Reasonable Doubt 3 (12 page)

Read Reasonable Doubt 3 Online

Authors: Whitney Gracia Williams

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica

BOOK: Reasonable Doubt 3
5.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“No worries. I’m sure he’s—” He stopped talking as we approached my house, pointing at the man who was leaning against the door.

Andrew.

I took a deep breath as Andrew walked down the steps.

“Good evening, Aubrey,” he said, smirking. “And your name is
danseur
, correct?”

“It’s
Brian
.”

“Close enough.”

Brian crossed his arms. “I could’ve sworn I overheard her say that she didn’t want you anymore. Why can’t you take the hint?”

“Because she says things she doesn’t mean all the time.” He looked at me, instantly setting my nerves on fire. “And I know she’s just angry with me.”

“Dude!” Brian let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m her boyfriend so clearly she’s moved on…She has a
boyfriend
.”

“I honestly don’t feel threatened,” he said, still looking at me. “Did you get my coffee this morning?”

What?!
“That was from you?” My eyes widened. “I thought…”

“What coffee, Aubs?” Brian looked concerned. “What is he talking about?”

“Andrew…” I shook my head. “Thank you for the coffee, but that doesn’t make up for anything…”

“I never said it did.”

A cold wind brushed by and I felt myself being drawn to him, literally drawn to him, and I took a few steps forward. But then I took a few steps back.

“I’m with Brian now…” I grabbed Brian’s hand and led him up to my door, refusing to look back at a seemingly hurt Andrew.

I shut the door and peeped through my blinds, noticing that he was still standing there. Confused.

“Look, Aubs…” The sound of Brian’s voice got my attention. “I don’t think the two of us are going to work.”


What
? No, no, no. Of course, we will. This is just a minor issue.”

“I think your heart and mind are elsewhere…I think they always have been, actually.”

“Seriously?” I crossed my arms. “Because some psycho from my past shows up for one night and suddenly wants me again? That’s what makes you think that?”

“That, and the fact that some psycho sent me a text earlier today that said, “Her pussy belongs to me.” I’m just now remembering that...”

I sighed and he walked over, kissing my forehead.

“If it’s a minor issue, and he doesn’t mean anything to you anymore, we can try again in a month.”

“A month?”

He nodded. “That way I’ll know for sure, and our phone sex will be twice as amazing since we won’t have had it in so long…Then, maybe we can upgrade to actual sex.”

I said nothing, and he walked out of my place.

I peeped through the blinds again, watching him disappear into the night, and then I noticed that Andrew was still standing outside.

Livid, I stomped down the steps and headed straight toward him. “Do you have any idea how much I hate you right now?”

“Hate isn’t something that can be adequately measured.”

“You just ruined the one great relationship I had in this city. You just made him dump me.”

“Good,” he said. “I did you a favor.”

“Is this how you’re planning on getting me to talk to you again?”

“Part of it.”

“It’s not going to work.” I pressed my finger against his chest, emphasizing every syllable. “I told you that you would have to fucking beg me, and since I know that’s not how you operate—”

“You don’t know how I fucking operate.”

“Are you going to walk me to the subway station every morning?”

“I have a fucking car.”

“Walk me back from rehearsals?”

“Same answer.”

“Actually treat me with some goddamn respect?”

He cupped my face in his hands. “If you give me a chance to…”

I stepped back, still angry. “I’m not holding my breath.”

Omission (n.):

Inadvertently leaving out a word, phrase or other language from a contract, deed, judgment or other document.

Aubrey

Subject: Brian-gate.

I’m not sure how many more times I’ll have to apologize for making your “boyfriend” dump you, but I am, in fact, sorry. Then again, maybe I should have waited until after you fucked him so you could be more appreciative.

—Andrew

“Ugh!” I tossed my phone across the room, nearly knocking over the beautiful vase of lilies he sent me yesterday.

Ever since last week’s “Brian-gate,” I had to face him every day in some capacity. In the mornings, he personally brought me my favorite coffee, walked me to the block where my subway stop was, and apologized profusely. In his own way, of course.

I never said a word back, though. I just sipped from my cup and listened.

Taking a seat on my couch, I grabbed an ice wrap and placed it on my shoulders. I was counting down the days to opening night, wondering how much more pain my body could take.

My feet were now unrecognizable; I no longer soothed their cuts and blisters. The muscles in my arms ached relentlessly, and when I told Mr. Ashcroft that I needed a few extra minutes to stretch my right leg yesterday, he said, “Then I need to replace you with a dancer who doesn’t.”

I cringed at the memory and heard a knock at my door.

“Coming!” I walked over and opened it, tempted to slam it shut once I saw Andrew.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Practice starts in an hour. You’re going to be late.”

“I’m not due there until the afternoon session. Thank you for the reminder.”

“Can I come in until then?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do I really need a reason?”

“I just want to talk to you for a few minutes, Aubrey.”

“We can do that over the phone.”

“You blocked my fucking number.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’ve tried that already today. Twice.”

“Have you tried email?”

“Aubrey, please…” He actually looked sincere.

“Fine.” I held the door open. “But you have to leave in five minutes so I can take a nap.”

He stepped inside and looked around, running his hands over the artwork in the halls.

Looking slightly impressed, he rubbed his chin. “Are your parents paying for this?”

“No, I haven’t spoken to them since I left.” I admitted. “A retired dancer from the company rents out all her condos to the newest cohorts.”

“Is it expensive?”

“Not at all.” I sat on the couch. “It’s the only way I can afford to live in this part of town. Otherwise, I’d be sleeping in a cardboard box.”

He stared at me for a while, not saying a word.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing. It’s just been awhile since you spoke a full sentence that wasn’t filled with malice.”

