Chapter Three
“Austin! Austin!” Seven-year-oldJared grabbed my hand. “Come dance with me.”
A week later I was in the studio, and Jared, as usual, chose me for his partner. I didn’t mind the sticky hands and little feet on my toes. He was pure and innocent and everything right with the world. I never imagined I’d love working with children, but I knew the evilness out there and wanted to protect them, even if only for this short time.
“Okay. Let’s go do stretches first, remember?” I bent at the waist, touching my toes. “Touch-the-toesies time.” All the children gathered around me, and we began my Introduction to Ballet class.
Jared’s silky blond hair flowed over his shoulders. His mother had confided in me that he loved wearing dresses and she often found him rummaging in her makeup drawer. I braced myself for an apologetic smile and a “we hope he grows out of this phase” but instead was shocked to find out she and her husband stood by any decision he made about his gender—“Whatever is right for him and makes him happy in his skin.”
You don’t know how lucky you are, kiddo.But I liked to think my mother would’ve been okay with me too. If only she hadn’t let my father destroy her… I pushed up the headband I wore to keep my hair out of my face, refusing to get sucked into that black hole. No time to dwell on past losses. Look forward and never go back.
“Now, do you remember the different positions we learned last week?” I spoke to the line of six girls and two boys, and they all nodded in unison. Jared screwed up his face in serious concentration, then placed his feet close to what I’d taught last week. Olivia, the little girl next to him, pursed her lips and executed first position perfectly. I smiled encouragement at them, loving their fierce little faces.
Tyler had three classes coming in, starting at four o’clock and ending at seven. Occasionally we would get requests for private lessons, which more and more he handed over to me to teach as he wanted to spend more time with Lillie and, of course, Marcus. He’d also handed over the scheduling of the weekly classes to me. I couldn’t blame him. If I had the perfect family waiting at home, I’d want to be with them all the time as well. And it wasn’t as if I had anything or anyone waiting for me at home but reruns on cable and a bottle of lube.
The children kept Tyler and me busy for the next three hours, and it was days like these I missed Frankie. While he loved dance, ballet wasn’t his true forte, and he’d decided to take some extra classes at FIT, thus cutting down his hours with me. We still met at Man Up and danced there, but I missed our time together at the studio, where it was less crazy and not part of a scene. Still, I understood him. Frankie was pursuing his dream.
“You kids did great today. See you next week.”
The last child left with their parent, and Tyler locked the door behind them and pulled down the blinds. Marcus, who’d come in during the final fifteen minutes of class, pointed Ty toward a chair. “Sit.”
Tyler’s lips twitched, but he did as Marcus told, and I watched as Marcus began to massage Tyler’s shoulders; then to my disbelief, he knelt, took off Tyler’s ballet shoes, and began to rub his feet with loving care.
My jaw dropped, and Tyler laughed at me. “Who would’ve ever thought the playboy of New York City would be rubbing someone’s feet, huh?”
“Not someone’s. Yours. You know I’d do anything for you.” With that startling, heartfelt pronouncement, Marcus continued to massage Tyler’s calves. “The doctor said it’s good for you to have a massage once a week, and who better to do it than me?”
“You just don’t want anyone else touching me.”
Marcus winked and kissed Tyler’s knee. “Yeah? And? No one else gets to touch what’s mine.”
The heat generated between the two of them could’ve sparked a fire, but it wasn’t anything new to me. Tyler and Marcus had that “it” quality about their relationship. I didn’t know them too well outside of what I saw here in the studio, but I felt like they loved and fought hard for what they wanted and let nothing come between them.
“Remember that asshole the first time I danced at Sparks?”
Marcus stopped his foot massage and clenched his hands. “Yeah, that fucker was lucky I didn’t have him arrested for putting his hands on you. Sam’s right. No one has the right to touch anyone else without their consent.”
“That happened to me last week.”Shit.I didn’t mean to blurt that out, but I guess it had affected me more than I thought, as I’d had several nightmares about being followed and attacked. Both Tyler and Marcus turned shocked faces toward me.
“What happened?”
“I was dancing at a club, and when I went to use the bathroom, this guy followed me and held me up against the wall. He slapped my ass and said I wanted it—liked it, even. But I didn’t.”
I heard how shaky and weak I sounded and hated it. I was strong and wouldn’t let that bastard take away everything I’d accomplished.
“Of course you didn’t. No one deserves that,” Marcus said, oddly sober, while Ty left his chair to give me a hug.
“Are you okay now? Where did this happen?”
I’d yet to reveal to Ty or Marcus that I danced at a club. Perversely, I knew if I asked Marcus, he’d readily let both Frankie and me come dance at Sparks, but I’d long ago decided to never ask favors from friends. I didn’t want to ruin the friendship in case something went wrong, plus I wanted to make it on my own, without any help. And while I enjoyed the dancing and the hefty tips certainly helped, it wasn’t how I planned to spend my life. I had dreams of my own. Dreams I hadn’t yet put into action. So I crafted my answer with care not to give anything away.
“At Man Up, where Frankie and I go. But it’s cool now. The guy left before it got rough. It was really no big deal.”
“Don’t make light of it.” Ty’s warm and comforting hand rested on my shoulder, but I remembered how jealous Marcus was and tried to pull away. Tyler, having none of that, held on. “You don’t forget that quickly. I know. Did you tell the owner what happened?”
I darted a quick look to Marcus, but all I saw was concern and caring. Tyler too, treated me like a friend. Maybe I wasn’t so alone.
“I did, and it’s all good. No more problems.” Easy enough to say as I hadn’t worked since that night. That place and this dance studio were my sanctuary, and he’d taken that peace of mind from me. I refused to let myself fall prey to worrying if he’d return. I could take care of myself anyway. That was the mantra I repeated to myself every night. Maybe if I said it often enough, I’d believe it. “Can we change the subject? I’m going to stay late, Ty, and make sure I have the schedule set for the rest of the month if I can do it all before I have to leave.”
