by Jayne Frost
Swallowing hard, I skirted the crowd and took my place at the edge of the makeshift stage. When the music stopped, Ivan’s icy blue eyes lingered on my shoes for a moment, and all the air seeped from my lungs. Suddenly, blisters didn’t seem like such a big deal. Not when he could strip off my skin with just a glare.
Straightening my spine, I prepared to take whatever criticism he had to offer.
“Nice of you to join us, Gels,” Micha said, throwing an arm over Sydney’s shoulder.
Biting back an apology—because what the hell did I have to be sorry for?—I kept my gaze on our teacher. “I didn’t know there was a meeting.”
“Maybe you should check your messages,” my partner quipped. “Group text.”
Ivan slowly shifted his focus to Micha. “It is nice that you worry so much about your partner. But she is right on time. Early, in fact.”
I didn’t fail to notice the sarcasm in his tone. And neither did anyone else.
“Do you need time to warm up, malysh?” Ivan asked, ignoring the murmurs from the rest of the dancers.
Thanking my lucky stars for the hour I’d spent in the pool with Miles doing stretches, I shook my head. “No. I’m ready.”
A broad smile broke on Ivan’s lips as he closed the distance between us. “Good. Then we can begin.” Resting a hand at the small of my back, he turned to our audience. “Gelsey and I will be dancing this sequence together. Nadia, you will videotape.”
My blood pressure shot through the roof. “W-What?”
He smiled down at me. “You have a problem dancing with an old man?”
Old man?
Ivan was in better shape than most of the top male dancers in the world. For that reason alone, he rarely performed with anyone in the company. We simply weren’t at his level.
“No problem.”
“Good.” He gave me a little pat before flicking his gaze to Micha, who looked as stunned as I was. “You will start the music on my mark.”
My feet fumbled to find first position when Ivan’s hands molded to my hips.
“You are nervous, malysh?” Hearing the smile in his voice, I shook my head. “Excellent.”
He tipped his chin to Micha, and I closed my eyes, praying I wouldn’t stumble as the first notes filled the air. Taking my hand, Ivan spun me around.
Unlike Micha, his touch was deft. A barely there whisper against my skin but commanding just the same. After our first lift, my toes found the ground with ease, sticking the landing. As the song reached a crescendo, I stretched toward the sky, reaching higher than I thought possible before dropping to my knees when the music ended.
The roar from our audience was deafening in the small space.
Forcing my attention to Micha as Ivan took my hand to help me up, I found him glaring at our teacher with murder in his eyes. At his side, Sydney gave me a begrudging smile.
“And that is how it is done,” Ivan said, close to my ear. “You are in greater command than you think.”
Pride bloomed in my chest, and I nodded. “Thank you, uchitel.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Now, you will come to my office. So we can discuss your new friend.”
I finished rushing through my explanation about Miles, then reached for the bottle of water on the desk like I’d been deprived of fluids for a month.
“So, this musician is the man you told me about?” Ivan asked. “The one you are working for? Or do you have more than one job?”
Heat burned all the way to my hairline. Mostly because I’d need to spell it out for Ivan. I’d thrown around the word “friends” several times. Like every other sentence. But he didn’t get the hint. And now that he’d mentioned money, I didn’t know what to say to make it sound less like a business deal that included other benefits.
My mind wandered to Trinity and her arrangement with Miles, and my mouth went dry again.
Ivan quickly lost patience.
“Gelsey,” he barked, sounding way more fatherly than usual. “Explain.”
“Yes, I work for Miles. But j-just a few hours a week.”
His eyes darkened to cobalt in the span of a second. “And you are also having sex?”
I felt my mouth drop open, and for the life of me, I couldn’t force it closed. He did have a clue after all.
“I…uh…”
Before I could finish, he waved a dismissive hand. “This is not acceptable.”
Not acceptable?
Every muscle in my body went rigid as his declaration sunk in. Even Sydney had a boyfriend. And so what if Miles and I were only temporary?
Chin jutting forward, I prepared to make an argument when Ivan inhaled a measured breath, interrupting my train of thought.
“I would prefer that you are not sleeping together and getting paid, malysh. That is all I meant.”
My throat tightened around my response, and I took another drink to rethink my position.
“I am training Miles,” I said eventually. “I negotiated a pretty large weekly amount before…well, before. And when he offered to let me move in, I insisted on paying rent.” I looked Ivan in the eye, and pride stared back at me. “I’m only accepting five hundred dollars a week. One hundred dollars for each hour of training. I can’t go to New York with no money.”
He rubbed his fingers over his chin while I held my breath. I was old enough to make my own decisions, good or bad, but Ivan’s opinion carried a lot of weight.
“When I found out your father was not supporting you any longer, I made some arrangements,” he finally said, focusing on his laptop.
“Ivan. Please. You don’t have to—”
I sealed my lips tight when he held up a finger. One finger. True, I’d never won a battle against this man. But I’d never given up so easily, either. In truth, I didn’t want to ruin this moment. Whatever small gift he wanted to bestow, I’d take it.
