In the Air (7 page)

Without saying a word, I placed my hands in hers and felt her fingers trembling around mine. I could tell she was nervous. Was she thinking about last night, too? A loud huff exited Natalia's mouth and answered my question. By the look in her eyes, it was clear that last night was replaying in her mind. I could practically feel the animosity rolling off of her.

Madame Dampier walked around the room, critiquing everyone's stance. As she came upon us, she smiled in approval and continued on.

We must look good together.

The minutes passed quickly, dancing with Natalia. It felt very different than what I was used to. My past partners were stiff, their talent always lacking. When I watched Natalia dance last night, I knew why she had made it into Juilliard. Her movements were so skilled, and the graceful way she illustrated them was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. When she finished, she exuded the confidence of a professional. She knew she deserved to be here, much like how I felt. Maybe Natalia and I had more in common than I thought.

I was itching to talk to her about last night, but I didn't know what to say to make the situation less awkward. I could make a joke and ask her about her sore ass, but I knew it would probably piss her off even more. I clearly put the moves on her, kissing her and then pulling back. The chemistry I shared with Natalia amazed me. Every time she was around, I felt the need to better myself. When my lips touched hers, every part of my body burned from the effect. I'd never felt that kind of heat in my life.

"I ... I'm sorry." I studied her face closely. Her light brown eyes set on mine, hopeful. I knew as I continued, the hope would be lost. "I didn't mean to run away last night, but what I did, well, it shouldn't have happened." All the optimism in her eyes faded.

"Don't be sorry. You're right, it shouldn't have happened." Her tone was short.

I exhaled loudly as my hand squeezed tighter at her side. The anger fell from Natalia's face with the pressure of my hand. She shut her eyes, clearly holding something back. As I opened my mouth to speak, Madame Dampier dismissed the class. I had so much more to say to Natalia, but she left without glancing back. I had a feeling she needed the space between us just as much as I did. Since I was still confused about last night, I needed to get away from her to figure out what it all meant. Why did I let myself kiss her?

I grabbed my gym bag from the front of the studio and heard a voice I didn't recognize over my shoulder.

"You don't look like Juilliard material today."

I looked up at the mirror in front of me, and saw Natalia's friend behind me.

"Listen, I don't have time for any bullshit right now." I threw my gym bag over my shoulder and started to leave.

"My bullshit? By the looks of you this morning, I'd say you belong at an AA meeting, not Juilliard."

I turned to her with a look of repulsion. "I don't know who the hell you think you are or why you think you know anything about me, but you need to back off," I demanded. I turned away from her and walked through the auditorium, but she followed, heavy on my heels.

"My name is Kingsley. I'm Natalia's roommate."

I stopped, turning back to her. "I care because ... ?" My journey to the elevator continued.

"I can see the way she looks at you. She gets serious bedroom eyes," she called out.

Kingsley's admission made me stop walking. Suddenly, I was interested in what she had to say. "You've been rooming together now for what, two whole days? What could she have possibly told you about me in such a short time?" Trying to hide my curiosity, I added, "I'm sure you have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know that look when I see it." Her lips perked up, showing a devious grin.

"I bet you do," I said as I motioned to her half-naked body. "I'm sure you give that look often." My head was throbbing, and listening to this girl's voice made it feel as if it were about to detonate. I walked through the elevator doors and Kingsley rushed in before the doors closed. "Why are you following me?" I looked at her, noticing the similarity in our heights, and waited for her answer.

"Don't be so full of yourself. I have somewhere to be."

The elevator descended to the first floor in silence. I was thankful the altercation had ended. I exited, Kingsley still trailing behind me.

The weather outside was warm for September and the mugginess intensified my hangover. I spotted Natalia standing near the building and headed in her direction.

"Natalia, please tell your friend to stop following me like a lost puppy."

Natalia looked at us both, unimpressed, and started walking away.

"Seriously, you're not going to help me out?" I yelled after her.

Natalia turned around and looked at me, daggers shooting from her eyes. I was surprised my body didn't collapse from the effect. "Help you out? Here's a tip: your pants are too tight. It gives the wrong impression, and since you're already a ballet dancer, you're going to start turning the wrong heads."

Kingsley cackled wildly after hearing Natalia's response and walked away.

I groaned. "Can we talk?" The hurt on Natalia's face was apparent. I stepped a little closer to her to bridge the distance.

"We already tried that in class. It's not getting us anywhere," she responded.

"I just want to make sure we're okay."

The laugh she gave was not pleasant.

"We're great." I noted the sarcasm pouring from her.

I stepped forward to reach for her arm, but she backed away. "Are you okay?"

"If you're referring to my ass, it's bruised, but I'm fine." Her tone remained short.

"Natalia, I already told you that I'm not good at apologies and I just don't want you to think that it was something more than it was. We had a moment and I couldn't control myself." Excuses rolled off my tongue. I hoped they weren't transparent or else she'd hear that I didn't want to pull away. I wanted the kiss to last all night. My lips still stung from the electricity I felt when they were pressed to hers.

"Nice, Samson. I really have to go. Let's just keep our conversations limited to our rehearsals. Okay?"

