Loverboy (14 page)

“It all depends on when you find that right person,” he says. “My sister did.”

“Are you saying you’re the right person?” I ask.

“I must be,” he boasts, smiling.

I laugh and try to wiggle free. “Don’t rub your ego too much there.”

He pulls me in closer and smiles. “I think you’re the one rubbing my ego right now.”

I can feel my face get hot as I wrap my arms around him and pull myself in for a tight hug. “You are the last person I thought would make me feel safe. I was wrong,” I tell him resting my head against his chest.

“That’s what matters the most.”

I pull away slowly. “Can I just,” I pause. “Can I just try one thing?” I laugh nervously. “Because I do really like you.” I stop and stand on my tip toes to push my face to his. Nick helps by leaning down and into me as I feel my lips barely brush his. “I just really want a real kiss.”

“A real kiss?” He asks, his lips tickling against mine. “What in the world do you call the other ones?” He laughs softly.

“You know what I mean.”

He nods. “I do.”

I swallow as his lips tease mine for a moment and eventually press to me. I feel my body relax as his pushes into me to deepen the kiss. I feel my mouth part and my heart pound as I pull away.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Relax. Just breathe,” he tells me. “Don’t rush yourself. We don’t have to rush anything.”

“You’re pretty understanding about all of this,” I tell him.

“My sister, remember?”

I nod. “Definitely not like most guys.”

He shakes his head. “Definitely not.”

I smile. “Want to just watch some TV until I pass out?”

He laughs as I head over to the couch. “Think sharing the big lounge chair is rushing yourself?”

I smile. “I don’t think so.” I reach for a blanket as he makes himself comfortable on one side of the chair and I join him on the other. His arm immediately wraps around me, and my head finds that perfect place between his chest and his arm. He tugs the blanket around me and clicks the button to power the TV on.

“If you don’t mind,” he says, “no click flicks. Something funny.”

“Deal,” I say, though I know it won’t be long before
I’m sleeping.

He flips through a few hopeless channels before finding
Pawn Stars
on the
History Channel
. Something we can both live with. I let my eyes close and I feel myself slowly drifting to sleep.

* * * * * *

I wake slowly to bright light in my eyes. My head has slipped comfortably down on Nick’s chest where I can hear his heartbeat and feel his steady breathing. The blanket has been adjusted around the both of us and his arms have found their way tightly around me. I stretch my legs out further onto the ottoman and groan softly as I do so.

I feel Nick move slightly. “Good morning,” he says. “I didn’t expect you to wake up this soon.”

I move slightly to look at him. “Morning.” I smile. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not that long,” he says.“I was planning on just letting you sleep in.”

I rub the sleep from my eyes and glance at the TV where there’s a show about classic cars on. “What time is it?” I ask.

“Just after nine,” he tells me. “Still plenty of time to see your dance groups.”

I smile. I feel as though it really had been forever since I had seen either group. And, my group of younger girls always had their own way of brightening my days. “I’m going to get in a shower before we go,” I say. “Is that okay?”

He nods. “Of course, I’ll be right here waiting.”

I push off the blanket and slowly begin working my way out of the chair. But, not before Nick can sneak in one soft kiss. He grins wide. “Now you can have your shower.”

I feel my cheeks fill with color as I head down the hallway and disappear into the bathroom to work through all of my thoughts, all of the new feelings, and the future.

- 8 -

Nick

I lean back into the lounge chair and adjust the volume on the TV a bit more as I hear the running water start. I flip through random channels, checking for anything worth watching. I return it to the history channel, deciding something on there had to be better than what the other channels were playing. Ten minutes into another episode of Pawn Stars and I note that the water in the bathroom had stopped running and was now replaced by the sounds of a hair dryer. I grab my phone and decide to check for any missed messages. The screen goes right to my screen saver, indicating nothing important had happened while I slept. I toss it back on the small side table and resume watching the TV as I can now hear Charlie cursing at her hair in the bathroom. Eventually the
bathroom door opens and I catch a glimpse of her hair that has been placed in a perfect bun as she heads back to her bedroom.             

“I’m curious,” she calls to me. “You’ve surprised me before, you might do it again. Do you know how to dance?”

“What?” I ask. “You mean like the funky chicken?”

I hear her laugh; clearly not what she meant. For me, dancing is like cooking. Someone is bound to get hurt when it happens.

“No, I have two left feet, and I dare not try,” I tell her. “How long have you been dancing for?” I ask.

“Since I was about four,” she calls back to me, and I hear a rustling sound from her room.

“In other words, you’re awesome,” I say.

“I guess I’m okay,” she says back to me, now coming down the hallway toward me. “When you dance long enough you’re bound to pick up on a thing or two.”

She now steps into my vision. She’s in black from head to toe. Long, form-fitted black pants and long-sleeved top, with special black shoes in her hands that I can only assume are made for dancers.

