Wherever the Dandelion Falls (33 page)

I was so surprised I almost slipped down my pole and busted my head open on the floor. I had never considered teaching.

Struggling, I strained up and grabbed the pole above my legs with my hands, turning my body upright so I could dismount. "Take over?" I breathed.

Anya quirked her eyebrow and drew a finger to her lips, telling me to keep quiet.

I was thrilled at the idea of teaching novice dancers how to handle a pole. It didn't even occur to me that I'd make money doing it. "Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

Anya gave me one of the only honest, friendly smiles I'd ever seen her give. "Get back on that pole and show me you're worth it," she said.

Fueled by her underhanded praise, I hopped back on the pole, determined to master my reverse inversions.

After class, Anya gave me a subtle beckon with her index finger as she stacked the stretching mats. I rushed over to help her, wiping each mat down as the other students filed out of the studio. When it was just the two of us, Anya stood up and gave a half-smile. "So the studio's filling up and, frankly, beginners bore me. Are you interested?"

"Yeah," I said, sounding breathy and eager. "I'm totally interested."

"Good," she said, bobbing her head. "Come teach a class while I watch tomorrow afternoon."

I'd have to find a replacement for my Jez shift, but I agreed, thanking her profusely before I left.

I had only twenty-four hours to prepare. On my drive home I scrolled through my music, drafting a playlist of tempo-appropriate songs from stretch to cool-down.

The following day, I picked my best workout outfit and headed to Swivel way too early. I busied myself mastering the sound system and placing the mats around the room.

Anya prowled around as the girls filed in for class. I was sweating and hoped my palms wouldn't be too clammy to spin. I encouraged everyone to start stretching and checked in with each girl about how new she was to poling. When it was time for the class to begin, Anya addressed the girls with a fatigued voice. "Okay, ladies. Riley here is training to take over the beginner classes, so don't go easy on her okay? Be just as impossible as you are with me." She gave a hint of a smile and prowled back to the leopard-print couch in the back of the room.

Taking that as my cue to start, I gave the class a nervous smile and sat down, leaning forward with my legs outstretched. The class followed suit, and I started engaging them in friendly chatter about music and the state of our pedicures and where the best cupcakes in town were.

By the time I'd led them through the obligatory stretches and pole-ups, I was relaxed. I stepped into my Ellies and demonstrated some introductory spins before walking around the room, encouraging everyone, peppering the room with praise the same way Anya distributed sneers and eye-rolls. I helped three new girls do their first spins and gave pointers about chalk and hand washing to girls who were having trouble with slipping. When we had finished stretching out at the end of the class, I felt great. The hour had flown by, and if the sweaty smiles of the girls in front of me were any indication, they liked me.

There was only one more person I needed approval from, and she was still expressionless in the back of the room.

After everyone had left and I was halfway through stacking the stretch mats, Anya walked over to me and said, "You good with doing that three days a week?"

Stunned at her up-front offer, I looked up and nodded.

"Great," she said. "You get to keep fifty percent of the class fees, the rest goes to rent and management. I'll get you some business cards."

At that point, I didn't even care about the money. I was just so happy that someone trusted me to do something besides take my clothes off.

"Great," I said, grinning like a fool.

Anya gave a brief smile and turned and walked toward the door. She looked over her shoulder and said, "Oh, and I wouldn't mention your other job, if I were you." She provided no other explanation, only turned and walked out of the studio into the office.

I tried to brush the comment off as I finished stacking the mats and picked up my purse. I fished out my phone and sent text messages to Justine and Faye with lots of exclamation points. Justine was still at work, so I didn't expect a response from her, but Faye replied immediately.

Congrats! Come celebrate!

I was hesitant. I didn't know how it would be to be around her now that I knew I was attracted to her. I did want to see her when I wasn't angry or crying my eyes out. It could be simple, right? I was attracted to some of the girls at Jez and it never got complicated. I knew deep down that my attraction to my coworkers was a different kind of attraction, but the logic was enough for me to justify seeing Faye again. I agreed and sped over to her house.

