Release (9 page)

I put my phone away and push
Dane Sinclair, and all men, out of my head.

I push open the studio door and enter, ready to teach
my Thursday lunchtime advanced Pilates class. “I’m sorry for the delay,” I say,
trying not to be too flustered.

I see their responding
smiles through the mirror as I approach the front, and return the friendly
gesture. They were made aware of the flood in the ladies toilets and that I was
the only staff member here until ten minutes ago. A couple of them were even
nice enough to help me out.

Standing before the group, I
proceed with screening them for injuries, illnesses, and pregnancies. We limit
this class to ten people in order to provide a better quality session. Dancers
from
Release
and members of the public attend, it’s always full and
today’s no different. The words leave my mouth with ease. I’m so used to saying
them they’re imprinted on my memory. But I’m impressed with my ability to
conduct this part in my usual manner – when there’s a tall, black guy standing
at the back of the room dressed in a fitted, white sleeveless T-shirt and navy
running shorts, looking like something off the front page of a fitness
magazine.

What the fuck is Dane doing
here?

I’d never usually ignore a
participant, but that’s exactly what he gets as I start the class.

Somehow, I teach without
acknowledging Dane, but with the full awareness that he is in the room and all
the details surrounding him; my mind racing through reasons why he’s here, my
participants giving full appreciation to the mirror image of him – they’re
making no secret of it, either. On top of all that, it’s clear to me he’s never
stepped foot in a Pilates class before. You only have to look at him to know
he’s probably an expert in the free-weights area of a gym, but that bears no
relation to what I do.

We perform several exercises
and as I guide the group into the open leg rocker, which is performed on the
mat, my irritation begins to peak. Dane can’t hold the move very well, and it’s
making me look bad. I get up as gracefully as I can, with the level of
frustration I’m containing, and walk over to him. Thankfully he’s positioned
himself away from the others.

As I approach, he releases
his legs and lowers his head onto the mat. His expression is expectant. If he’s
reading mine correctly, he’ll know he’s unwelcome. I kneel beside him and get
close enough to prevent anyone else hearing me. Keeping my teeth gritted, I
say, “You’re making me look bad.”

His brows pull tight. “I’m
making
you
look bad? Not only am I the only guy here, but I’m the most
inflexible person in this room. I’ll handle all the core exercises you wanna
throw at me, but my hamstrings can only be pushed so far. You really don’t need
to be the one concerned about looking bad.”

He folds his inked arms
behind his head, combining the look of a bad boy and a Calvin Klein underwear
model on a billboard to perfection. I dislike him even more for looking so good
when I’m this angry. I can imagine him in this very pose wearing nothing but
briefs.

“You’re making me look bad
because I’m not helping you and I should be.”

“So help me then.”

“I don’t want to. No
offence, but I’d actually like you to piss off.”

“Piss off meaning go away?”
I nod, meaning it. “Shit, girl, you really are a feisty thang, aren’t you?” He
doesn’t even seem offended.

“I have a job to do.”

I stand up and walk back to
the front of the class, and proceed as though Dane isn’t present. He stays for
the whole fucking session.

After I bid farewell to the
final participant, I pause for a moment, preparing myself, and then turn to
face Dane. He strides towards me, and I make a point of not taking in a single
detail about his appearance, though I’m fully aware of how out of this world he
looks.

“Why are you here?” I ask
without being too hostile. I don’t want this to get aggressive.

“I wanted to apologize.” He
stops beside me and leans sideways against the wall with his arms folded across
his chest.

With the subtle drop of his
shoulders, this is the worst posture I’ve seen on him. Maybe I’m being sucked
in here, but he looks like he means it. The focus in his gaze, as it meets
mine, and the almost humble air about him suggests so.

I’ve been on the receiving
end of many apologies and never seen the sincerity I’m witnessing now. But
that’s not the point, is it?

“No apology necessary. You
said it yourself; we’re looking for different things. At least we didn’t waste
too much of each other’s time.”

I can smell him, the
non-artificial scent he owns, and I wish to God I couldn’t.