“If you’ve been dancing since you were four than you’ve probably picked up on more than just a thing or two.” I smile. “You look beautiful,” I say, noting the makeup and shimmering eye shadow that she’s put on.

“Thank you,” she says. “The girls love it when I’m made up, and I don’t want them to know that something this serious has been going on.”

“What were they told happened to you?”

“Lana, my boss, told them I’d had an accident. Not the best, but it worked.”

“Well, they had to do what was best for them.”

“I hate seeing them lied to, but under the circumstances, what else could be done?” She asks.

“Well, your boss did the right thing,” I say. “I bet they will be excited to see you.”

“I know I’m excited and nervous to see them,” she says. “I’ve really missed dancing.”

She looks a little uneasy as I step toward her and place my hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ve just…anytime we’ve gone out, it’s been just the two of us,” she says. “I haven’t exactly interacted with others.”

“Charlie, you are doing an amazing job,” I remind her. “These are your students, and you know as well as I know that you can do this.”

She gives me a little nod. “It’s just that no one I know has seen…” She looks down at her wrist for a moment. I know as well as she, that underneath her long sleeved top and pants are various marks, some still healing, some look fresh, but they’re there and they’re a reminder for Charlie of what she went through. They’re there to show the world what she lived through. I take her hand in mine to look at the marking around her wrist. Make no mistake that it’s from being bound as her other has one to match. The marks are still pink with healing scabs around them from the cuts. She lets out a deep sigh as I use a finger tip to tenderly trace around it.

“This does not define you,” I tell her softly. “This is
not who you are. Do not be ashamed of a red mark, because you are stronger than that.”

She looks at me with tears in her eyes and gives me a smile.

“You are safe, Charlie; I will never let anything hurt you again,” I say.

She gives me a bright nod. “Then we should go, so I can attempt to dance again. Let’s see how well my sore body cooperates.”

“Well,” I say. “Let me get ready and we’ll get you to that studio.”

* * * * * *

The minute we pass through the great double doors to the room lined with mirrors, a large group of girls waste no time in running up to Charlie. She looks back at me briefly with worry washed down her face. It’s overwhelming, and she is still nervous. She’s fighting it well, because as I’ve told her many times, she has a strength beyond even me. I give her a little nod and mouth the words, “You are safe. I am right here.” She returns the little nod, and finally squats to their level. Some squeal, some yell, and some just chatter to her as several others are at the same time. They each have their turn giving her a warm embrace or giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Miss Charlotte!” One girl yells. “I’ve missed you!”

Another latches onto her. “We like Miss Anabelle,” she adds, “but, she’s mean.”

I have to turn away to hide my laugh. Kids are brutally honest, that’s for sure.

“How are you feeling?” The tallest girl chimes in.

“Better.” Charlie
smiles.
,
“A lot of time spent in the hospital, but I’m feeling up to dancing again.”

“When are you coming back for good?” One of the shortest girls asks.

“Soon, I hope,” Charlie replies. “I still have a little recovery, but my doctor doesn’t think it should be too much longer. I’m still just a little sore from the accident, though. I need to get my strength back.”

A young girl glances toward me as I stand in the back ground. I manage a smile. She smiles back and waves. I wave back, unsure of what to do.

She turns to Charlie, looking her directly in the eyes. “Miss Charlotte, who’s that man?”

For some reason, I feel like hiding. If
Anabelle is mean, God knows what they’ll say about me.

She glances over her shoulder at me. “That’s Nick, he’s my,” she pauses, looking at the girls. “He’s my really great friend.”

“He’s really cute.” One of the girls flushes. For some odd reason I feel my own cheeks feeling rather warm.

“Miss Charlotte, it’s not nice to lie.” The first and tallest girl smiles. “Is he your boyfriend?”
             

Charlie laughs. “Lucy, nothing slips past you.”

The girl turns to me. “Miss Charlotte is our favorite, she’s the best instructor,” she explains to me. “She dances beautifully.”

Charlie’s cheeks flush immediately.

“Will you dance for us, Miss Charlotte?” All the girls seem to sing in unison. Though it takes her a moment, Charlie finally agrees.

“Girls, let’s first see if Miss Charlotte feels up to it,” a lady who looks to be in her mid-thirties says. “She has had a long three weeks. She’s still getting better.” She looks at Charlie with sad eyes. “Do you feel up to it?”

Charlie seems to think things over thoroughly, and then nods. “If I don’t, I’m letting them win.”

The older woman pats her shoulder, and, with teary eyes, gives her a nod. Charlie is standing up to her attackers today. She’s living and doing what she loves. I feel part of me swell with pride as I can see that some part of her, no matter how small, really is beginning to heal. 

I stand in awe as I watch Charlie flip, twist, spin, and twirl her body in such graceful and smooth movements that I’m in shock. The girls all take in each stride carefully, studying each movement. Though I honestly have no idea what she is doing or how she is doing it, I know enough to know that it’s not only beautiful, but flawless.