He turned the laptop to face me, and I blinked when Dance of the Flower spilled from the speakers. A second later, a video flashed across the screen. Me. On stage at my first recital, my mother just inside the frame. On pointe when I was nine, holding Ivan’s hand instead of the barre as I fought to balance on my tiptoes. Clutching a bouquet of roses at the curtain call for the company’s performance of the Nutcracker Suite when I’d danced the lead at fourteen. A flurry of still photos of me in rehearsals spanning the years flickered one after another. Too many to count. And then it was over.
My throat burned as I touched the screen. “What is this?”
“It is you.” He smiled. “I put together this video to present to our donors. Tatiana also directed some of her patrons to the site. So far we’ve collected just under twenty-four thousand dollars for your expenses.”
My eyes filled with tears. “I don’t understand. You did this? Where did all the clips come from?”
“They are mine. Little snapshots I have taken of you throughout the years.” A crease formed between his brows. “I am sorry that I did not do this sooner. Sometimes we only see what we want to see. Maybe it is too late to offer, but you are always welcome in my home if you are not happy where you are. And the money, of course, is yours to spend as you see fit. Olga will give you access to the account.”
Since there was nothing Ivan hated worse than tears, I tried furiously to keep the traitorous little drops from spilling onto my cheeks. “I don’t know what to say. I always thought…”
He leaned forward, frowning now. “What?”
“With all my problems, I just assumed that you didn’t think I was worth the effort.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Ivan’s shoulders slumped, and for a long time, he didn’t say anything. When he finally spoke, it was in a quiet voice.
“I did not push you because you pushed yourself so hard. After you were injured, I hoped…” His thought trailed off on another sigh. “I kept thinking you might choose another road. One that was not so difficult.”
Staring down at my pointe shoes, I swallowed the lu
mp of fear that always accompanied any talk of pursuing something besides dance. Ivan and I had never had the conversation. But the doctors and therapists had hinted.
Four good years.
That was the general consensus. If all the stars aligned.
“I don’t even know what another life looks like,” I said truthfully, and when I looked up, Ivan’s gaze was liquid blue, not the frozen ponds I was used to.
“You have many undiscovered talents, malysh. But for now—dance. You will know when it is time to stop.”
Miles
Hours after Gelsey left for rehearsal, I finally shook myself awake.
We’d had an early morning session in the pool, all business. Then a hot shower that included some pretty strenuous fucking up against the tile wall.
Gelsey hadn’t even made it to the door before I’d crawled back into her bed.
The sheets smelled like us. Like the massage oil I’d used on her last night. And lavender. And sex. I wanted to drown in it. Then wait for Gelsey to come home so I could drown in her.
But since I didn’t know when that would be, I forced myself upright and scrubbed a hand over my face. My attention strayed to my phone on the nightstand and the blinking light. Rather than get dressed, I slumped against the headboard and lazily scrolled my messages.
Deleting all but a few, I read Taryn’s first.
Chase said to bring the kid by the studio anytime. There’s usually someone jamming if you need some bodies to lay down tracks.
Blake in the studio? Was he even ready for that?
Blowing out a breath, I tapped out a reply.
I’ll talk to his doctor. Not sure if it’ll work. The kid is pretty damaged.
I massaged the muscle in my thigh out of habit. It didn’t hurt as bad. Letting my hand wander, my fingers traced the ridges of my abs, and I considered working out.
Huh.
It didn’t sound impossible.
Taryn’s reply forced my thoughts back to the present.
We’re all damaged, Miles. It’s nice what you’re doing for the kid. I love you.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I responded: Love you too.
Because I did. I’d never stopped. Even though I knew that letting Taryn back in meant dealing with all the shit from my old life. Friends that I’d left behind. And music.
My chest tightened, and I snagged my jeans off the floor. After digging the tiny silver case out of my pocket, I dropped the contents into my open palm. My daily dose of anti-depressants. Shaking the capsules in my hand, I considered what life would be like without them. The fist around my heart squeezed at the thought, and I popped the pills into my mouth.
They melted on my tongue, leaving a sour taste as I trudged to the bathroom for some water. Dipping my head to the faucet, I swallowed them down, along with a little of my pride.
Sheppard believed I’d always been depressed. That it was part of my DNA, like brown hair and the ability to strip any song down to a beat in seconds.
But I wasn’t so sure. I’d managed to go twenty-four years without any chemical intervention. The best years.
Scrutinizing myself in the mirror, my fingers inched toward the ink over my heart. I brushed my thumb over Paige’s name, and the R with the crown.
“Maybe twenty-four years is all you get.”
The lifespan for happy.
A cloud peaked over the horizon, gunmetal gray and filled with rain. My future.
The walls started to close in—not tight—there was still plenty of room to breathe. But I backed out of the room, nonetheless.
My heart pounded as I searched for my T-shirt in the sheets. That’s when I noticed a piece of paper on the pillow. Sinking onto the side of the mattress, I glanced over Gelsey’s note.
Not a note. A poem.