After walking away from Dane
yesterday, I was able to block him out of my thoughts completely. I woke up
today feeling the way I did all the mornings before I met him. Seeing him now
makes me uncomfortable because, even though I think he’s a knob, I’m still
ridiculously drawn to him. I can pretend he doesn’t exist when he isn’t around
me. Not so easy when we’re face-to-face. The sooner he leaves the better.

“I meant what I said. I
wasn’t out to play games.”

“What am I supposed to say
to that? There’s no point in us even discussing it. I’m having trouble
understanding why you’d come to my class just to say sorry, and why you’d put
me in an awkward position by showing up unannounced.”

“I had no other way of
contacting you, and I figured you’d be more likely to talk to me this way than
if I showed up after. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel awkward, that
didn’t even cross my mind. More importantly, I really am sorry for the
pussy-ass way I dealt with things. You deserved better than that, but for some
reason I didn’t know how to tell you. It’s not something I usually find hard to
do.”

“Be careful, you’ll have me
thinking dropping women who aren’t going to shag you is a full-time habit of
yours. Or I might even be stupid enough to consider myself something special
because for once you found it difficult.” I finished sarcastically so he
doesn’t think I really am that stupid.

I doubt the words ‘woman’
and ‘special’ fit into the same sentence for guys like Dane.

His brows rise briefly
before drawing together in a frown. “It’s not as cold as that. Yeah, I tell it
how it is from the start, but I’m not a jerk about it. I’m not trying to make
myself sound like I’m all that, but most of the time it isn’t a problem.

“On Tuesday it was so
obvious you’re not the type of woman I usually hang with, the whole thing
seemed pointless. I have enough platonic female friends already, Brooklyn, I’m
not looking for any others and since I can barely talk to you without getting
hard we’d never make good friends, anyway.”

I shrug, casually. “Fine, I
don’t think we’d make good friends, either. I have plenty of platonic male
friends as it is as well. At least we’ve cleared things up. I’d like you to
leave now.”

“I’d like to see you again,”
he says, his gaze burning into mine.

“This is all starting to
sound like a load of bollocks. Translated; rubbish – or rather, absolute crap!
It’s pointless but you want to see me again.”

“I said it
seemed
pointless. Maybe it still is. I’m not all that certain. The one thing I am sure
of is that I want to see you again.”

I stare at him wordlessly.
He meant that. Or he’s an expert liar.

I lean back against the wall
and gaze sideways at him. “I didn’t want anything from you, you know? I had no
expectations, Dane. I didn’t rock up on Monday looking for a boyfriend – I
simply wanted to get to know you. The two things I was positive about were that
if you
only
wanted to get me into bed I wouldn’t be bothering with you
again, and
you
wouldn’t bother with me if that’s all you were interested
in and you came to realize it wouldn’t be that way.

“The main reason I came back
on Tuesday was because I thought you’d be honest with me, and I’d always know
where I stand with you. I got you wrong.”

“No you didn’t. My actions
sure as shit won’t give you reason to believe otherwise, but you didn’t get me
wrong, Brooklyn.

“I haven’t even had you once
and I already want you again. I knew that from the first night in the bar, just
like I knew you wanted me too. And you know what, on Monday when you told me
you don’t just fuck, it wasn’t even necessary because that was apparent after
you spent almost as much time watching me on Saturday night as I did you, and
you still left without so much as a glance my way. It’s one of the reasons I
didn’t follow you out of the place. If I wasn’t interested in getting to know
you we never would’ve exchanged a single word after I concluded that. I
wouldn’t have approached you at Baker Beach.

“All the stuff I’ve asked
you, about your family and career, was genuine. I wasn’t faking interest just
to get you into my bed. None of this even makes sense to me, Brooklyn, but I’m
not too interested in trying to figure it out. I just want you to give me
another chance.

“Look, I need to get back to
work,” he holds his hands up, “no bullshit this time, I really do. Fuck, I
can’t believe I played it like that,” he says to himself, tucking his hands
into his pockets. He sighs. “Will you see me on Saturday, after your show?”

“I’m going to a club with
Kayla,” I lie. It was of course true, until she finally agreed to go out with
Chase.

