by Jayne Frost
“I do too. But…” My stomach dropped to my shoes when she turned her back to me again. “If we’re going to keep doing that, then I can’t accept this.”
Whirling around, she shoved something in my direction. A check. My check.
I backed away like the thing had teeth. “Gelsey, that’s yours. You were up at seven this morning training me—”
Grunting in frustration, she shook the slip of paper. “Didn’t you hear Emily? We spent a good fifteen minutes making out. Take it. I’m not here for the money. And you’re giving me a place to stay. We’re even.”
Snagging the check from her hand, I tucked it into my back pocket. I could always get her bank account information later.
“What about New York?” I guided her over to the bed and, when she took a seat on the edge of the mattress, I crouched in front of her. “You can’t leave town penniless.”
She took my face in her hands. “I’m not. Ivan took care of it.”
I tipped back since I had the feeling she was trying to distract me. “How?”
Digging into her crossover bag, she took out her phone. “Press play.”
Easing onto my butt, I did as she asked.
A video flickered to life over a hauntingly beautiful melody as Gelsey appeared on the screen. Dancing. Smiling. Lacing up the ribbons on her satin slippers.
Dropping down next to me, she pointed to a woman in one of the clips. “That’s my mom.” I tapped the glass to zoom in but didn’t make it in time, and she frowned. “It’s hard to tell from this angle, but she was really beautiful.”
It wasn’t though. Even from the brief glimpse, I saw the big eyes and golden hair. And that smile. Gelsey’s smile.
I waited until the video started again to look up. “What is this?”
“It’s a page where donors can go and support me. I guess it’s like crowdfunding or something.”
My mouth dropped open when I clicked a link at the bottom of the page. “You’ve raised over twenty-five grand.”
She laughed, then playfully bit my shoulder. “A lot of rich people love ballet. Or pretend to, at least. Upside, I don’t need your money anymore.”
Making a mental note of the web address, I handed her back the phone. “So you’re just going to train me for nothing? That doesn’t seem fair.”
Her lips curved into a smile as she nuzzled my ear. “Not for nothing. I’m staying in your pool house. And then there’re the other things you’re giving me.”
Her hand slid to my crotch, and she palmed me through the denim. Catching her wrist, I flipped her onto her back, pinning her arm over her head.
“So you’re just going to objectify me? Use me for the cool digs and the awesome sex.”
She fluttered her lashes. “Please. I have twenty-five grand. I don’t need your cool digs.”
I tugged at the drawstring on her sweatpants. “So, just the sex then?”
Her grin widened. “If you insist.”
A second later when I reached the warmth between her thighs, all the amusement faded from her expression. She jerked when my finger slid over damp cotton.
“Tell me you want me.” I applied a little pressure to her clit, and she squirmed. “Say it, baby.”
“I do. I want you,” she panted.
I had our clothes off in record time. Scooting to the center of the bed, she watched me tear open the condom. I was about to hand it over and ask if she wanted to do the honors when she blurted, “I’m on the pill.”
Clearing the surprise from my throat, I tried for something casual. “Why?”
“It keeps my periods regular. One accident in a light pink leotard and you learn your lesson.” She swallowed hard when I didn’t say anything. “I can show you the package if you don’t believe me.”
I blinked. Did she actually think my hesitation had something to do with her?
Even knowing that this conversation was going to put a serious damper on our afternoon playtime didn’t keep me from easing on top of her.
“I’d like nothing more than to feel you skin to skin. But I need…” My throat closed, trapping the rest of the thought where it belonged. Away from Gelsey.
Cupping my cheek, she asked softly, “What do you need?” As if it were something she could give me.
“A test. To make sure I’m clean.”
She flinched. “Oh…I…yeah…”
“I’ve never, ever had sex without protection,” I was quick to add. “I mean, not in the last six years.”
Why I’d chosen to reveal that little nugget was beyond me. Any hope that she’d let it slide faded away when she dropped her hand.
