?????
Leaning against Ryan’s desk, he hands me the large matte, and I cannot believe how well the photo turned out. Everything is black except for the curve of the back—my back—which is a striking muted grey with a shadow cast along the spine—my spine.
I stand there, staring at the photo, every detail of the photo. When I do look up, Ryan is focused on me with a grin on his face.
“What?” I ask.
“You.”
“Me?”
Stepping in front of me, he takes the matte out of my hands and places it on the desk behind me. He slides his arms around my waist and pulls me into him and says, “You’re fucking amazing,” and kisses me with an intensity I haven’t felt from him before. I let myself fall into him as his lips tangle with mine. When he dips his tongue in my mouth, I can taste the coolness that is left over from the mints he’s addicted to. I feel so connected to him right now, and I never want to lose this feeling. So, when he breaks our kiss, I can’t help the moan that creeps past my lips.
He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against mine, and I can hear his heavy breaths. Placing my hands on his face, I move in to selfishly kiss him, to feel the warmth of his touch on me. Gripping my waist, he lifts me onto his desk as he stands between my legs. Holding the back of my head, he intensifies our kiss, and I let him take more control than I have in the past.
When his shoulders tense up under my hands, he pulls away. I know it’s hard for him to stop himself when we are together like this.
“Do you know how hard it was to concentrate on touching up that photo of you?
As I shake my head, he tells me, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I believe him when he says those words to me. I might not feel that way in a day from now, or even an hour from now. But right now, in this moment—I believe him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
––––––––
After studio ends, Ms. Emerson asks me to stay so that she can watch how my solo is progressing. Last time I rehearsed with her, it was a disaster. I’m beginning to feel the power of the piece when I dance. I know she wants me to focus on myself when I hear the music, but I just can’t go to that place yet. Instead, I think about Ryan and everything he’s told me about growing up and the violence in his house. It’s been enough to help me better connect with the piece.
“Okay, Candace. Are you ready?” she asks as she grabs the remote to the stereo and takes her place at the front of the room.
“Yes.” I walk to the center and place my feet in fifth position, waiting for the music to begin. When the strings begin to echo through the speakers, I slowly relevè on my pointes and begin my series of chainès across the floor. The low hum of the cello vibrates within my chest as I work through the movements. My heart thumps harder with the staccato brushes of the violins, and I’m spot on when I turn into my fouettè sequence. I flow through the progressions and the twinge in my stomach courses through my body as the music slowly fades into nothingness.
The room is quiet except for the breaths flowing in and out of my lungs. When I look over at Ms. Emerson, she’s walking toward me. Standing in front of me, she says without any inflection in her voice, “That’s better.”
She says nothing else, and turns to walk out of the room. When the door closes behind her, I let out a puff of breath and allow myself the relief of a huge smile. Replaying her words, those two simple words, in my head, I spend the next hour dancing and feeling. Even though I am feeling someone else’s pain, I’m still feeling.
When I leave the studio and get into my car, I decide to stop by the loft and surprise Ryan before he has to go into work for the night.
“Hey, babe!” Ryan says when he opens the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you before you left for work.”
Picking me up in his arms, I laugh before he kisses me.
“I’ve missed you this week,” he says as he sets me back down.
“Sorry. Auditions are in a few weeks, and then I won’t be living in the studio.”
“Candace!”
Leaning over to look around Ryan, I see Gavin walking over.
“Hey, Gavin. What are you doing here?”
“Just stopped by to bullshit with Ryan.”
I look back at Ryan and say, “I’m sorry, I should have called before stopping by.”
Gavin grabs my hand and pulls me inside. “Wanna beer?”
“Um, no.”
Walking past me, Ryan says, “I’ll get you a water.”
“Thanks.” I love that he knows exactly what I need without having to ask.
Gavin and I sit down in front of the TV where they have been watching SportsCenter.
Pointing the neck of his beer bottle to my head, he jokes, “What’s with the hair, grandma?”
“Don’t be a dick,” Ryan says as he hands me a bottle of water and sits down next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.