“Let me give you my cell
number, then. I won’t ask you for yours, if you call me then I’ll have it. This
right here is in your hands. Although, I can’t say I won’t pull some weird shit
like showing up in your class or happening to be outside the theater after your
show if you don’t call me.”

A giggle escapes me before I
can stop it. “Please do not come to my class again. This is the only group
session I do, and as you discovered for yourself, it’s advanced.”

“Maybe I need some
one-on-one Pilates then.” How someone can look so serious when they’re clearly
teasing I do not know.

“I don’t have time for extra
clients, not with the show and my own training.”

Even though I’m teasing
back, I’m also serious. I’m too busy, I won’t waste the free time I do have.
I’ve also got to put a lot more thought into seeing Dane than I did the last
time. Not conversations with friends, just me, my head, and an overdose of
common sense and anything else that’ll help me make the right decision.

“I’ll think about calling
you. I need to clarify a few things for myself,” I tell him.

“I can’t really ask for more
than that.”   

I’m playing pool with Joe; we’re both on the
eight-ball, so it could go either way. We always give each other good
competition, but he’s 3-2 up, and I refuse to lose this game.

Gerard is sitting at a table
with a brunette. I am ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain he’ll be fucking
her by midnight. It’s nine-fifteen now. The chick he’s with has two friends
with her. They were already here when we arrived, and it’s the first time I’ve
seen any of them. I don’t like this set up; three of them and three of us. Joe
has no interest, so he’s not getting involved, but that doesn’t stop it looking
like a balanced arrangement. I’m a little paranoid about it; I feel like
everywhere I go there’s somebody who knows me, somebody who’ll talk.

Who the hell goes from not
giving a shit what people think or say about them to feeling uncomfortable in
an innocent situation like this in the space of a week?

I can’t even remember the
last time I felt paranoid. Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever have. Not
beyond losing my fucking virginity, anyway.

I haven’t been oblivious to
the girlfriends checking Joe and me out in what they think is a discrete way.
The Asian girl on the left is my kind of cute, too. If I wanted it, I’d be
fucking by midnight, but I’m sure that if Brooklyn hears I’m banging other
woman while trying to convince her to give me another shot she’ll tell me to –
in her own words – piss off! And she’ll mean it.

I get that there isn’t
anything going down between us, I’m still a free agent who can do what the hell
he wants, but if I fail with her it won’t be because of something I do
involving other women.

Fuck, my mental distractions
just lost me this game.

I put my cue along the bed
of the table. “I’m gonna bounce, man,” I say to Joe.

“Me too,” he says.

We wave over to Gerard, who
couldn’t give a shit if we stay or go. Leaving the bar, we walk in the
direction of my apartment building, which is where Joe’s motorcycle is. I zip
up my jacket, shielding myself against the night chill, and press my hands into
my pockets. There’s a slight drizzle, but not enough for me to give a damn
about.

“What’s up?” Joe asks, as he
zips up.

“I’m just not feeling this
tonight.”

“That’s not like you.”

“I can’t risk getting into
any shit.” His gaze moves to me, a furrow between his dark brows. “I know,” I
say, understanding his confusion. “I’m trying to get to know someone, and if
she hears new stuff about me it’ll fuck things up. That dance show I went to
for Saffron last weekend–dude, you cannot mention this to Adam or my sister.”
The problem with Adam is he tells his wife everything, and she does him. That’s
great for them, not so cool for me in situations like this. “I spoke to one of
the dancers.”

Joe laughs as he finger
combs his hair back from his eyes. “Now I get why Saff can’t know.”

We cross the intersection.
“We’ve done nothing more than talk. She’s all clued up on me.”

“What?”

“She’s friends with Kayla
and they share an apartment. Kayla’s told her a bunch of stuff about me and
warned her to stay away. Brooklyn still showed for breakfast with me on Monday.
I wasn’t even sure she would, but she did.”

“Breakfast?” he asks, a
single brow arching.

“I knew she’d probably say
no to anything else, so I came at her with that. Then on Tuesday when we met
again I told her I’d call. I said it knowing I didn’t have her number and with
no intention of following through.”

“
Duuude
, for real?
You been taking advice on women from Gerard or somethin’?”

