Page 19 of Stay Toxic

“That’s me.”

“Great performance, for a first show. The board was right to snatch you up from under New York. I hope you’re fitting in all right with the corps?”

“As well as can be expected, thank you,” Tanya says diplomatically, making me frown. “Bass, was it?”

“Sebastian Keller,” he introduces himself, extending his hand formally. “Now, I see your bottle’s almost empty. Can’t have that, can we? The next one’s on the house.”

He turns and leans forward to grab it from the fridge, and all of our gazes drift down to that tight, bitable ass.

We stare at each other and giggle like schoolgirls. At least Ari doesn’t seem to mind that everyone’s lusting for her man.

“Something amusing?” he asks, bottle in hand. From his smirk, he knows exactly what we were looking at.

“Come on, Bass. You spend two hours a day at the gym; let us appreciate the results.”

He winks at Ari. “Anytime.”

Our glasses are full again, and it occurs to me that we’re the only ones left in the theater.

“Wait, are we keeping you?”

He shrugs. “The place is closed up, but stay as long as you’d like. It gives me an excuse to avoid the house.”

That’s…strangely relatable. I also jump on whatever excuse presents itself to avoid my house, back home.

“Bass is a Vesper—that’s one of the houses at Rothford,” Ari explains to Tanya, mostly. “Except, now that he’s post-grad, all other Vespers turn to him for mentorship and shit. He loves it.”

“I fucking hate it,” he corrects, sneering.

“Why do you stay, then?” she asks. “Can’t you just transfer to another house or something?”

He sighs deeply. “The Vesper is a rather influential house. If I gave you a list of the alumni, you’d recognize all of them by name. I can’t technically live elsewhere without relinquishing my membership—unless I have a valid reason. And I don’t want to give it up.”

“So that’s why you’re squatting in our room,” I guess. Alcohol has definitely done something to my brain-to-mouth filter. If I had one in the first place.

“That, and other benefits.”

I flush, recalling exactly what kind ofbenefitshe’s talking about.

He probably thinks I’m a prude and I guess that by default, I kind of am. I’ve certainly never found myself in the kind of position Ari was in on Sunday.

I’ve only had sex with one person, missionary style, with the lights off. I didn’t like it that much and any repeat performance has been a chore. I’ve never enjoyed sex. But that doesn’t mean I don’t…wonder how other people feel. Those who like it. Those who scream and demand more. There must be a reason they’re so into it, right? And I’m curious about it. Curious about what his mouth can do, other than drive me insane with that smirk.

God, the champagne is going straight to my head, isn’t it?

I peel my eyes away from Sebastian, flushing.

The girls are chatting about Tanya’s introduction to ballet.

“It was just a way to get out of the house,” she explains. “The local youth club had classes. But the teacher told me I had a talent for it. He managed to pull some funding together so I could attend a proper academy. I won a few competitions, performed in a few shows. Then I got a college scholarship for it, and the rest is history.”

“Don’t let her convince you it was that simple,” I intervene, knowing she’s selling herself short. “Tanya works her asse off, day in day out. It’s not just the hours of grueling work, the tears and bleeding toes iced at midnight; she also has to eat a certain way, not drink much, and she barely has time for anything else.”

“It was pretty hard, at first,” she admits. “Then I got a bestie who was preparing my breakfast shakes, making sure I had ice and bandages and KT tape when I got home late, and my life got a hell of a lot easier.”

I find myself flushing as Tanya gently elbows Ari. “You’re lucky to have that one as a roomie, my friend. She’s a natural caretaker. Just make sure she has fun from time to time, yeah?”

“Hey, I can have fun,” I lie with a pout.