The Ballerina & The Fighter (Book 1) (10 page)

BOOK: The Ballerina & The Fighter (Book 1)
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By the time the buzzer
downstairs went off, I had been awake for the last hour and a half. I’d gotten
dressed twenty minutes ago and had two cups of tea already. I was that excited
and anxious.
Maze.
Freaking Maze. The
one boy I regretted. The one who both repelled and attracted at the same time.
He was still beautiful to look at but the exterior was hard, too. And I never
forgot the fight that night, the raw brutality of it. Scared the shit outta me
and excited me at the same time. I’d never seen anything like it since. And
even though I asked him if I could see him fight, I was kinda glad I couldn’t
because I’d be dancing then. I was sure it would have the same affect on me,
like Maze, both a sense of exciting and repelling at the same time.

Yet in spite of all of that,
the attraction between us was still there, and still strong. I got to the
control panel and answered the door. “Yes.” Can’t be too careful, this was New
York.

“It’s Maze.”

I’d know that husky voice
anywhere. I opened the outside door for him and stepped back. I returned to my
room to grab my purse and add a little lip gloss, then went back out to the
main room to get a coat out of the hall closet. I turned and tossed the coat on
the couch but glanced up, Dante stepped out of his room, at least he had sweats
on. He’d been known to walk outta there buck nekked a time a two. The man had
no shame. It helped that he had a banging body. Although once he understood
there would only ever be friendship between us, he hadn’t gone in his natural
state around me again.

“Who’s at the door?” he
asked, then yawned.

“Go back to bed. It’s for
me.” Of course he didn’t pay me any attention; I hadn’t seen him since last
night so I could catch him up. He’d still been out when I got home. It had been
several months since I’d gone on a date and never this early in the morning. In
fact, Dante was well aware I never had a man sleep over, nor did I sleep out.
He yawned while he made his way over to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee,
just as the bell sounded at the front door.

I glanced in his direction
and frowned. “Be nice. It’s Maze, he’s taking me out for breakfast.”

He’d just taken a sip from
his cup but spilled the hot liquid over his bare chest at my announcement. I
opened the door; sure Maze could hear Dante cussing up a storm in the kitchen.
The smile that had graced Maze’s face turned into a frown once he realized I
was not alone when he stepped into the foyer and he spied the half naked man
making himself at home in my kitchen.

One night Dante and I had
gotten drunk and told each other something personal. I told him about Shelly’s
death and how I blamed myself and about Maze and how part of me blamed him,
too. So I pushed him away, but it was easy to do because he’d left the country.
Still Maze hadn’t tried very hard to stay connected either. Until now. Or was
he just visiting while he was in town and that’s all there would be?

Dante knew all about the
birthday and death day texts I got from Maze, too. Dante never left my side on
those days. He helped me make it through the darker moments, Dante and dance.

“Hey,” I said a little
nervous as I stepped back to let him in. “Let me just grab my coat.”

Maze’s gaze slid past me and
went right to Dante in the kitchen where it seemed glued. I turned around and
got my coat that I’d left over the couch. I did not want to stay in the same
room for long with these two. I didn’t trust Dante not to say something
smartass, and damned if I had any idea how Maze would respond. So I made the
introductions quick like. I held my hand toward Maze then waved it toward
Dante. “Maze this is my roommate, Dante. Dante, Maze.”

Dante raised his coffee mug
in Maze’s direction. “Whasup.”

Maze just looked at him then
at me then back at Dante and nodded in the way that guys do when they first met
each other and sized the other up. “Dancer right?” Maze asked.

“Yeah.”

Maze nodded again, narrowing
his eyes a little. “That’s cool man, saw you dance last night.”

Dante raised one eyebrow.
“Yeah. You were there?”

“Yep.” Maze glanced at me
again. “I wanted to see Ivy dance.”

“Hey, babe.” Christy walked
out of Dante’s room wearing one of his t-shirts, her nipples tented the shirt.
She stopped when she saw Maze. Her eyes traveled from his head to his boot clad
feet then slowly back up again.

Oh hell no! I stepped in to
her line of vision blocking Maze from her view. Christy could be such a skank.
“That’s Christy, she’s one of the core dancers in the company. Christy, Maze,
and we’ve got to go.” I grabbed Maze’s hand and practically dragged him outta
the place. I began to shut the door when I heard Dante call out, “Don’t forget
we have a rehearsal this afternoon.”

“No we don’t,” I called back
and slammed the door.

Maze and I walked side by
side to the elevator and got on. It didn’t evade my notice that he didn’t hold
my hand like he did last night. I lived on the forty-fifth floor so the
elevator ride took a minute, and the first few seconds were filled with silence
and me staring at the numbers as they counted down then stopped on the
thirtieth floor. The elevator door opened but no one got on. “Crap. At least it
will go straight from here and only stop in the lobby,” I offered.

“So, Dante’s not gay.”

I turned to look at him. “Ah
no. He’s bi.”

“Oh.”

“He says he’s an equal
opportunity dater.”

“So he likes females.” He
folded his arms over his chest.

I glanced over at him. His
gaze remained lifted as though he watched the numbers count down on the floors
like I had been. “Yep.”

“Did you two ever date?”

“No.” The elevator opened
just then and we stepped out. He walked beside me and took my hand. When we got
out to the sidewalk he raised his free hand and stopped a cab. He released my
hand to open the door for me and I got in and he got in behind me. Taking my
hand again he gave the cab an address in the lower east side of Manhattan. I
recognized the name of the place. I’d never been there but heard good things
about it.

“Are you seeing anyone?” I
asked.
Stupid, stupid.
Why did I even
ask? I didn’t want to know. But damn it he was holding my hand. He came to
watch me dance.