“So before, when you were on the road with your band, you weren’t safe?”
A denial coiled around my tongue, but the truth was quicker, darting around the lump in my throat and flying past my lips. “I had a girlfriend.”
The declaration stole the air from my lungs. In all the years Paige and I were together, I’d never described her in those terms.
Gelsey’s expression softened, and she hooked her leg around mine, urging me to continue.
I managed a shallow breath. “Paige. My bandmate. She was my…”
Everything. Past tense. But I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Whatever small flicker of us remained, in the music or in my memory, would always belong to her.
“The redhead?” Gelsey offered in a whisper, like she knew it was a secret.
“Uh-huh.”
She pressed a kiss to my lips. “I’m so sorry, Miles.”
I tried for a smile. “It was a long time ago. And it was complicated.”
Her own smile was luminescent, if not a little sad. “All great loves are complicated. That’s what makes them great.”
Curving a hand around my nape, she guided me to her neck.
And for once, there was no crushing weight on my shoulders. No urge to run. And no need to hurry.
Gelsey’s knees fell open to accommodate me when my mouth found its way back to hers.
“You’re so beautiful,” I said against her lips.
Soft thighs molded to my ribs. And she smiled.
“Show me.”
Gelsey
The studio cleared out quickly after our first four-hour rehearsal. The first of many.
There’s a point in the preparations for every show where we all put petty differences aside to achieve a common goal. In this case a perfect performance. And we’d just hit it.
Dropping onto the floor with a groan, I began my abbreviated stretching routine.
“You feel like grabbing a late lunch?”
Pausing with my fingers curled around the toe of my pointe shoe, I looked up at Micha. Over the last week, we’d settled into an awkward alliance. He’d stopped trying to drop me on my head, and I’d refrained from muttering under my breath.
But sharing a meal? We hadn’t done that in years.
“Me?” I asked warily.
Rolling his eyes, Micha held out his hand to help me up. “Yeah, you. Don’t make it weird, Gels.”
But it was weird. Why was he being so nice to me?
“I’m busy this afternoon,” I said as I wobbled to my feet. “Raincheck?”
He shrugged, casual as can be. “Sure.”
To my surprise, he followed me over to the bench. While I took a seat and stared down at my shoes, psyching myself up for what I needed to do, he plopped down in front of me and stripped off his shirt. After donning a hoodie he’d plucked from his bag, he let out a sigh.
“You’re such a baby,” he said with a smile. “Let’s see what you got hiding in there.”
Before I could say a word, he gently took my foot and rested it on his leg.
“I can get it,” I said through gritted teeth as he untied the ribbon from my ankle.
Secretly I was grateful I didn’t have to do the honors. And of course, he knew it. Because I’d never been good at this part.
“How bad is the pain?” he asked.
I lifted a shoulde
r. “Five.”
He raised a brow. “That means eight.”
Gripping the edge of the bench, I pressed my lips together as he peeled off the shoe. “See,” he said. “That wasn’t so bad.”
With a weak nod, I crunched over to inspect the damage. But Micha beat me to it.
“You’re not wrapping these piggies tight enough,” he observed as he carefully unwound the bloody gauze from between my toes.
“Too restricting,” I said through a labored breath. “And you should be wearing gloves.”
He reached for the other foot. “Why, did Cooper give you a disease?”
It took me a beat to register the insult. By that time, he’d tightened his grip. “Sorry, Gels. That was out of line.”
His tone hinted at true remorse. And since I was the bigger person, I wouldn’t be the one to break our truce. Not over this.
“You don’t even know him,” I said wearily. “So keep your comments to yourself.”
I braced for the witty retort. The one-off. Even if Micha was trying to be good, the last word always belonged to him.
After a moment of silence, my shoulders relaxed, but I kept my guard up.