“Don’t get used to it.” I winced and placed another ice wrap on my shoulder. “I’m just trying to make your five minutes with me somewhat memorable.”

“They will be.”

Silence.

He walked over and sat next to me on the couch. “You got an A on your final assignment at GBH.”

“Did you give it to me out of sympathy?”

“I gave it to you because your work was the best.” He looked into my eyes. “Although, I could have done without the “FYI: Mr. Hamilton used to fuck me in his office” note that was at the end.”

I held back a laugh.

“Jessica misses you by the way.”

“Really?”

“She claims I was much more desirable when you were around,” he said. “And apparently she used to listen to us have sex.”

“What?”

“There’s no point in even trying to fire her anymore…I think she grew on me.”

“Do all the interns still hate you?”

“No.” He smiled. “For some strange reason, they started to like me shortly after you left.”

“Are you insinuating that your asshole behavior was my fault?”

“No.” He pulled me into his lap and took the ice wrap away. “I’m insinuating that I no longer pretend to care about any interns when my favorite one is missing.”

I blushed and he started to massage my shoulders—slowly kneading his hands against my skin.

I shut my eyes and exhaled, slightly tilting my head back instead of telling him to stop.

“Do you plan on ever accepting my apology?” he asked, pressing a kiss against my neck.

“No.”

“Is there any way that I could
make you
?” His fingers gently rubbed my collarbone, alleviating the pain.

“You could tell me the real reason you’re in New York…” I felt him unsnapping my bra. “I know you didn’t come all the way here just to see me.”

He kissed my shoulder. “You
don’t
know that.”

“I’m serious, Andrew.”

“As am I.” He pressed his palms into my back, temporarily rendering me speechless. “You’re a huge part of the reason why I’m still here, actually.”

“And the other part?”

He tilted my head back so I was looking directly into his eyes. “The other part doesn’t really matter.” He looked as if he wanted to kiss me, but he held back.

Instead, he slipped his hands underneath my legs and flipped me over so I was lying in his lap. “What time is your rehearsal again?”

“Four…” I barely managed. His touches felt too good.

“Can I drive you?” He softly kneaded the back of my shoulders. “I can do this to you for longer if you don’t take the subway…”

I nodded and shut my eyes, falling asleep at the mercy of his hands.

Hours later, Andrew pulled over to the curb at Lincoln Center.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and looked at him. “Are you going to be standing outside the ballet hall when I get done today?”

“Probably.”

“With hot chocolate?”

“Would you prefer something different?”

I smiled. “No…”

He leaned over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I thought I was doing the right thing by kicking you out that night, by pushing you away…It was definitely a mistake.”

“I’m not coming back to you just because you said that.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” He trailed his finger against my lips. “I would, however, like you to consider forgiving me.”

“I’ll think about it. Just because you—”

His lips were on mine—kissing me, begging me, saying all the things he couldn’t say with words. And this time I was listening, missing everything we once had before he pushed me away.

Not letting me go, he ran his fingers through my hair and caressed my neck.

“Go think about
that
,” he whispered, slowly pulling away from me.

“Um…” I struggled to catch my breath as he stepped out to open my door.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He kissed my lips before leaving me standing in the middle of the street, completely breathless again.

Shit…

I headed toward the dance hall, confident that I would dance like I was on air today. I opened the doors and felt someone grabbing my shoulder from behind.

“Aubrey?” The voice asked. “Aubrey, is that you?”

I turned around, shocked. “
Mom
? What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you…”

I noticed the pin on her suit, “Vote Smart. Vote Everhart,” and knew that wasn’t true. She was in town for something that had to do with my father’s campaign; I was only a pit stop.

“Well, now you’ve seen me…” I turned away and slipped inside the building.

“Wait, Aubrey.” She followed me. “Do you really think that moving across the country was the best way to get me and your father’s attention?”

“I didn’t leave North Carolina to get your attention.”

“Well, you certainly have it.”

“And look, it only took twenty two years…”

She sighed. “We’ve decided to talk to the department chair about letting you pick up where you left off during the summer semester. We can do that since you’re so upset about being a part of the campaign.”

“I’m not upset. I honestly don’t care.”

“Of course you do.” She sounded offended. “But if it makes you feel any better, we placed a picture of you and one of your ballets in our campaign brochure.”

“Did you do that so you could look like you actually care about college arts?”

“No, we donated fifty thousand dollars to Duke’s dance program to look like we actually care about college arts. The brochure picture was
personal
, although it would’ve been even better if you wrote that essay we begged you to write. We could’ve put that next to the picture. ”

I felt a pang in my chest. “When does your flight leave, mother?”

“Excuse me?”

“When does your flight leave?” I repeated, my voice cracking. “I’m pretty sure it’s in three hours or less so you won’t have to spend a full day here, so you can go back and tell Dad that you tried to convince me to come home after you fulfilled your campaign work. I’m sure that’s still all that matters to you.”

She was silent.

“I left Durham because I’ll be living here for at least three years—which is the length of my contract with the company, where I’ll be pursuing my real dream. And I must say, it’s just a bonus that I won’t be anywhere near you.”

She gasped.

“Have a safe flight. Tell Dad I said hello.”

“You’re just going to leave me standing here?”

“You’ve done it to me my entire life.” I left the building. I was too angry, too hurt, to completely focus.

I sent Ashcroft an email—letting him know I was using a sick day, and headed for the street.

Other books

Hot SEAL by Lynn Raye Harris
Under an Afghan Sky by Mellissa Fung
Cocaine's Son by Dave Itzkoff
Fatal Beauty by Andrews, Nazarea
The Vines by Christopher Rice
Forgiven by J. B. McGee
Abducted by Janice Cantore