You and I Alone (10 page)

              “Deal.” He says, grabbing my hand and pulling me to him. His lips crash down on mine before I have a chance to even react, but the moment his tongue sweeps inside of my mouth, my body immediately melts into his embrace.

              Just as I am about to throw it all out the window and beg for him to take me right here and now, he breaks away from my mouth and takes a step backwards, leaving me feeling breathless and honestly, a bit confused.

              “Until that time.” He says, nodding his head at me before spinning around and heading towards the door.

              “What?” I call after him, completely thrown off by the sudden turn of events.

              “If you are only going to give me one night, then I want the whole night, not a couple of hours. Next Friday.” He says, peeling the door open before turning back to face me. “I will pick you up at seven.” He says, stepping through the doorway before throwing one last look in my direction. “Oh and Logan. You better be ready.” He smiles wickedly and then disappears from the doorway.

              It takes me a few moments to process everything that just happened and what exactly I just agreed to. Did I really just arrange to fuck the man that owns the club I work for? Suddenly, I realize just how in over my head I am and immediately begin second guessing myself.

              Taking a few calming breathes, I glance to the right and catch sight of myself in my vanity mirror. My cheeks are flushed and as I stare at my reflection, I can't stop the smile that slowly spreads across my face. Because at the end of the day, no matter how terrified I am of this entire situation, there is nothing I want more than to find out firsthand what a man like Bentley Reed is really made of.

Chapter Ten

             
“So you're really gonna go through with it?” Lo asks, having just told her of the arrangement I made with Bentley the night before.

              “I don't know.” I sigh in frustration. “I mean, I kind of have to see it through at this point.” I say¸ trying to hide the giddy smile that pulls up the corners of my mouth at the thought of what this Friday might bring.

              “Can I please be you?” She laughs from across the table at me. “I mean seriously. That man is like a fucking god. You realize this right?”

              “Trust me, I know exactly what you mean.” I think about her comment for a moment and then find myself smiling again.

              “Uh oh.” Lo laughs, taking a drink of her soda before sitting the fake glass back down onto the chipped old booth table.

              “What?” I ask, glancing up to meet her eyes.

              “You realize that you haven't stopped smiling since the moment you started talking about him. I think you like him.” She says, her smile matching mine.

              “Um, no.” I say, shaking my head adamantly. “He may be sexy as hell but there is only one thing I want from him and it does not require me to like him.”

              “You know, it's not a crime to admit you like a person.” She says, sighing at me dramatically. While I may agree with her, that doesn't mean I feel any emotion towards Bentley. No. My feelings are purely sexual and nothing more.

              “I just really want to fuck him.” I say casually, not even cracking a smile when Lo bursts into laughter across from me.

              “Oh my God Anna. You are too much. But I suppose if anyone can match Bentley Reed in the 'no strings' department, you can.” She says, taking a bite of her french fry.

              “What do you know?” I ask, being able to pick up on the fact that she's at least done a little research on him. I know Lo and needing to know everything about everyone is something she thrives on.

              “Nothing.” She says innocently, picking up another french fry off her plate and taking a bite. “I may have asked around.” She admits, when I clearly don't buy her 'nothing' statement.

              “And?” I ask, feeling irritated that I even need to ask for the information. She's my friend which means she should offer it up voluntarily and not make me beat it out of her.

              “No one really knows a lot about him. From what I have learned, he rarely ever comes to the club. When he does, it's typically during the day and most of his business is handled with Cora. He doesn't really speak to the dancers much but likes to know who's working for him. There are several pictures of him floating around the internet and from what I can tell, he's never seen with the same girl twice.” She says, smirking like she is really proud of herself.

              “Cora.” I say, remembering our conversation from last week. “They're involved?” I'm not sure if it's a question or a statement but either way, Lo jumps right in.

              “I don't think so.” She says, shrugging. “Though she would be an idiot not to want that, I am fairly certain that if something were going on with the two of them, someone at the club would know about it.”

              “What makes you think someone doesn't know about it?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at her. I can immediately see the insult on her face. Lo thinks she knows everything and don't ever tell her differently. I can't help but laugh at her when she wrinkles her nose.

              “Well if someone does know, they haven't spilled the beans up to this point. But now my curiosity is peaked.” She says, leaning forward, her elbows resting on the table.

              I can't help but laugh at her but then of course, I cave. Not able to keep anything from Lo, I spend the next ten minutes filling her in on my encounter with Cora from Friday night, not missing the way her eyes light up as I get further into the story. I never intended on rehashing my altercation with Cora, but it feels good to just tell someone about it. Clearly Lo sees an opportunity to dig for dirt on Cora or Bentley, or both for that matter. I can literally see the wheels turning inside that pretty little head of hers.

              “Wow.” She says, sitting back in the booth. “I knew she was crazy but holy shit. That's a whole new level of crazy.” She laughs.“Don't tell me you bought her bullshit.”

              “No.” I say, shaking my head. “I don't know, maybe.” I reconsider. “I mean, it's not like I know anything about him. And while Cora may not be the sweetest person in the world, I can't see her behaving that way if there was no truth to it at all. Maybe they aren't together but that doesn't mean that nothing has ever happened to make her think differently.”

              “Who knows.” Lo shrugs, playing it off like she doesn't care. But I know Lo. And I would put money on the fact that she will be digging for more information the moment she walks through the doors of
Allure
tomorrow night.

              Shifting the subject to a lighter topic, the rest of our late night meal is spent discussing how finals went and what crazy drama is taking place on the reality shows that she watches religiously. I love how easily distracted she can be and how quickly I can get her talking about herself, which takes the pressure off of me.