Micha grabbed a plastic bag from his duffel and handed it over. While I fished out a couple of toe pads, he sprayed rose water on my fresh blisters.
“Is it serious with Cooper?” He flicked his gaze to mine as he dabbed the excess moisture off my skin with a cotton ball.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. But since I’m leaving soon, we’re only…”
Temporary.
Miles’s conversation with Emily looped in my head. It wasn’t even the word that tripped me up. But the look in his eyes when he’d said it.
Temporary.
I didn’t realize I’d let my mind wander until I felt Micha scrutinizing me.
“We’re good friends,” I finished with a too bright smile. “He means a lot to me.”
Nodding, Micha busied himself with the Band-Aids. “Do you ever think about us? What would’ve happened if…”
There was no way for him to finish the thought without looking like a total asshole. Because we both knew how it ended.
If you hadn’t gotten hurt.
Like I’d had a choice.
“No.”
My voice sounded too small for such a big truth. I didn’t think about Micha anymore. Ever.
“Me neither.” He sighed. “That’s a good thing, though. Since we’ll probably be sharing a room in New York.”
I wiggled my toes, trying to break the new bandage in. “I’m sure we can spring for two hotel rooms.”
He went to work on my other foot. “I’m talking about when we move there, not when we visit.”
I froze. “What do you mean?”
“Seriously?” He snorted softly as he removed the tape binding my arch. “Haven’t you listened when Ivan talks about how it is for the apprentices? They group us together by the Company of origination. At least for the first season.”
I shook my head, my stomach a churning pit. “No. That’s only in Europe.”
It struck me now why he was being so nice. Conciliatory. We were going to be stuck together. Likely in a room the size of a postage stamp.
For a year.
“You can request a private room,” he added as he ran his thumb over another blister. “For two grand extra a month. Since neither of us has that kind of dinero, I guess we’ll have to make the best of it.”
He looked up, hand still curved around my foot, and I nodded automatically, schooling my features into something that wouldn’t give away the repulsion I felt.
A season? With Micha?
It would only take him a hot minute to charm the apprentice ballerinas. Then he’d give up the act of trying to be my friend and show me to the door anytime he had “company” in our joined room. Not that I cared who he hooked up with.
“Micha, are you sure—”
My words caught deep in my throat when the door creaked open. Expecting to find Ivan or maybe Olga, my heart stuttered when I met smoldering brown eyes.
Miles’s focus shifted to Micha’s hand, still locked around my foot.
Jerking out of my dance partner’s grip, I offered a frozen smile.
“Miles. We were just…”
It didn’t matter what I said, not right then, so I clamped my mouth shut. Miles’s features smoothed into the mask he wore in public. But I could feel his irritation from across the room, little sparks dancing over my skin.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
When I nodded, he stalked over and grabbed my bag while I quickly shoved my feet into soccer sandals.
Miles waited until Micha stood up to crowd into his space.
“I know what your game is, dude. You missed your shot, and I get it. I’d be pissed too. So I’ll give you one pass,” he snarled, holding up a finger. “One. But touch her again, and I promise you won’t be so lucky.”
Miles
He touched her.
And she let him.
Anger sizzled up my spine, propelling me out of the studio, down the hall, and into the early afternoon sunshine.
I didn’t realize Gelsey wasn’t behind me until I tossed her bag into the bed of my truck.
As I turned back to the building, I caught a glimpse of the empty parking lot. A perfect metaphor of what I had to look forward to.
Sinking onto the lift gate, a dry chuckle rumbled low in my chest. An existential crisis. Sheppard would be proud. He’d take it as a sign that my creativity was alive and well.
You’re feeling. That’s a good thing.
Fuck that.
I didn’t want to feel. That’s what medication was for. Only, nothing dulled my reaction to Gelsey. She was too bright. Too vivid. Color in a black-and-white world.
And I couldn’t keep her.
Letting my head fall back, I gripped my thigh and pain shot down my leg.