Faye gave me an energetic hug at the door and I was suddenly self-conscious about how sticky I was from teaching.

"Sorry I'm gross," I muttered into her hair. "I came right from the studio."

"This is so exciting!" she said, ignoring my apology as she rocked side to side in our hug. "I bet you're a great teacher. I mean, I know you are."

Remembering how hesitant and unsteady Faye had been in the Box at Jez, I grew warm. I knew I should let go of her and keep my boundaries in place, but she was still squeezing me, so it wouldn't have mattered if I did. Her body felt so soft and warm against mine.

"What's your favorite food?" she asked, pulling away. "Breakfast, lunch, or dinner."

Smiling at her enthusiasm, I shrugged and said, "I'm in the mood for pancakes."

"Done," Faye said. "There's a twenty-four hour diner down the street with awesome pancakes.”

"Sold," I said.

We walked a few blocks and Faye asked me the details of the job. I told her what I knew, babbling about my ideas for which songs to use and what I wanted to do differently than Anya. Faye paid rapt attention, asking lots of questions and mirroring my excitement.

I adored her even more for that.

We walked into the diner and sat by the window. After flipping through the worn plastic menu, I set mine down, realizing I hadn't asked her about her day or even thanked her for taking care of me.

"Hey, I never thanked you for taking care of me the other night. Hanging out with you and Schro was exactly what I needed."

Faye tilted her head and smiled. "No problem. We were just having a quiet night in and you made it much more fun."

I let out a quiet scoff. I'd come running to a girl I'd only recently met with my makeup in rings around my eyes, upset about how my prostitution client had screwed me over.

Faye kept talking. "I mean, I'll probably never get to run over a video camera in a Beemer again."

Ever appreciative of Faye's polite humor, I nodded and looked down at where my hands rested over each other on the edge of the table.

"Are you doing okay now?" Faye asked, tilting her head to try to meet my eyes.

"Yeah. I just felt bad asking you to help me clean up my own mess," I mumbled.

"Don't feel bad," Faye said, leaning forward. "He made the mess, not you."

"I guess," I said, skeptical.

It was quiet for a moment before Faye said, "Sometimes asking for help seems like an impossibly big favor to the person asking and a trivial thing to the person giving."

I nodded, still not meeting her eyes.

Faye continued, lowering her voice further. "When I was in college, I ran to Isaiah when I was freaked out. We didn't know each other that well then."

Wondering what had happened to freak her out, I looked up. "What happened?"

Faye leaned back, looking down at the table as her shoulders stiffened. "Just something with my roommate."

Seeing Faye's sudden discomfort and wanting to relieve it, I made a joke. "Did she videotape you having sex?" As soon as I said it, I realized it sounded like I was competing with her for who had it worse.

Luckily Faye gave a brief, appreciative chuckle. "No. She came home drunk one night and kissed me. I was young and it freaked me out."

That was not at all what I expected her to say.

If I hadn't been pleasantly surprised with my newfound knowledge that Faye had kissed a girl, I would have burst out laughing. To me, kissing a girl was the most mundane thing in the world. I had kissed Callie the other day in the Box.

But there was something about kissing a girl that had unsettled Faye to the point where I was suspicious.

So, hoping against hope, I dared to ask.

"Did you like her?" Maybe if that had been the case, Faye's discomfort would make sense.

Faye furrowed her brow at me. "She was my roommate," she said, as though that precluded her attraction to her.

"So?" I shrugged, reminding her that attraction has no regard for living arrangements.

Faye realized how faulty her logic was too, because she gave a timid shrug and said, "I mean... she was pretty." Then she seemed to retreat further into herself, as though trying to hide the blush that accompanied a crush.

Faye's eyes scanned the restaurant. I saw the relief on her face when a waitress came up to take our order and I realized I'd pushed too far. I needed to make it up to her, so after we placed our orders for pancakes and cocoa, I retreated to a topic that was more comfortable for her.

"So you and Isaiah have a big anniversary coming up, huh?"

Faye nodded, biting her lips. "Saturday, yeah.”