Maze turned to look at me and
smiled. “You. I’m seeing you.”

“Oh.” Well damn, I grinned.
What was I supposed to say to that?

“I hope you’re hungry.”

I squeezed his hand. “Yeah, I
try to eat breakfast most days because when I’m rehearsing it’s usually the
only real meal I get.

Breakfast was everything I
thought it would be, the food beat oatmeal and fruit any day. And Maze put the
carbs away, not sure where it went cause when he took his jacket off, his dark
grey Henley shirt plastered to his body outlining his physique. Which seemed
just as fine as when I’d last seen him. Cause from what I could see there was
not an ounce of fat on that body. As good as the food was the company was even
better. Everything I’d felt for Maze that summer came back tenfold. We talked,
but most of the time we just sat there and stared at each other or he’d caress
the back of my hand with his thumb. Finally, neither of us could eat another
bite and he paid the check. We left the restaurant and like last night, just
walked aimlessly on the sidewalk. And yeah he held my hand.

“So you really don’t have a
rehearsal later?”

“No. Dante was just trying to
give me an out if I needed it.”

He turned his head to look at
me. “And do you need an out?”

I smiled. “What do you
think?”

“Then spend the day with me.”

“All right.”

He stopped and then looked up
and down the street before walking toward the curb, stopping a cab. We climbed
in and he gave the cab the address for the Staten Island Ferry. I smiled. He
sat back, his shoulder leaning against mine then took my hand again and placed
it on his thigh. My gaze was drawn to his hand over mine his fingers threaded
through mine. I felt like I was resting against a rock. None of the male ballet
dancers had anything on Maze’s thighs. I raised my gaze to his, he was watching
me, waiting I think for me to look at him before he leaned toward me and
captured my mouth. The man didn’t ask permission, he came, he saw, he
conquered.

That’s all that I could
think. He took control of my air. I couldn’t breathe but for him. His hand
pressed against mine so I pressed in to his thigh even more, not that there was
much give. My senses were drowning in Maze. He moved his lips from mine and
began to kiss my neck; I laid my head back against the leather seat and let him
have his way. My eyes must have drifted shut because when I opened them and
they came into focus, I stared at the rear view mirror and the driver’s eyes
seemed riveted on us. We were putting on a show. I stiffened. I wasn’t one for
public displays of affection. Maze must have picked up on something being
wrong. He raised his head and looked at me then glanced toward the front,
frowning at the driver. He released my hand and placed his arm around my
shoulder pulling me closer, but he smiled at me and winked but he stopped
kissing me. While I appreciated his consideration I enjoyed his kisses. We were
quiet during the rest of the drive, but it was a companionable silence. He kept
one hand around my shoulder, and the other he kept rubbing up and down my
leather-clad arm. Like he couldn’t stop touching me. I wasn’t complaining.

The cab pulled up to the curb
and stopped. When I looked past Maze, I saw the ferry stop. He paid the driver
and we got out. Hand in hand we went to the ticket booth and got tickets for
the next ferry. We took a seat and waited. The sky was clear but the day was
chilly. It was the last gasp of winter but spring fought to take a foot hold.
My jacket and the sweater underneath kept me warm, and Maze had me tucked into
his side, his body heat providing even more warmth. I began to appreciate the
merits of taking a boat ride in cold weather.

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Maze

           

What
the fuck?

When I entered the apartment
and first saw the dude with no shirt on and sweats hanging low on his hips, it
was the first thing to come to mind. Then I relaxed because he was a ballerina,
right, so had to be gay. Little did I know. Imagine my surprise when I saw some
chick with only a t-shirt on walk out a door and go over to him. Bi. Fucker was
bi. Still didn’t sit well with me that he and Ivy were roommates. Dude was not
sizing me up as a fuck buddy but as competition. Even though Ivy insisted
they’re just friends, maybe to her, but damn if that dick didn’t want more. I
know I sure as hell would. I sure as shit did.

I shook my head to clear my
thoughts from the earlier scene. So far like last night, we were having a good
time hanging out together. Like we hadn’t been apart all those years. Falling
back into sync. I held her hand and walked onto the ferry deck. We made our way
up the stairs until we stood against the rail of the top level. God I missed
this girl. Woman. The girl she’d been was still there but matured. I tucked
some of her wind-blown hair behind her ears. Maybe it was a little too windy up
here. “You cold?” I asked Ivy.

She looked at me with those
big brown eyes and smiled. “A little.”

I would do anything to keep
that sparkle in her eyes. I moved over behind her, and wrapped my arms around
her stomach, blocking most of the wind off her and giving her my warmth while
taking hers into me. “Better?” I asked, as I nuzzled her ear.

“Much.” She tilted into my
caress and placed her hands in my coat pockets, enclosing us in a little
cocoon. We stood like that as the boat moved across the Hudson River, until we
passed the Statue of Liberty. I’d never seen it before. I’d been to New York
years ago before I met Ivy to spend two weeks working with a master swordsmen,
but didn’t have much time for sightseeing then. I was glad the first time I’d
seen the famous landmark was with Ivy.

The ride only took a half an
hour to get to Staten Island, but we didn’t get off. We stayed on and made the
returning trip back. This time we moved from the outside of the boat to the
inside café for cups of hot chocolate, then found seats on the top inside deck.
The wind had kicked up a little and the sky wasn’t quite as clear as when we’d
made the trip out. Still it was pretty cool. Ivy and I sat huddled together and
we talked, kissed and talked some more. I wanted this girl bad.

BOOK: The Ballerina & The Fighter (Book 1)
6.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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