Let it go, bud.
Why was it that whenever my fucked-up brain conjured a voice of reason it wasn’t mine? Like I’d be more receptive if the good advice came courtesy of Rhenn’s slow, southern drawl.
When I heard footsteps, I tore my attention from the sky and found Gelsey walking gingerly across the blacktop. Releasing the death grip on my thigh, I sat back, my weight on one palm. My leg continued to pulse in time with my erratic heartbeat as she hoisted herself onto the lift gate beside me.
“Warning Micha against touching me is kind of a waste of time since he’s my dance partner.” She smoothed her thumb over my brow and frowned. “Ask me, Miles.”
Despite my lingering anger, I leaned into her touch. “Ask you what?”
“Anything you want.”
Looping my arm around her upper thighs, I hauled her legs over mine with a sigh. My stomach twisted when I noticed the bandages on her toes and all the bruises marring her skin.
Slipping off her sandal, I found a spot on the ball of her foot with no blisters.
“Where’s your family at?” I asked as I lightly massaged the area.
She blinked at me. “Why would you ask me about that?”
I chuckled. “You said anything. But I’m guessing you wanted the questions limited to that douchebag?” She followed my line of sight to Micha, striding to his BMW, phone pressed to his ear. “No thanks. I already know his story.”
Her head swiveled back to me. “What do you know?”
“Well, the boy’s got a thing for you. Probably wanted to swipe your cherry.” I shrugged. “Probably tried. Anyway, I don’t fucking care about him. He may have known you longer, but he doesn’t know you better. He’s never seen you smile in your sleep. Or felt you from the inside.”
She caught me in those liquid blue eyes and held on tight but didn’t say a word.
After a moment, I slid her sandal back on. “You ready to go?”
She nodded, and I helped her to her feet.
Once we were inside the truck, Gelsey let out a little gasp as she plucked the ti
ssue paper flower from the dashboard. It was intricate, with leaves and a stem I’d fashioned from a cocktail straw. I smiled when she brought it to her nose.
“It’s not real, baby.”
She flushed pink, setting the bloom in her lap. “It’s better. Because you made it. What kind of flower is it?”
“African violet.”
Her finger whispered over the petals. “No one’s ever given me flowers.”
The girl was so easy to please. Shaking my head, I made a mental note to contact the florist as I fished my keys from my pocket.
“My grandma was a ballet coach in St. Petersburg,” she said quietly. I turned to look at her, but she was focused on the flower. “She came here when my mom was five, after my grandfather passed away. She never accepted my mom’s decision to quit dancing, and I think she blamed me and my dad. When I was nine, I overheard her tell my mom that I didn’t have the talent to dance on the big stage.” The column of her throat bobbed, and she squinted as if reliving a physical pain. “Even though I believed it, I tried harder. So I guess in some ways she’s responsible for any of my future success.”
Biting back a protest, I took her hand. “Where is she now?”
“She went back to Russia after my mom died. She said she had nothing keeping her here.” Her eyes found mine for a second. “Ivan’s the only one who has ever stuck around.”
“Your coach?”
“Uchitel. My teacher.” Her gaze wandered to the facade of the building, eyes tracing all the bricks and glass. “He built this place into what it is. I’m going to miss it.”
Her lips bent into that smile she wore whenever she spoke about New York or her future. But for the first time I saw something besides excitement. Wishful thinking.
You can’t keep her.
But I could. For two more months, she was mine. And we had better things to do with our time than visiting the past.
I brought her hand to my lips for a kiss.
“Let’s get out of here. I’m starving.”
Gelsey slanted her gaze to mine, pouting. “I don’t get it. How do you remember all this stuff?”
Forlorn, she looked back at all the colored paper littering the bed.
I’d been trying for two hours to teach her how to make a basic origami flower, with little luck. But I didn’t care. She was positioned between my legs, mostly naked, so I’d sit here all night if she wanted.