"Do you know what you're going to get him?"

Faye gave an uncomfortable shrug. "Maybe a nice new shirt and tie. He likes when I help him pick out work outfits."

I wrinkled my nose. "That's a boring present."

Faye slumped a little. "I know..."

"You could get him some Private Pleasures Booth time at Jez," I said, quirking my eyebrow.

Faye's eyes widened and her mouth opened a bit as she tried to figure out how to respond to my suggestion.

"I'm
kidding
," I said, surprised she had taken me seriously. For some couples, that might have been a wonderful gift, but I had no delusions about the vanilla-ness of Faye's relationship with Isaiah.

Faye looked relieved and let a sheepish smile sweep over her face.

"How about a massage gift certificate?" I suggested. "A regular one. Not a happy ending massage."

Faye perked up. "He'd like that. He's always so tense from work."

"There's a great place by my house. I go there all the time, especially when I'm sore from work. You should come by my place, and we can pick up a gift certificate."

Finally Faye smiled again, just in time for our cocoa to be placed in front of us and her hands to wrap around her mug. "Okay," she said. "How about Thursday?"

"Thursday is perfect. I have nothing until my first pole class at four."

"Okay. Lunch?" Faye asked.

I nodded, relieved that she wasn't scared off by my artlessness or goading.

At that moment her phone must have buzzed in her pocket because her hand darted down under the table and brought her phone back up. She slid the call open and held it to her ear.

"Hey," she said, with a degree of familiarity. She listened for a moment before saying, "Just having pancakes with Riley." She paused for a moment before looking up at me and shifting the phone away from her mouth. "Isaiah says hi," she said.

"Hi, Isaiah," I said. It sounded more drone-like than I intended.

While I knew Isaiah existed, Faye taking a call from him made him more real. The fact that I hadn't seen a picture of him enabled me to keep him in the realm of the imaginary. But sitting across from Faye as she talked to him reminded me he wasn't just an idea. He was a person who had captured Faye's heart and managed to hold onto it for five years.

"Riley says hi back. So what's up?"

Faye eased into listening as her gaze rested on the table. She hummed into the phone as Isaiah talked, once looking up to mouth
Sorry
. I lifted my hand to brush off the apology. She was allowed to talk to her boyfriend around me. Even if it was a harsh reminder that I needed to keep myself in check.

"Sounds great. No, you always pick great restaurants. Go ahead and make the reservation. Yeah. Of course."

As Faye and her boyfriend made plans for their anniversary dinner, I adjusted myself in my worn plastic seat, determined to be content with diner pancakes.

I went back to the party, upset with Faye, but mostly at myself. I knew I shouldn't have lashed out at her, but why was I putting up with her awful behavior? I deserved better. I grabbed another drink, tipped it back into my throat, and picked up another. Justine saw me and raised her eyebrows at me from across the room.

As I drifted into the living room after my fourth drink of the evening, I found myself wondering what it would be like for Faye to be the one to find me just past the throes of passion with someone else. Would she blow up? Cry? Feel like I'd felt when I discovered her in bed with someone else?

Would she have any feelings at all?

I almost wanted to have a one night stand just to find out.

I found Vance chatting up a cute brunette in the corner. He was smiling and focusing on her like she was the only person in the room. That had been me under his gaze twenty minutes ago. I went up to them, hoping to cut into their conversation. But Vance's fixation on the brunette seemed impenetrable. I finished my drink and got another, drowning out the awfulness of Faye's rejection. If I'd learned anything as a bartender, it was that alcohol was the solution to every fool's malady.

After I was significantly buzzed, I wandered back into the living room to find a group of people crowded around our coffee table playing Cards Against Humanity, filling up the room with raucous, drunken laughter. Willing to try anything to distract myself, I joined in.

After a few rounds, I had left the feeling of Faye's ice completely behind. I was frothy with laughter and drink, and the evening blurred on until I somehow found myself in my bed alone under my covers, sinking toward sleep.

