by Carina Adams
I never knew what she was going to say, or what to expect from her. I liked that I couldn’t predict her actions. She kept me on my toes in a way no one, other than Roman, had.
A few minutes later we stood on my front lawn and stretched. “What kind of exercise routine do you normally have?”
“Me?” She glanced up from a hamstring sweep. “Oh, I dance.”
“Dance?” I asked playfully. “That’s cool. What kind?”
She blinked once. Then again. “Uh,” she looked like a deer in the headlights. “Ballet.”
“Oh? My mom does ballet. Some of my earliest memories are watching her in Swan Lake. I like The Nutcracker better, but don’t ever tell her.” It was all I could do not to laugh at her horrified expression. “Maybe you’ve crossed paths, been in the same shows.”
She nodded vigorously. “Yeah, maybe.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “We should go.”
I started out slow to match her pace. We’d made it to the end of my cul-de-sac when I leaned over into her. “My mom’s not really in the ballet, you goof.”
“Oh, thank God,” she giggled, already out of breath.
My legs ached with the need to increase our speed. “You don’t have to go the entire way with me.”
“I’m good. I should have a second form of cardio anyway,” she huffed out each word. “How far do you go?”
“Five miles.”
“Oh, wow.” She stopped. “On second thought,” she smiled, “you go on without me. I’ll meet you back at home.”
I stopped and pulled her against me. “I’ve never been so inspired to hurry home.” With a quick peck, I sent her on her way. “I’ll be right back.”
I made great time on the loop, my thoughts on her the entire way. I didn’t want to examine it too closely, afraid I wouldn’t like what I saw and I’d find some way to self-sabotage. I couldn’t get her out of my head, though. Considering all the shit Roman had thrown at me the day before barely crossed my mind, that was a good thing.
Twenty-Nine
Cady
I spent the next ten days avoiding everyone but Reid.
I set my alarm earlier than normal and hurried from the apartment before I could run into Frankie. I never missed a class and focused on the text book and lecture so intently it had to be clear to everyone that I didn’t want to be distracted. I arrived to work on time and put all my energy into practice, my attention on learning the new dances for the Halloween party instead of joking with my friends.
I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I refused to allow myself to think about anything other than what was important in that moment. I wanted to be left alone and focus on school and work.
With the exception of Reid.
There was no pressure with him. We laughed together for hours, finding humor in the silliest things. I’d invade his house and we’d spend hours sitting at his kitchen table working on papers or lying on his bed studying. Some nights I’d stay at his place, and we’d go on a run the next morning. Others, I’d drive myself home after another one of the best make-out sessions known to human kind.
We were in our own little bubble. There was no pressure, we were so busy we didn’t try to take things further. For almost two weeks I was able to pretend nothing bothered me.
However, it was right there, on the edge of my subconscious. Every time I let my guard down, even if just for a split second, it came crashing back. “That’s why you slept with Olivia.”
I’d woken up on a strange couch, the television the only light in the room, and it had taken me a moment to figure out where I was. Once it came back to me, I headed toward the smell of coffee and the sound of male voices. I’d started to round the corner, ready to intrude, when I’d heard Reid say the six little words that now haunted me.
I’d waited for Roman to deny it, to get angry, to do anything other than sit there quietly. He hadn’t.
Roman had slept with Livie. Not long before the wedding that never happened. That mistake had broken hearts and destroyed friendships.
I’d stopped dead in my tracks, shocked to my core. Horrified, I’d listened to the rest of their conversation. Unfortunately, it left me with more questions than answers. One day I might want to know more about the entire situation, but I was too focused on one little part of it to care about anything else.
There were so many levels, too much hurt and betrayal, I struggled to wrap my head around it. Cheating was a shitty thing to do, period. I wasn’t foolish enough to think it didn’t happen all the time. And I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that if someone was in a committed relationship, they couldn’t make a mistake. That didn’t make it right, though.
If he’d slept with anyone else, I wouldn’t have cared. In fact, I would’ve made up excuses for Roman. He was hurt, he wouldn’t have done it if Brooke hadn’t betrayed him first, blah, blah, blah. He was my friend and I defended my friends to the death, whether they were right or wrong.
It hadn’t been someone else, though. Liv and Roman hadn’t just betrayed Brooke, they’d cheated on Frankie. It made me a hypocrite, but I couldn’t excuse their actions away because they’d hurt my favorite person on the earth and I wasn’t okay with it. In fact, I was infuriated.
I didn’t know how to process the facts, let alone how to move forward. Liv and Frankie were two of the most dedicated people I knew. They didn’t take breaks or have an open relationship. They didn’t hurt each other intentionally like so many couples our age. As far as I knew, they had a happy, healthy, committed relationship.
I darted back and forth between telling Frankie what I’d learned and keeping the secret because I didn’t want to hurt her. I wasn’t sure what the best course of action was because both had pros and cons. In the end, I decided I couldn’t go to her with assumptions. Before I told my best friend news that would emotionally cripple her, I needed the facts.