I watched her walk out of sight and knew I had just made the situation worse. I'd never met a girl that got under my skin so quickly. I didn't like the way she seeped into my pores and set up camp in my head. I needed to come up with a way to halt all of these emotions before the situation got out of hand.

After the conversation with Natalia, I needed to sleep off the frustration that was growing inside me.

Just as I stepped into my dorm room, my phone began to vibrate. Looking down at the screen, I contemplated not answering Aubrey's call. Her smiling face filled the screen and remorse filled my body. I took a deep breath and answered, preparing myself for the next several minutes.

"Hey, Aubs." Silence. I looked down to make sure I had pressed the right button. Nothing. "Are you there?" My room was dimly lit, the curtains still drawn from last night.

"I shouldn't be," she answered quietly. "But if I waited for you to call me, we'd never talk."

"It's been a really long morning, Aubrey. Can we not do this right now?" I removed everything but my pants and wrapped the sheets around my exhausted body.

"I'm calling to let you know that I'll be in New York this weekend. My father is having a benefit. You know how I don't like to let Daddy down, so I expect you to be there with me." I didn't understand why Aubrey continued to call him "Daddy," considering she was older than twelve.

"Can I get back to you about this? My head is killing me and I need some rest before my next class." Knowing I'd possibly see Aubrey's father this weekend didn't help.

"If you didn't drink so much, you wouldn't get headaches all of the time." Aubrey nagged. If we were having this conversation face to face, she would have her arms crossed and her feet tapping loudly on the hardwood floors.

"Look, I don't drink
so much
."

"If you say so, Samson. Get back to me within the next few hours about this weekend."

"I'll call you later. Enjoy –" I heard a click. Once again, silence. My girlfriend had become the Queen of Hang-ups.

Every woman I've come in contact with these past few days is sucking the life out of me.

Before I drifted into a deep sleep, I remembered dancing with Natalia. Her movements had a way of manipulating so much emotion out of me. If she only knew how much control she actually had, she could easily have me begging just to be near her.

What a fucktard. I mean, who comes to class hung over on the second day?

After the confrontation with Samson this morning, I'd decided to make my night an enjoyable one. I really needed to get away from all of the pretentious assholes at Juilliard, so later that evening, I hopped on the train and headed to more familiar surroundings. It felt good to be back on my stomping grounds, even though I'd only been away for a couple days. Tonight, I had on my red "fuck me" skirt, my black bustier top, and my favorite leopard print high-heeled boots. To most people, I was sure I looked like a streetwalker, but I'd never given a shit about what people thought of me.

When I walked into The Commodore, the best bar in Brooklyn, I saw my favorite bartender manning the bar. He made the best drinks and because he wanted me, he made mine extra strong.

"Well, if it isn't Kingsley in the flesh. I haven't seen you around these parts in awhile." Brad looked me up and down, mesmerized by what he saw. He'd been trying to get into my pants ever since he first laid eyes on me two years ago.

"I started school a few days ago. It's crushing my soul." As usual, the bar was packed, and I grabbed one of the last stools near the end of the bar. "I need a shot."

I started coming to this bar when I was sixteen. Young, I know, but I had a lot of older friends.

The first time I showed my fake ID to Brian, the doorman, he looked at me and started laughing. "This is obviously fake, but since you're hot and will probably attract some customers, I'll let you in. Don't make me regret this."

My beautiful relationship with the bar grew from that day forward.

"Jameson?" Brad held up my favorite brand of whiskey. When it came to liquor, he knew exactly what I liked.

It was only 11 P.M., but the bar was packed from wall to wall. After my third shot, my soul reappeared. With liquor in my system and the high I got from the music blaring from the speakers, the day's stress vanished quickly.

"Hey, pretty thing. Can I have your name?" A voice asked from behind. I could already tell by his lame pick-up line that he wasn't going to be a looker. I turned in my barstool and saw that I was right.

"Why? Don't you have your own?" I asked, annoyed. I started to turn back around, but he grabbed my arm.

"Sassy and beautiful. Where have you been all my life?" With the way this man was slurring his speech. I hoped Brad had already cut him off.

"Hiding from you." My eyes stared icily into his. "If you don't let go of my arm, I will remove it. For good." I angled my eyebrow up at him, daring him.

His grey eyes glossed over as he looked at me scornfully. "Well, aren't you a rude young lady?"

"If I throw a stick, will you leave?" With my question, the sorry bastard accepted defeat and walked away with his tail between his legs.

"Nice way to deal with an asshole. Maybe you should write a book."

The voice was gorgeous. I detected an accent, but couldn't pinpoint it. I turned to my left and saw a guy, leaning against the bar. His hair was dark, almost black, neatly styled, reminding me of the 50's. He had tattoos peeking out from under his shirt. I was practically salivating.

"Maybe I should. Only if you promise to buy the first copy." Biting my lip seductively, I waited for him to look up at me. When he finally did, his eyes were dark and mysterious.

"Would you autograph it for me? Write a special note inside?" His smile widened when he took me in. His eyes traveled up my legs, over my chest, and finally onto my lips. When our eyes locked for the second time, a tremor ran through me.
I wish there was a fan nearby. I need to cool myself off.

"Anything you want." I licked my lips slowly, which attracted his gaze.