In the morning I awoke to a soft knock on my door. Groggy and aching, I groaned and rolled over, burying my head under my pillow and cursing the light that glared into my room at this hour of the day. The knock came again and I mumbled from under the pillow, "Come in."

The footsteps that entered weren't Justine's. I lifted my head enough to look at the floor through the slat between the mattress and pillow and was surprised to see the bottom half of Faye's legs, her feet sliding towards me in her favorite sandals.

"Morning, Riley," she whispered.

I lifted my head, letting the pillow teeter and flop off as I blinked at her.

"Morning," I croaked.

She sat on the edge of my bed, dipping the mattress as she placed a bag and cup on the edge of my desk.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose and feeling the sharp throb behind my eyes. "I've been better."

Faye put her hand on my sleep-warm back and ran across it a few times.

"I brought you a greasy breakfast sandwich and some cocoa," she said. "I thought you might need it."

Surprised by her kind gesture after her inexplicable awfulness last night, I turned onto my side and looked up at her.

"Thanks," I said.

She gave a distracted nod as she looked around my room. It was silent for a moment as I tried to figure out what her angle was this time.

"I'm sorry for being such a bitch yesterday," Faye mumbled, looking down at her nails. "I was... having a rough time," she said vaguely. "Sorry I took it out on you."

Relieved that she knew she'd been mean to me, I nodded and extended my hand to her. She took it without hesitation and gave it a little squeeze as she bit her lip.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.

She shook her head, her hair swinging. Then she finally made eye contact. “We can go to the movies today if you want," she offered. "If your head feels okay."

Relieved she was back to being her sweet self, I rolled onto my back and smiled at her. "Sounds good," I said. "Thanks for breakfast."

Faye reached forward and moved a strand of my hair out of my face. She studied me, contemplating something quietly as I tried to appreciate the moment through my hangover. My head was pounding, and since Faye had arrived, my heart had started pounding too.

"Did you want to rest some more? I can do some work if you'd rather be alone..."

Knowing that I might not see this sweet side of Faye again soon if I let her leave, I squeezed her hand. Bringing me food was a nice gesture, but it still didn't explain her behavior the night before.

"Did I do something last night that made you angry?" I asked. "Besides talk to that guy?"

Faye lowered her head and shook it. "No.”

I nodded, still perplexed. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"I mean... I said I was sorry," she said, inching away from me. She was so skittish, and it occurred to me that her jealousy over a harmless conversation might be an indicator of her insecurity. Sex was one thing, but intimacy was another. When I thought about it, I'd never been intentionally intimate with her. Maybe she needed me to tell her with words how I felt about her rather than asking her on dates or showing her with my body and attention. Everyone's ears work differently.

I squeezed her hand. "You know you're special to me, right?" I murmured.

Faye looked up through her lashes and gave a subtle nod, sucking her lower lip under her teeth. Then, to my delight, she said quietly, "You're special to me too."

I felt my body exhale in relief, and half my headache faded. We were back to normal. Normal for us, at least.

I smiled and leaned up to peck her on the cheek before darting into the bathroom, peeing, brushing my teeth, splashing some cold water on my face, and drinking a big glass of water. Then I walked back into my room and hopped into my bed, scooting over a few inches and lifting the cover, offering Faye a space.

Faye tucked herself next to me, her body going soft into the warm spot I'd left with my own. She nestled into me and I wrapped my arms around her. I stroked her hair and relished the calm, quiet of the morning. We basked in each other for a long time, adjusting our necks or arms every minute or so.

Once the front door closed behind Justine, Faye tilted her head up to me with a smile. It wasn't long before my lips were on hers and we were curling into each other, peeling off layers of clothing as our panting and grasping and humming escalated. Then she was on top of me and her fingers were inside me and I was delirious with pleasure, desperate to be closer. If there was any part of Faye I never doubted, it was the way she was when she was naked against me.

After we'd finished, she turned to me with a sated grin and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

"I don't know what I was worried about," she said. "That guy's got nothing on me."

"You can say that again," I giggled.

"That guy's got nothing on me."

I laughed and I knew we'd made up.

