Page 52 of On Dancer
“They look edible enough.” I couldn’t be less hungry, but I took a bite of the nearest puff pastry shell to show gratitude for his efforts. The tightness around his mouth and eyes remained.I swallowed, the pastry leaving a soggy lump in my throat. “And let’s go ahead and hear why you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad.” He was a terrible liar, which was part of why I so often won when we played the game. He wore his emotions openly in contrast to my carefully honed guardedness.
“I know I’m not the best at telling when I’ve offended someone, but even I can tell you’re upset.” I’d been blunt with Tavio, but I tried for a far gentler tone with Rudy. “You heard Tavio and me talking. Yes, there’s an offer from Ballet Philadelphia, but?—”
“It would be a step backward for you.” Studying his untouched plate of food, he sighed heavily. “I understand.”
“Do you?” I wasn’t sure I believed him.
“Of course I do. You’ve worked super hard to become a principal at one of the best ballet companies in the country.” Setting his plate next to his drink on a side table, Rudy ticked my reasons off one by one on his fingers. “You have an international reputation. You fought to rehab your injury. You don’t have any reason to consider a move.”
Hell. That last one hit me like an errant foot to the groin, my own misstep painfully clear. I hadn’t thought about him or my family, for that matter, only my desire to prove myself on the biggest stage again. But, of course, he’d taken my words personally.
“I didn’t mean?—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Tone as dismissive as mine could too often be, he waved a hand. “I’m not feeling very celebratory though. I might take an earlier train back to Hollyberry.”
“Rudy.” I croaked his name. Genuine pain spread across my chest. I had to set aside my plate before I dropped it. I’d screwed up. “Do you want me to stay?”
I licked my parched lips, caring so much more about his answer than I would have thought possible.
Twenty-Eight
Contretemps: to move against time.
Rudy
“No.” It was the most difficult syllable I’d ever uttered. My hands shook to the point I was glad I wasn’t holding my plate any longer.
“No?” Alexander, damn him, noticed my trembling and grabbed my hand, held it tight. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing as if he’d expected a different answer. He wasn’t the only one.
“Don’t look shocked.” I managed a mildly scolding tone. “We’ve said all along that New Year’s was the end. You have something to prove back in Seattle.”
I’d overheard enough of the conversation to know that the worst thing I could do was beg Alexander to stay. Despite Alexander’s assumption, I wasn’t mad about his refusal to consider the offer from Ballet Philadelphia. He’d been honest.Nothing was keeping him here, and everything was waiting for him back in Seattle. My head throbbed and my neck ached. Mad, no. Hurt, yes.
“I do want to prove I’ve returned to my prior form.” Alexander pursed his lips. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
“I care about you too.” I didn’t doubt his words, and there was no point in my lying either. The truth was in every kiss and touch we shared, but I wasn’t going to abuse his care with a request he shouldn’t consider. Where would we be if I said yes? I did want him to stay, but I wasn’t willing to let him sacrifice his dreams for me. His misery was far too high a price to pay. Moreover, if I did ask, the chance was still high he’d say no. Then he’d feel guilty for hurting me. No, it was better that I say the words. “And it’s because I care that I know your place is in Seattle.”
“You could come visit.” Alexander squeezed my hand. His expression was uncertain as he shifted in his chair. “I’m sure there’s a game store somewhere in my neighborhood.”
“I’m sure there is.” For an instant, I let myself consider visiting, maybe seeing the Valentine’s performance. We’d have a passionate reunion followed by another unhappy parting. Maybe we’d visit a few more times, the time between visits stretching out, and each more awkward until finally the inevitable happened anyway. “I don’t want to do long distance, and I don’t think you do either.”
Besides the obvious drawbacks to a long-distance relationship, this party had underscored our differences. Alexander belonged here among elegant dancers and rich donors, all of whom were effortlessly fashionable. I’d been unable to follow any of the gossip swirling around me as I’d fetched the food and drinks. My new shirt was half a size too small, and my feet suddenly heavier and clumsier. As Kitty hadput it on Christmas Eve, Alexander and I were from two different worlds. Moreover, Alexander knew that fact, which was why he’d made the game store comment. Like a thrift store sweater among designer suits, I wouldn’t fit easily with his Seattle life.
“Not even as friends?” Alexander whispered hoarsely.
I had to squish my eyes closed against the rush of emotion. I didn’t want to be his friend. I wanted to be his lover, his boyfriend, his partner, and his forever.
“That would hurt too much,” I admitted.
“I know.” He gave a pained sigh. “So this is it?”
No longer trusting myself to speak, I nodded.
“You promised me a kiss at midnight.” Alexander sounded so sad that it took all my restraint not to crawl into his lap in an effort to comfort him. “At least give us tonight.” He pulled out his phone, flipping to the train app we’d used for our tickets earlier. “If we leave now, we can catch that earlier train and be back in Hollyberry by midnight.”
I made a frustrated noise. I wanted one last night as much as he did, if only to delay the pain, but I felt honor-bound to point out, “Sex won’t solve anything.”
