put both arms around her back, settling on her waist.
“So, just to avoid confusion...”
“Hm?” he prompted.
“Maybe set some ground rules? The performance is soon.”
“Ah. Yeah.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Let’s keep it minimal until whatever we decide after the performance.”
“By minimal, you mean...?”
“No sex.”
Heat flooded her face, and she looked down. “Yes. Good idea.” Lorna was a virgin. A twenty-year-old virgin. But it wasn’t like sex hadn’t crossed her mind, it obviously had. Especially with Nash.
“I’m sorry.” His arms loosened. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No?” she joked lightly. “Because you’re a master at it.”
“Sorry,” he repeated, drawing out the word and holding her close again, putting her face against his shoulder.
She leaned against him, turning her face into his neck and let out a big breath of relief. He wasn’t going to laugh at her for being so shy. “Rehearsal is soon,” she said after a few moments, pulling away.
“Yeah. We should head out.” But his arms didn’t loosen even as she squirmed a little bit.
She stopped trying to pull away and looked up at him. She hadn’t been ready for this next kiss, but it didn’t take her long to get with the program. It was a bit softer and more casual, not desperate or uncertain as the other had been. Now that the air was clear, they were free to kiss properly, which they did for several more minutes before finally pulling apart, flushed faces and puffy lips.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Lorna and Nash arrived at the dance studio. They had both stopped at their respective locker rooms and changed into their proper dancing attire. They shared a quick kiss in the empty hallway before entering the room where Shep and the other dancers were warming up.
“Where have you two been?” Shep checked his watch. “You’re two minutes late.”
“Lorna was trying on the outfit Pearl made for Gabby.”
Shep’s jaw dropped. “A fitting? And I wasn’t invited?”
“Sorry.” Nash put his bag down and joined the dancers. “But I wanted to be finished sometime this century.”
“I resent that,” Shep said, but turned to Lorna with a smile. “Did it fit?”
“It did.” Lorna put down her bag. “The top needs taken in a bit but Nash said that wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Nope. Pearl’s great.” He led her to the front of the room so that all the dancers were facing her in their formation. “Do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“We are going to do a run through of the group part, will you watch? I have an eye for the technical but since I designed the moves it’s hard for me to watch with an objective eye. Can you just tell me how it looks as a whole?”
“Sure.”
“All right.” Shep sat down in one of the two chairs and put his arm on the back of the other. “Have a seat, beautiful. I have to sit, otherwise I’ll walk around and start fixing people.”
She sat and looked at the group. They were in a patterned formation with Nash in the
middle and forefront. The pole she’d normally be on was in the front also, a bit off center.
Shep hit the remote and the music started. Nash stood straight with the other dancers, eyes forward, arms down. He really was attractive. The blond hair suited his skin tone and his clothes fit him well, even as he moved, showing off his incredible body.
At first, Nash moved with the group as they performed some classic ballet. Then the music changed, abrupt but not jolting. All but one of the dancers stopped moving as the hip-hop music started. Then it switched again, jazz music and another dancer started dancing as everyone else froze. Next was techno music and a girl on the left started breakdancing. As the music switched, each person got a turn to dance, each with a different style.
The music quieted, for longer this time. She waited for a bit and then glanced at Shep, wondering if the CD had skipped or something. But it started up again with a loud thundering beat. She turned back and Nash was dancing alone, a mixture of hip hop and jazz, as he moved through the choreography with perfect form. His eyes stayed on the mirror as he moved his body through the intricate moves. She watched in awe, wondering why she had never noticed how good of a dancer he was before. But then he switched. He went through the series of dance styles quickly and with smooth transitions while the other dancers stood perfectly still, frozen in their own positions.
The music built up until finally Nash leapt up into the air and spun in a full circle, body arched, from neck to toes. He landed on his knees, folding his body back the other way to slam his palms to the floor. It would have been loud, but it was muffled by a loud pound from the music, which unfroze all the other dancers.
As they performed the choreography, easing in and out of different dance types, she couldn’t watch anyone but Nash. The guy could dance. And it was sexy as hell. He was more flexible than he looked and proved it by doing a couple split leaps across the floor.
She’d expected the other dancers to stay in generally the same place while Nash moved around the floor, since it was his piece. But the opposite occurred. He stayed in the same spot while the others moved around and sometimes in front of him. But he still somehow managed to stay the center of attention. His moves, no matter the style of dance, were sharp and powerful, even the softer movements. How does he do that?