We took a shower together, spending what must have been an hour kissing under the spray. My headache evaporated, and aside from being hungry and pruny, I felt great. We dressed and took turns brushing out each other's hair before we inhaled the food Faye had brought. When that still wasn't enough, we ventured into the kitchen where we made pancakes, laughing as we spilled flour and dripped batter. We didn't even bother with two plates; we piled a big stack on one plate, drowned it in maple syrup, and ate off it together, smiling with the sweetness and stickiness of our morning.

Once we'd cleaned up our mess, Faye checked her phone. "
Oz
is playing at two."

I went into my room to get us some sweaters before we made our way out to Faye's car. We drove to the theater without saying much. After being close to her all morning, I didn't need to talk. We found parking and walked into the theater, Faye walking a bit faster than usual. She gave her gift certificate to the person working the ticket counter, then handed me my ticket without making eye contact.

"Want popcorn?" she asked.

"Only if you do," I said.

Faye kept her chin down as we waited in line, flicking through her phone a few times. She ordered our popcorn with a stiff voice and handed it to me once we'd checked out. As we walked toward the theater, I studied her. Had something happened to make her retreat? Was she stressed about an assignment? Avoiding someone she knew in the lobby? Whatever it was, it eluded me.

Once we got into the theater, we made our way up the stairs to the way back and selected two seats in the middle. Faye sat rigid in hers, arranging her purse in the seat next to her, turning her phone on silent. She held the popcorn while I got settled, making sure not to move too quickly and spook her.

I looked around, relieved the theater was mostly empty. We played along with the pre-show guessing game on the screen, mostly so we didn't have to sit in awkward silence.

Once the lights dimmed and the previews started, Faye eased back into her chair, slumping and putting her feet up on the seat in front of her. There were a few clusters of people around the theater, but it was mostly empty.

Once the previews were over, Faye adjusted herself again. Then she sat forward, flipped the arm between our chairs up, and gave me a flirty smile as she lifted her arm, offering to let me snuggle into her side. I did so eagerly, relieved that she was okay again.

As the opening credits rolled, Faye reached into the popcorn and took a single piece out with her fingers. Then she held it up to my lips and waited for me to take it. Grinning, I did. She repeated the action a few times before feeding herself a few pieces and then holding up another piece for me to eat. Wanting to encourage her, I tilted my chin forward and took not just the piece of popcorn in my mouth, but one of her fingers too. Holding it gently with my teeth, I slowly started to suck. Faye tensed and quivered against me as I drew her finger deeper into my mouth, running my tongue along the bottom. When I let her finger go, she exhaled. She had definitely liked that.

Not wanting to heat things up too fast, I took the next few pieces of popcorn she offered without teasing, allowing the salt to adhere them to my tongue long enough to be pulled inside and crushed, leaving her fingers untouched. Then, after a few minutes, I repeated what I'd done to her finger and was rewarded with a soft, breathy whine in my ear. I smiled around her finger before releasing it and settling back into watching the movie. I pressed a kiss into her shoulder as a promise to follow through once we were behind closed doors.

It felt like we'd only been snuggling for a few minutes when the credits started rolling. Faye extracted her arm from around me and leaned forward, collecting her purse and rolling up the half-empty popcorn bag.

In the lobby, Faye zipped up again, stashing the popcorn in the trash and looking around her with nervous, darting eyes as she headed for the door. I followed a step behind. Once we were out in the sun — it's one of the weirdest things ever, leaving a movie theater in the daytime
—
I thought everything would be okay and we could slip back into our snuggling, stretching out the sweetness of our makeup sex and pancake syrup even longer. So I nudged up against her and slid my hand into hers between our bodies, gripping her palm as I gave her a smile that told her I couldn't wait to get into the privacy of her bedroom or maybe even her car.

But Faye violently jerked her hand from mine as though I'd shocked her. I felt like she'd slapped me in the face. And then she gave me a look that was all ice and daggers and I felt punched in the gut.

I was so surprised I couldn't speak. The sting of her glare silenced me.

What had I done wrong now?