I knew all I had to do was ask Roman. We had the honesty pact, after all. However, I wasn’t ready to hear the truth. So, I tried to push it away until I could take the time to figure it out.
The more I retreated into myself, my focus on Reid and away from the issue at hand, the more distracted and agitated I became with the rest of my life. My classes were getting harder and I was barely passing. The new dances—three group numbers that had been meticulously choreographed—weren’t easy. I felt like I was spinning out of control and the only thing that kept me on the track was Reid.
For months it had been easy to forget I wasn’t the weakest link at Soiree. My routines, while seductive and appealing, were beginner level burlesque. They were perfect for my individual performances, but as we started to piece together the group routines, it became painfully obvious. We either had to dumb down the sequences to fit my needs, or I had to work extra hard to learn moves they all executed flawlessly.
I’d argued that I was a fast learner. I didn’t want to jeopardize the party itself, or have guests be disappointed because they didn’t get the show they’d come to expect from Soiree. I struggled, though.
“What in the hell was that?” Roman snapped late Wednesday afternoon as the music cut off. “Ruffles, you missed your mark four different times.”
“I know,” I growled back, hands on my hips as I tried to catch my breath. “I’m trying. I’ll get it.”
“Stop trying and just do it.” He threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “You have one more night to practice.”
“Yeah, so you keep saying.”
“These aren’t hard moves.”
“Maybe not for the rest of your dancers, but I’m not the rest of your dancers. If you want perfection, hire someone else.”
For a moment, he looked taken aback. No one else said a word, all shocked into silence. “Ruffles, my office, now.”
I was tempted to tell him to go to hell. Somehow I managed to give him a curt nod and snatched my water off the floor as I hurried from the room without a glance toward the others. I didn’t want to be alone with him, but I didn’t
want to cause an even bigger scene either.
I didn’t make it to the office. Roman’s fingers closed around my bicep a few seconds after he closed the studio door and he spun me around. “What’s wrong?”
I hated the worry in his voice and the concern on his face. I was mad at him, damn it. I yanked my arm away.
“Nothing.”
“That was not nothing. You’re flailing in there.”
“What do you want me to say?”
His forehead wrinkled. “Tell me the truth.” His eyes bore into mine. “Honesty, remember? Cady, what’s going on?”
I bit my lip. He had me there. I could lie, but then I’d be the asshole who not only just lied, but also broke a promise. I didn’t want to be that person. I wanted to be plain old me again.
“I’m dealing with something I’m not ready to talk about right now.”
His face immediately softened. “How can I help?”
There was nothing but sincerity in his voice or the way he held himself. Guilt hit me hard and fast. This man was my friend. I hadn’t even known him a few months before. I couldn’t hold him accountable for his actions back then.
Then I thought about Frankie. I hadn’t known him, no. But he’d known Liv wasn’t single. Personal feelings aside, he’d hurt my best friend. And now I was in a position where I either had to lie to her, too, or tell her the truth and devastate her. That was half his fault.
I shook my head, unable to form words.
His worry deepened into a scowl. “Take the afternoon off. Go home. We’ll catch you up tomorrow.”
“I have a costume fitting in an hour.”
“Randy can do it tomorrow.” I started to argue, but he cut me off with a sharp shake of his head. “You’ve been working too hard. I should’ve seen it before now, monitored you better, especially with the pressure from the Halloween party. Go home.”
He didn’t let me respond before he turned and strode back to the studio. I glared after him, then rolled my eyes and rushed to the back room, threw my bag over my shoulder, and tried to figure out how to spend my night. Going home was out—Liv would be at the apartment with Frankie and I couldn’t stand to see the two of them together. Reid had to study and I’d been dominating his time all week. I didn’t want to be alone. Without taking a moment to second guess my decision, I dialed a familiar number I hadn’t called in months.
“Is Reggie there?” Lucky answered happily on the third ring.
I paused, thrown off for a moment, then played along. “Don’t be stupid. You know that rat bastard is gone. Where’s my money?”
“Yeah, yeah,” He whispered back. “Is this a secure line?”
“It’s been too long. I’m coming to collect. Your soul is mine.”
He snorted. “It has been too long. How in the hell are you?”
“I’m in the mood for a drink. Any chance you’re free?”
“Actually,” he cleared his throat, “I’m working tonight. I can take a long break with an old friend. Get your ass down here.”
“On my way.”
Hooligans was practically empty when I walked in twenty minutes later. Lucky spotted me as soon as I was through the door, lifted his hand in the air in greeting, and hollered, “Booth by the window.”
He slid two pints onto the table as I settled in. “How ya been, stranger?”
“Let’s talk about you. Is the pressure getting to you? How are your ribs?” He’d been hurt in an away game a few weeks ago but he looked like he was feeling fine now.
“All healed,” he smiled pleasantly. “No pressure. It’s just my last homecoming game with a championship riding on the line. No big deal,” he shrugged.
“Always calm under stress.”
“Nah. It’s all an illusion. Inside I’m freaking out. Outside, I’m as cool as a cucumber. It psych’s my opponents out. How’s the new job?”
“Job?” I choked on my beer, suddenly worried about what he might have heard.