As Charlie comes to a slow, graceful stop, the girls all begin to clap and cheer. One of the youngest and smallest of the girls pushes through the others to stand at Charlie’s feet. Charlie looks down at her and smiles as the girl begins to speak. “Miss Charlotte, will I ever be as good as you?”

She smiles before leaning down and putting herself at eye level. “You keep practicing and working as hard as you do, Pippa, you will be as good as whoever you want to be.”

A big smile spreads across her face, and she wraps her small arms around Charlie, who pulls her into a tight, warm hug.

“Alright girls.” The older lady smiles. “Let Miss Charlotte breathe; you still have practice.” She turns toward Charlie, smiling, as the gaggle of young girls rush off toward the mirrors. “Charlie, I’m,” she pauses. “We are so…”

Charlie calmly holds out a hand. “It’s okay.” She smiles. “I’ll keep getting better.”

The lady steps forward, opening her arms to wrap Charlotte in them. “I have to be frank,” she whispers rather loudly. “Who is the fine specimen standing over there?”

This time, I have to look up at the ceiling to fight off laughter. I know she’s talking about me, but I don’t think there was ever a time in my life when I was referred to as a ‘fine specimen.’

“He’s actually the police officer who was assigned for my protection,” I hear Charlie say. “But, one thing kind of led to another, and I think we’re,” she pauses. “I think we’re…see, one thing led to another…” She lets out a nervous little laugh, “I really don’t know how else to put it, but I think we’re dating.” She makes a funny face. “The entire situation has been odd. They normally don’t assign protection like this, but something about making me more comfortable,” Charlie explains. “He and I have gotten really close, not meaning to.”

A look of shock spread across the other lady’s face as she smiles. “So scandalous.”

Charlie laughs. “Would you like to meet him?”

The lady nods. “Yeah, of course I would!”

She walks her over to me, smiling. “Sarah, this is Nick,” she turns to me, “Nick this is Sarah, one of the other instructors; she basically got this job for me.”

She extends her hand to me, and I receive it in a firm shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Charlotte here, is one of our more experienced dancers.” She smiles. “Incredible talent, deserved to go to Julliard. But, those judges couldn’t pull their heads out of their asses long enough to recognize real talent if it bit them in the balls.”

Charlie’s face flushes. “I don’t know about that.”

“Well, I don’t know much about dancing,” I say. “Actually, I know nothing at all, but I know that whatever you just did was beautiful. I had no idea the human body could bend like that,” I admit.

Sarah reaches out and pats me on the arm. “See, he gets it.” She turns to Charlie. “You have real raw talent.”

“I always stand by the fact that I teach much better than I perform,” Charlie states matter-a-factly.

Sarah laughs. “Are you kidding me?” She looks at me.
“Do you have any idea how many competitions this girl has stolen?”

Charlie’s cheeks begin to turn a bright shade of red. “Trust me, it’s not that many.”

Sarah shakes her head. “Try twenty-four.”

My mouth drops. “Why are you being so modest?” I ask her.

Sarah shakes her head. “She’s been that way ever since those damn fools at Juilliard turned her down.”

“Well,” I start, “it’s obviously their loss.”

She smiles at me and moves in for a quick hug.

“Oh,” Sarah starts. “We have some of your adult contemporary class coming soon. You should stick around if you can; I know the girls would love it.”

Charlie laughs. “Yeah, sounds like they have it out for Anabelle.”

“Eh, you know how she is with the kids,” Sarah says. “She’s counting the days until you come back.”

“Hell, I’m counting the days until I come back,” Charlie says.

“How much longer do you think it will be?” She asks.

Charlie shrugs. “Not sure. Soon, I would guess. I seem to be healing physically; it’s the mental healing that I’m working the most on…it’s hard.”

Sarah gives her shoulder a gentle pat. “You’re doing great, though.”

Charlie smiles and thanks her as a swarm of adults enter the room. I can only assume they’re Charlie’s adult contemporary class, as they all rush to greet, hug, and ask how she’s doing. She seems nervous and a tad overwhelmed at first, but it’s easy to see that the adults are quick to pick up on her uneasiness, and have no issues giving her a little space. It’s also easy to see that they’re all asking her to stay for a bit. She hesitates, and seems to think things over in her mind. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and rubs at one of the marks on one of her wrists.

Finally, she glances at me for a moment. “Feel up to staying for a bit?”

I nod my head. “Of course. I’ll just hide in the back somewhere.”

* * * * * *

I scurry to a back part of the room where a few chairs are lined. I begin to watch as Charlie carefully instructs the group of adults and reminds them where they left off before her incident. I watch in complete shock as Charlie begins to Tango, Waltz, Jive, Quick Step, and move in ways I never knew existed. She praises each of the students, letting them know how well they’re doing, and continuously apologizes for missing so much time with them. She looks exhausted by the time she begins to stroll toward me. She wipes at her forehead with her left hand for a moment and blows a strand of hair from her eyes that has fallen free from the bun.