“It’s fucked up, right? On
the first day she was cautious, which made sense with whatever Kayla told her.
But there was this determination about her, it was fucking hot. None of that
playing hard to get shit, she seemed like she really wanted to protect herself
and she had this awesome attitude. When we met on Tuesday, and we were talking,
I got to thinking she’s definitely the type who’ll want more from a guy then
she’ll get from me, and I didn’t want a messy situation on my hands again. I
couldn’t tell her that. She had this look in her eyes and something about it
threw me off balance. Then she came to the shop the next day and in a very
dignified manner told me I’m an asshole.”

Joe’s grinning like he wants
to laugh. “You’ve been called worse, though.”

“I could deal with the
asshole part – I was an asshole. She also said I humiliated her.
That
is
what made me feel like shit.”

“I’ve gotta say, man, it’s
not often I see you looking so guilty. You know you need to say something to
Saffron before you get busted, right? If this chick’s pissed and she’s friends
with Kayla, Saff’ll hear about it.”  

“I know she will. I’ll say
something to her soon, but I wanna make sure things are cool with Brooklyn
first.”

“How cool do you expect
things to be if she thinks you’re an asshole?”

“That’s a good fucking
question.”

When I get home, and walk into my dark living room, it
hits me that this is the first Saturday in a long time that I’ve chosen to do
nothing. It’s only ten o’clock. I don’t bother putting on the lights; I sit on
the sofa and turn on the TV, letting that illuminate the place. Flipping
through the channels, I come across the movie remake of ‘Shaft’ and leave it
there. My Saturday night in with Samuel L.
Motherfucking!
Jackson
.

As I watch, my mind wanders.
Maybe I should tell Saffron about Brooklyn sooner rather than later. She’ll be
pissed with me if she finds out from anyone else. Kayla might see her before I
speak to Brooklyn and say something. Or Ella. Shit, I didn’t think of Ella.
Kayla’s good friends with Ella. Ella’s good friends with Saffron. Dammit, that
didn’t even cross my mind. Where the fuck has my head been at? Girls talk. In
my mind, they tell each other everything.

It’s ten thirty-eight, Saff
should still be up. I reach for my cell on the coffee table and it starts to
ring before I touch it. I consider not answering, because I don’t know who it
is, but do anyway. “Hello?”

“Hi,” the sweet British
voice says. I mute the TV. “Is it an okay time to talk?” She sounds shy.

“Sure, yeah, what’s up? How
was your show tonight?”

“It was excellent. Full
house again, everything went as it should.”

“Good, that’s good. So you
decided to call me. Does this mean you’re gonna give me the chance to get to
know you better.”

“I think so.”

“I want you to
know
so, Brooklyn.”

“Okay. Yes. I’d like to get
to know you better, and you’re welcome to get to know me better.”

“I get that I fucked up your
impression of me, but I won’t be anything other than honest with you from here
on out.”

“That’s the only expectation
I have of you, Dane. I’m not out to delve into what makes you the kind of man
who doesn’t want a relationship and become the woman who is your savior, the
one who changes you. I don’t believe life works that way. People change their
course when they’re ready to, it’s more about the timing, and those around them
aren’t the ones that steer it, they simply support it. That’s just my opinion,
though. I’m not going to hold anything against you. The slates clean, you get
one more chance.

“Since we’re on the topic of
honesty, you should probably know that I’m not sure what I want right now, or
if I’m even ready to get involved with anyone. And, regardless of that, we are
still two people who do things differently – in my case that’s not something
that’s going to change.”

“As I said on Thursday,
maybe this is pointless. I don’t know for sure, you don’t know for sure,
whatever. I still wanted you to call. You wanted to call, or you wouldn’t be.
Tell me something, though, Brooklyn. Picking up on what you just said about
being ready, was your vigilance toward me because of what Kayla said, or
because of what some other guy did to you?”

“My last relationship didn’t
end well, how many do? I can’t say it didn’t play a part, but it was mainly
because someone I trust advised me to keep my distance and even though I
understood why, I still showed up on Monday morning. Usually I’d say, “Fuck
him, he can get lost.” And that would be the end of it. I didn’t make it to
that place with you, which I don’t understand, so I had to at least keep my
guard up. This is all out of the ordinary for me.”