“The bookkeeping gig,” he looked concerned. “Don’t tell me you got fired already.”
Relived, I grinned. “Nope. It’s good. I love it.”
“Good. It’s about time you found your niche.”
His question triggered a thought. “You’re not going to the party Friday night are you?”
“The frat-bash?”
I nodded.
“Yeah, the team is going. The plan is just to make an appearance and promote Saturday’s game, thank the boosters. We’ll go early, get in and out before it really starts. We don’t want to do anything to jeopardize the game. We’ll party after we win. Why, you want to go? I’ll bring you along if you want.”
“No. I’m good. I was just curious.”
“They say it’s going to be sick. Like five-hundred people.”
“Holy hell, five-hundred?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Crazy, right?” Horrified, I couldn’t respond. He kept talking. “So, tell me about your classes this year. I feel like I never see you.”
I responded to his questions and tried to engage in the conversation, but my mind was stuck on the fact I didn’t know the routines and had less than forty-eight hours to get my shit together. I prayed he wouldn’t notice how distracted I was or call me out on it. I adored Lucky, and any other time I would want to hear about his life and the new woman he’d fallen for.
I excused myself as soon as I could and headed straight home. I locked my door and practiced the dances over and over until my calves ached and my feet throbbed. I could not go out in front of that many people and make a fool of myself or embarrass Roman. I just couldn’t.
“Amazing.”
I turned my back toward the mirror, faced the man spying on me from the door, and ignored both the compliment and the urge to cover. “We all got colors assigned to us,” I thumbed the silk section of the bra. The overall costumes were all slightly different to show personality, but also very similar. The only thing that made each of us stand out was the unique color of our bras and panties.
Reid nodded. “Vi got deep purple, of course. Peaches, burnt orange. Myra, blood red.”
“And I got black. To match my soul.” I sassed.
“That’s the truth.” He smiled, but couldn’t hide the hint of worry as he inspected me much too closely. “Have you lost weight?”
I did a double take. There was no way he could have noticed. The damn scale had barely budged. “A few pounds, maybe. Nothing I can’t stand to lose.” His face turned dark and I knew an argument was coming so I cut him off. “What are you doing here?”
“I actually wanted to talk to you,” he moved into the room and closed the door. For a minute I thought he would kiss me. Instead, he put distance between us and sat on the stool by the sewing machine. “Where do you think we are?”
My eyes slid around the room. “In Randy’s office.”
He sighed. “In our relationship, smart ass.” When I didn’t answer, he kept talking. “I’m feeling a little something.”
“Good. Maybe later you can feel a lot of something.”
“Cady,” he groaned.
I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. “I like you, too.”
“Good to know we’re acting like we’re twelve and we like each other. Maybe we can send notes in class.”
“Only if they have check boxes. I don’t want to get caught.”
His look was sharp. “What do you think we are?”
“I’m going to assume that’s not a philosophical question. Are you, Mr. Anti-relationship, trying to label this?” I moved a finger back and forth between us.
“No, not label. Define.”
“Isn’t it the same thing?”
“Not at all.”
“Okay, fine,” I smirked. “Define away.”
“I want to see where we can go.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
He took a deep breath and rubbed the top of his head in frustration. “I think that we could have a good time. Be good together.”
>
The man was talking in circles. “I do, too. But we already knew that.”
“It was implied,” he shrugged. When I didn’t say anything, he shook his head slightly. “Are you seeing other people?”
“No,” I answered slowly. “But I didn’t know I was seeing you, either. Aren’t we just hanging out?”
“No. You’ve spent eight out of the last eleven nights with me.”
I laughed because it was both funny and obnoxious. I’d crashed at his house, yes. I’d slept in his bed. But, I wouldn’t say I’d spent the night with him. It sounded too tawdry.
I cleared my throat when he didn’t join me. “You’re right. I have. Fully clothed, completely harmless nights at your house. So, it means we’re seeing each other?”
“You tell me.”
I sighed. “I’m very confused right now. Just tell me whatever it is you need to say.” I had lost my patience and wasn’t sure I could get it back.
“Are you sleeping with anyone right now?”
“Technically, you, as you’ve pointed out. If you’re asking if I’m having sex with anyone, the answer is no.”
“And the guy yesterday, the one at the bar?”
My mouth fell open before I recovered with an attitude. “Are you following me?”
“No. Someone saw you. Apparently you looked very cozy.”
“Wow. I don’t know who told you that, but Lucky is an old friend. I had a beer with him and talked about his mystery girlfriend. Any other questions you’d like to ask about my habits or whereabouts?”
“Nope. That covers it.”
I pushed my tongue into my cheek. “Awesome.”
He stood and was in front of me before I could move back. “I’m sorry,” he swallowed. “Go out with me.”
I almost laughed at the insanity of the situation. “We go out all the time.”
“No,” he shook his head. “Let’s see where this thing is going. I really like you. I know,” he shrugged with a smirk, “it shocked the shit out of me, too.” He kissed me before I could tell him to go to hell. “I want us to see where this goes.”