Page 62 of On Dancer
“Of course, sweetheart.” Undeterred, Margie’s tone stayed tender and indulgent. “You make your plans. We can be patient.”
“What you are is incorrigible.” I gave both our mothers a firm look. “And we love you, but if you’ll excuse us, Rudy promised me a game of billiards before I have to leave.”
“Is billiards what they’re calling it these days?” Margie twittered, and my mother didn’t help matters with her own giggle.
“Mother.” I glared at them. “Both of you.”
With that, I grabbed Rudy’s arm and dragged him toward the basement stairs before his irritation could bubble over. I was so used to being the cranky one that seeing him frustrated was adorable.
“Well, that went way better than I hoped.” I leaned against the pool table, truly relaxing for the first time all morning.
“And way worse than I imagined.” Groaning, Rudy collapsed next to me, head falling on my shoulder. “They’re already planning a wedding.”
“They’re cute when they get pushy.” I wrapped an arm around him, squeezing him tight.
“You’re okay with their scheming?” Rudy swiveled in my grip to peer intently at me. He had his contacts in, which always made his eyes seem a little darker and shinier.
“It’s going to happen sometime.” I shrugged. “Might as well let them have their fun.”
Rudy made a sound somewhere between shock and indignation. “You make it sound inevitable.”
“It is.” Not letting him pull away, I kissed his forehead. “Neither of them would ever forgive me if I didn’t make an honest man of you.”
“Is that the only reason?” Not joining my laughter, he went even stiffer in my embrace.
Trying to hold on to him when he was this rigid was a losing proposition, so I cupped his face instead. “Well, that and I love you and want to keep you around forever.”
“I love you too.” Expression softening, he offered me a sweet kiss. He’d undoubtedly intended it to be sweet and fast, but refusing to release him, I deepened the kiss into a longer embrace that left Rudy far more pliant as he sagged against me.
“Also, I’m told adoption is far easier if the couple is legally married first,” I said conversationally, taking advantage of his breathless state.
“Shush.” Rudy glanced back at the stairs, but his small smile seemed far more pleased than truly irritated. “Don’t let them hear you say that.”
“I want a family with you, Rudy.” I reached out to guide his gaze back toward mine, so he could see how very serious I was.
“I want that more than anything.” His jaw trembled under my fingers, but his voice was firm. As was the kiss he gave me. Uncaring that we were in my parents’ basement, I kissed him back with a fierceness better suited to the bedroom. Oh well. A little passion wouldn’t hurt anything.
Hot as the kiss was, it also felt like the sealing of a promise of a future as inevitable as us falling in love had been. I couldn’t wait to jeté my way into that future together.
Thirty-Three
En avant:to travel forward.
Rudy
Right, left, or center?I turned a critical eye on the small dining table at Alexander’s apartment, trying to decide where best to place his Valentine’s Day card. He’d left for the theater hours ago, so I’d spent the afternoon preparing an after-show retreat for him. I’d arrived for my second visit a few days earlier, and as this one was slated to last most of the month, I felt justified in making myself more at home.
Besides, Alexander had outright told me to feel free to do whatever I wanted to make the place more comfortable. He likely meant arranging things so I had a workspace for my remote work, but I’d run with the permission nonetheless. I’d brought a lengthy to-do list with me for the ballet school, and I fully intended to deliver so the board wouldn’t regret allowingme to work remotely. It likely wasn’t a permanent employment solution, but then neither was Seattle.
Alexander would finish out the season here, and then we could apartment hunt in Philadelphia. In the meantime, though, there was no reason this place couldn’t feel more like a home. While Alexander had been busy all week with tech week, dress rehearsal, and publicity obligations, I’d discovered an adorable home goods thrift store in the University District. I’d stashed away all my finds until today.
As soon as Alexander had left, I’d gone to work on my mini-apartment makeover. I shook his gray comforter into a cheery red and white duvet cover, added colorful throw pillows to his couch, along with a soft, cable-knit blanket for him to curl up with. I’d found some cheap frames at the thrift store to grace his bare walls with a collection of programs and pictures from Alexander’s last few shows, along with a couple ofOdysseyprints for fun. A few flameless candles, some aromatherapy, and a bottle of massage oil completed the staycation vibe. I set the table for a late-night feast, finally deciding to prop my card against the vase of flowers I’d picked up at the market.
I’d accepted a grocery delivery earlier in the day, so the fridge was full of ready-to-eat things for after the show. Convinced I was acing House Husbandry 101, I spruced myself up with a shower and shave and put on the nifty plum-colored velvet jacket I’d found while thrifting. Our parents had arrived on the same flight earlier in the day, and I’d encouraged them to get a swanky pre-performance dinner near the theater, which was a short walk from Alexander’s apartment.
I met them in the soaring lobby of the historic theater, near the grand staircase. My father and Alexander’s were deep in conversation about whether Seattle merited an expansion basketball franchise, but our mothers had to fuss over my fresh haircut and outfit.
“You look so handsome.” My mother snapped a dozen quick pics with her phone.