“So we’re both doing things
out of the ordinary, then.”

“It seems so. It’s quite
crazy. Since we’re still flirting with the topic of honesty, have you actually
had relationships before?”

“Yes, I have.”

“But your preference is to
be single?”

“Yes, it is.” I can’t lie. I
won’t lie.

“This is definitely crazy,
then. Am I right in suspecting that it wasn’t just a coincidence that you left
on Tuesday right after we spoke about love, even though it was in reference to
Release
?
Did I look all dreamy and scare you into thinking I might fall in love with
you, or that I’d live in the hope of you falling in love with me? Or
shock
horror
that
you
actually
would
fall for
me
– the last
part was a joke, by the way. I’m definitely not that deluded.”  

Who the fuck wouldn’t laugh
at the way she said that? I sure am. Holy shit.

“I already knew you weren’t
the type to pretend to play hard to get, and your caution was real, but damn,
girl, you really did put some thought into calling me, didn’t you?”

“I had to. I’m not stealing
your line, but I don’t play games. I wasn’t playing it cool for three days
knowing all along that I’d call you.”

“Shit.” This woman is
something else. I don’t know what the hell else to say about her. “For sure you
looked like you’re down with the whole love thing – dreamy as you call it. It’s
inevitable that when two people who want different things start spending time
together – yeah I’m referring to sex – it doesn’t work so well. Sometimes sex
doesn’t even have to play a part, emotions exist with or without it, and I
didn’t want to take the chance of you getting hurt. I still don’t, but I want
to spend time with you also. Maybe I’m a selfish piece of shit who wants it all
his way. I don’t even know what the fuck any of this means, Brooklyn.”

“That’s fine. I don’t
either.”

“So I thought you had plans
with Kayla tonight.” Moving on to lighter stuff.

“Something came up for her.
I just came straight home.”

“I don’t get it; going to a
club after your show. That’s pretty hard going, right?”

“We wouldn’t go if we didn’t
feel up to it, and it was more about the live music and cocktails. If we did
get the urge to dance, there’d be no choreographed routines or anything
strenuous. It does also help that we don’t have work tomorrow.”

I’d love to go dancing with
her. But would she? I guess there’s only one way to find out. “I wanna take you
dancing.” It wasn’t my intention to demand it like that, but whatever. That’s
what I want.

“Pardon me?” I think she’s
surprised. It’s hard to know for sure, but the raise in her voice makes me
think so.

“I wanna take you dancing.
Unless you’ve made plans with Kayla to go some other time, I’d like to take you
to that club myself.”

She giggles, and I’m pissed
I can’t see her face to get a true idea of her reaction, because she still
seems surprised and now she’s also finding something funny.

“Uh, no man who knows what I
do has ever asked me that.” So that’s it.

“Well, in your own words,
it’s not like we’d be dropping choreographed routines or anything strenuous. You’d
totally whoop my ass and I’m not down for that type of humiliation. Pilates was
bad enough.”

She laughs harder, it sounds
like she’s moved the cell away from her mouth. How could that possibly get on
my nerves? The louder she laughs the better.

“Okay. When?” Fuck me she
said that with a whole lot of ease.

“Next Saturday. I’ll swing by the theater and pick you
up.”

****

Because I didn’t get to call Saffron last night, I
decided to come to her house today. She opens the front door, her everyday
happy self.

I enter the large foyer.
This place is a real family home, even when Nathaniel and Jack, Joe’s two and a
half year old son, aren’t around. You feel it the minute you walk through the
door. Though the interior design is stylish, modern and open with white marble
floors and light green and white coloring the walls and rugs throughout,
there’s always evidence that children live here. It might be because a toy’s
been left on the floor, or a child’s blanket is draped over the sofa. If that
doesn’t tell you something, all the pictures hanging up will.

We head straight for the
living room where Nathaniel is occupied with an array of toy cars and
motorcycles. I join him. Kids provide a grown man with the perfect opportunity
to justifiably become a big ol’ kid.