Page 17 of Crystal Iris
“Definitely not me.” I wonder if he knows how little it all means to me—the money, the extravagance. At the same time, I know it means a lot to him, so I try to enjoy it.
“Do these people ever take a day off?” I ask when he tells me he’s going to be right back.
“I’m sorry. Why don’t you use the huge bathtub to relax? I promise, this is the last work thing for a while.”
I’m left alone in the hotel room. It’s either take a bath or venture into the shops the day before Christmas Eve.
I drop the robe and step into the giant footed tub, big enough for two. I change the music a few times, searching for the perfect vibe. I want more than just to relax.I want to escape.If I can’t make it to the club, I’ll bring the dance floor to me.
I’m tired of holding back. I’ve been practicing my breathing and concentration since Salem. I guessed the prism was aligned to my feelings—if I can stay calm, steady, perhaps I can keep the energy in it calm too. I’m determined.I need to be in control.
I’m absorbed in the beat, letting my body move in the water when Hoyt comes to mind. I’m about to push the thought away, as I’ve been doing for a while now. But after seeing him yesterday, it’s almost impossible—he’s real,too real.I’m not sure what scares me most: what I felt when I touched him, or the realization that the prism has led me to him before.
It’s a disaster.I’m getting married in a few months, and all I want to do is see him again. I have the urge to try again with the prism, but I hold back. I promised Akira I wouldn’t do such things alone. Though circumstances have changed—she doesn’t know that I’ve met him... She would understand.
“No!” I say it out loud.
He was more beautiful than I remembered: his eyes, thejawline, the messy hair. He looked sharp in the tux, yet so rough. I felt his callused hands in the brief moments we touched, and I ache for it.
I close my eyes, imagining what I wish he would do to me if he ever touches me again. I move my hands and pretend they are his. My prism glows with intensity as I let myself orgasm. Only to be consumed by guilt seconds later.
“Are you ready? We gotta go,” Aaron asks, returning an hour later than promised.
“Yeah, almost,” I say, tying up my hair.
“You don’t seem as excited as I hoped you would be.” He can tell—of course, he can.
“I am. I’m just a little… tired. But I am.”
“I’m sorry I was gone for so long. No more business until after the holidays.” He kisses my cheek.
“That sounds lovely.” I make sure to smile.
The ballet is one of those places I don’t mind dressing up for. I never mind getting ready for art. It deserves to be appreciated. Aaron is ordering us something while I watch the joyful people around us. I’m not sure if it’s the holiday cheer or the event that gives them their glow. Whatever it is, I wish I could bottle up that feeling.
I love everything about the performance. My eyes tear up when I think about how much Mom would’ve liked it too. I think of her twirling me around in the living room, wearing one of her homemade tutus. She was a natural dancer, without training, yet so graceful. There’s something about dance that will always hold a special place in my heart.
On the way out, I beg Aaron to stop for a slice of New York pizza, but he insists on eating at a proper restaurant.
“It’s been a while since we’ve talked. Let’s sit down,” he says.
Nothing would taste better than the cheap, greasy pizza from the corner joint, but I do want to spend time with him. We walk into an Italian place, and my stomach growls at the smell. I want everything on the menu.
“How does it feel to be done with work for a bit?” I ask, munching on the breadsticks.
“I don’t think I’m going to know what to do with myself, honestly. It’s been a while since I took any time off.” He looks extremely tired.
“It really has, probably since… Mexico.”
“No, or maybe… Wow, it has been a while.”
“Two years, Aaron.”
“I’m sorry, work has been crazy… but I didn’t realize it bothered you.”
“I’m okay with it if that’s what you want to do. You just look worn out.”
“Ouch.”