              We exit the little diner just after three in the morning and while I feel just a little better about my situation, having hashed it all out with Lo, at the same time I can't shake the nervous knot that has formed in the pit of my stomach either. I'm not sure what I am nervous about though. Friday night? Or maybe it's the fact that I am uneasy about just how much digging Lo is going to do and what flags she may raise in the process. The last thing I need is anyone at the club finding out about my arrangement with Bentley, especially Cora.

****

              The week creeps by at a snails pace and by Wednesday I am convinced that Friday is never going to arrive. I have never dreaded and yet, looked forward to something at the same time so much in my life. One minute I feel excitement. The next, I feel dread. Then excited again. My days are consumed with thoughts of Bentley and my nights, well let's just say I have never dreamed about a person so much before.

              I know it has everything to do with our impending date and what the night might hold for us. While I may put on a confident facade for others, deep down I am terrified that being with a man like Bentley will expose me for the fraud I am. It's just sex, I try to remind myself. But that doesn't make me feel any better about the situation.

              Even still, the one emotion that stands out among all the others coursing through me is want. Just thinking about the way his mouth felt against me, the way his tongue worked skillfully across my most sensitive flesh, well it's enough to erase all the doubt, at least for a short while. Eventually it creeps back in and I find myself questioning every decision I have made up to this point.

              “Anna.” I hear Patty's voice break into my thoughts and I glance up from my place on the floor to see her looking down at me, a concerned and yet amused look lighting up her face. “Did you hear me?” She asks, clearly realizing immediately that I didn't.

              “Sorry.” I say, shaking my head and switching my stretch to the other leg. “What's up?” I ask, trying to shake off my lingering thoughts of Bentley.

              “Charlie and Marcie aren't able to make it today. Apparently Charlie caught a stomach bug and Marcie’s family had something come up. I went ahead and rescheduled the rehearsal, considering two of the five girls aren't able to attend.”

              “Oh, okay.” I say, pulling myself into a standing position. “Did you need my help with something else then?” I ask, glancing at the clock on the wall directly in front of me to see it is just after five in the evening.

              “Well, I was hoping that maybe you could close up shop for me as soon as Tara finishes up with her class.” She says, smiling at me sweetly.

              “Sure.” I agree, having no where else to be.

              “Thank you. I am going to have dinner with a friend in the city so I won't be home until later.” She says, giving me a brief kiss on the cheek before turning and quickly making her way out of the room.

              The moment Patty disappears, an eery silence settles around me. Looking around the large square space, I can't help but remember all the hours I spent in this very room. I just started working at the studio again this week and while I love being back here, it's also very hard for me as well. It's hard to see all the dancers that come here everyday, most sharing the same dream that I once had. To dance professionally one day. And while a good deal of them are very talented, it breaks my heart knowing that probably only a select few will dance beyond their childhood.

              Patty has me teaching her five to nine year old class on Tuesdays and Thursdays but needing more to do, she agreed to let me help teach her fourteen and fifteen year old dancers their fall recital routine on Wednesdays and Saturdays.

              I jump slightly when music from the next room kicks on. For a moment I had forgotten that anyone else was here. The studio is made up of three separate rooms. Each room is a large square space with floor to ceiling mirrors that cover every wall. Crossing the space, I hook my iPod into the audio jack of the stereo sitting in the far right corner and start skimming through my playlist.

              It has been years since I have actually danced here. I have helped teach classes of course, but I have not actually danced in this studio since the day I went down wrong on my leg and everything changed. Scrolling through my song list, I click on “I Can't Stop Drinking About You” by Bebe Rexha. The moment the first few beats vibrate out of the surround sound speakers wired throughout the room, I close my eyes, taking in the sound, the beat, the tempo.

              It only takes seconds before I am moving across the studio floor. It feels so natural to dance here, having done so for so many years of my life. And yet, it feels strange at the same time, given how long it has been.

              As the tempo picks up and the song really takes off, I find my mind letting go and my body taking over. I move effortlessly across the floor, pushing my body in a way that I haven't done in quite sometime. And while the action is terrifying and every second I am just waiting for my knee to give out and to feel the pain shooting through me that I know will follow, I can't make myself stop.

              While my main focus when I first started dancing was ballet, it quickly shifted to a more Contemporary style with pieces of ballet peppered throughout, the older I got. I was already working on my audition piece for
Julliard
when I was barely fourteen. Convinced that one day I would move to New York and attend there. Cliche I know. But ultimately every dancer dreams of
Julliard
.

              I still remember the routine, the jumps, the kicks. And as my body goes through the motions, it's like no time has passed at all. In this moment, it's like I am still that young girl with stars in her eyes and a dream in her heart. It didn't matter back then what I had lost, what I had suffered. When I danced, it all went away. It wasn't about the pain, it was about the happiness I felt when I lost myself to the music and the motions.

              It isn't until I get to a particularly difficult jump that my brain registers the risk. Stopping midway through, I land a little too hard on my leg and immediately feel the strain in my knee. Nothing too severe, but enough to know that I have pushed myself far enough. Collapsing onto the hard floor, I sprawl out, trying to catch my breath as the music still bounces off the walls around me.

              Staring up at the ceiling, everything floods back. My family, my grandmother, my youth. Everything I had lost that dance gave back to me. You would have to be a dancer to understand the freedom and the outlet that it offers. For a young child who had nothing left, dance was everything. I clung to it like a security blanket. Which explains why I was so scared when I lost it. I didn't know who I was without dance. Hell, I'm not sure that even now I have figured that out.