Write me a song
Hold my hand
Find me when I’m lost
Even if I’m right beside you
The same lightness I’d felt in Padre filled my chest. And just as quickly, it evaporated.
What was worse? A moratorium on happiness, or a seventy-day stay of execution?
Rolling my shoulders, I folded the paper in half with intentions of leaving it where I found it. But instead, I folded it again. Before I knew it, a Kawasaki rose took shape in my hands. The most intricate design I’d crafted in years.
I placed the flower on Gelsey’s pillow, grabbed my shirt, and headed for the door.
Emily was waiting for me when I strode through the kitchen door. She looked tan and rested and pissed off.
Hoping that she’d remember I was responsible for the former, I ignored the latter and brushed a kiss to her temple on my way to the fridge. “Hey, girl. Glad you’re back. What’s for lunch?”
Spinning to face me, she planted her butt against the counter, holding her phone in a death grip.
“Can you even pretend that you remembered our breakfast meeting?”
I paused with my hand wrapped around a bottle of Gelsey’s pomegranate juice.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I just…”
Forgot wasn’t even the right term. That would imply that I’d thought about it at some point. And I hadn’t. Not even once.
“I saw you in the pool with Gelsey this morning. That little make-out session where you had her pinned against the wall was especially enlightening. I assume she’s your new Trinity?”
Red painted the corners of my vision as I slowly closed the stainless-steel door.
“Gelsey is nothing like Trinity.”
Regarding me with a cool glare, Em inclined her head. “So you’re not paying her?”
I set the juice down on the island. “I’m not paying her for that.”
Locking our gazes, I dared her to mention what “that” was, hoping she’d read the warning signs and back the fuck off.
Instead, she continued to look me over like I was a stranger.
“But you’re still hedging your bets,” she finally said, conceding her ground when she broke eye contact.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I snagged a glass from the shelf. “Stop speaking in riddles.”
“Fine,” she bit out. “You tripped out on Trinity when she dared to spend one night in your bed. I wasn’t fond of the chick, but punishing her for falling asleep? That was cold. But now you’ve found a way around the rules, haven’t you?” I scowled at her as the first taste of pomegranate burst on my tongue, and she huffed a breath in response. “You’re sleeping in your own pool house! Way to commit! But I guess she’s fine with it. As long as she gets to keep driving your cars and—”
Thick liquid went flying when I slammed the glass down on the granite with more force than I intended.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but Gelsey moved back into the pool house after spending a night in my bed. A full night. She didn’t want to make things awkward for either of us. She’s considerate like that.
“Also, I took her to Padre Island while you were gone. I apologize if that doesn’t constitute ‘committing’ in your eyes. But I’m a fucking grown-up. And Gelsey has a life waiting for her in New York that doesn’t include me. So yeah, we’re temporary. But while she’s here, you need to mind your fucking manners. And keep your opinions to yourself.”
Emily’s face fell, and she opened her mouth to speak. But footsteps in the hallway caught my attention before she could say a word.
Gelsey.
From the speed at which she was retreating, she’d heard too much. Or not enough.
I shot Emily a glare on my way out of the room when she pushed off the counter to follow me. “Don’t even think about it. This isn’t a team sport.”
She babbled something that may have been an apology, but I was already gone. Catching a glimpse of blond hair ducking around the corner one flight above, I raced up the stairs.
“Hey,” I said breezily, skidding to a stop at the door to the guest room.
Gelsey stood at the window with her back to me,
like she’d run out of space. “I guess I should’ve rethought my exit strategy.”
I knew she wasn’t talking about the day she’d leave for good, but that was the only thing that popped into my mind.
Our gazes met in the glass, and she watched me warily as I moved toward her.
“You have an exit strategy?” I asked as my hands landed on that spot on her hips that I loved.
“Don’t you?”
“Nope. Guess I’m not much of a planner. Tell me why you ran off.”
A little shrug. “Seemed like a private moment. And since we’re only temporary…”
I spun her around. “See, that’s what you get when you hear only half of a conversation.”
Her hand found my cheek, thumb skating over my dimple. “There was more? I mean, before she jumped to the conclusion that you were paying me for something besides training.”
“Gels—”
She shook her head. “No. It’s a fair point. Which is the reason I was coming to find you.”
Apprehension skittered up my spine, and I molded my forehead to hers to forge a connection. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”
She smiled, and some of the pressure in my chest dissipated.
“If I would’ve met you under different circumstances…” A light chuckle tripped from her lips. “Okay, I thought you were an asshole when we met so I shouldn’t phrase it like that.” She took a breath. “If I would’ve gotten to know you under different circumstances, and found out you needed help, I wouldn’t have charged you. At least not thirteen hundred a week.”
She pressed a finger to my lips when I tried to respond.
“But it turned out you weren’t a jerk. And now I’m staying with you and living like a queen. Plus, you know, the sex.”
I nipped her finger. “The sex is good, baby. I think we should keep having it.”
From the way her cheeks pinked, she agreed. Which set my mind at ease a little. Until she slipped out of my arms.