by Karen Deen
“You. Painful. Those two words wouldn’t describe you, Zara. Maybe stubborn, sassy, strong, independent… but not painful. Let’s head upstairs, shall we? It may be safer for me that way.”
“You could be right.”
Zara starts to rummage in her bag while looking for her keys. Why do women always have such huge handbags but can never seem to find anything? Alesha and Lilly are exactly the same. Lilly especially. Multiple times, I’ve seen her upturn her handbag on the office desk while looking for a lip gloss.
Frustration starts to show on Zara’s face. I wonder if it’s the same situation every time she comes home.
“Why do you carry so much junk in your handbag? It can’t all be needed.”
“Grant, if I was you, I would just stand there and look sexy while I find my keys. Or so help me God, the calmness I’m trying to maintain will disappear.”
“Yes, ma’am, I can stand here and look sexy if that’s how you see me. I’m more than happy to be your sexy door man.”
“When I find my keys, I am going to stab you with them, right where it’ll hurt most! You won’t look so sexy then, will you?”
My sassy girl is back.
God, I love that smart mouth of hers. I consider if I should keep poking the bear or close my mouth and let her wage her own battle.
“Got them. Why can’t they invent something that makes your keys stand out in your bag, or doors that don’t need keys anymore, just like cars? My life would be so much simpler.”
Looking at Zara under the soft light of the street lamp has me lost in her beauty. I don’t even hear the rest of her rant. Her beauty is so natural, like the way her loose hair frames her face, or her deep brown eyes that glisten in the light. She draws me in to her hidden sweetness. While its always so hard to look away from those soulful eyes, her lips just look so inviting. How I would love to take them with my mouth to taste, touch, bite, and devour them. They’re so plump and ripe, inviting me even though I’d promised to back off.
I follow her up the stairs and give myself a good stern talk. I’m here to let her talk and not interrupt. I’m all ears if she’s going to tell me the real reason why she needs me to back off.
“My apartment is only small,” she says. “Probably nothing compared to where you live. I don’t need much and running my own business, I can’t really afford a lot. I figure I was better to have a small apartment in a good area than a bigger place in an area I don’t feel safe.”
The hairs on my neck bristle. The thought of her in a place where she’s not safe makes me rage. After seeing the conditions Emily used to live in, I would never want Zara in that situation. That is why we do what we do in our business. We try to improve the housing in areas where people need help. Better conditions but at an affordable price. At the end of the day, we make money but not as much as most developers who are just in it to maximize profit. My parents always feel there’s more to life than money. They are so right.
“Absolutely,” I agree with her assessment. “One day I will tell you some of the situations Emily lived through trying to keep her family safe and a roof over their heads. Do what is best for you, Zara. Most importantly though, stay safe. You already know my views about it from the locked door at the studio. Anyway, I don’t care what your home looks like or the size. If you love it, then I will love it.”
Walking through the door into the apartment, it feels like Zara. Just how I imagined it would be. Neat and clean and everything in order. Clean lines but a hint of creativity and free spirit in the accessorizing. The one thing that interests me the most are the photos lining the wall above the television. They’re all housed in black frames of various shapes and sizes, but it’s her life. I haven’t even had time to talk to Zara about family and friends. She knows so much about mine, but I know nothing about hers. However, each and every photo is a vision of love and laughter and it shows me the start of what I need to know.
“Who is this little cutie here holding a much-loved stuffed bunny rabbit? Her beautiful eyes look very familiar.” I turn to see a shy-looking Zara. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. Yet, she appears to be hesitant to tell me.
“You know that’s me, Grant. You don’t need to pretend I was cute. I was just me growing up. Nothing special. Actually, just a plain little girl. My family led a fairly quiet life. About as average as you get around here. Being blessed with fantastic parents was a luxury not everyone had. I discovered that once I started school. You have to be thankful for that.”
“What makes you think I’m pretending or making fun of you in that photo? You remind me of Sophia. Cute and cautious. You look like your bunny is your security against all that’s frightening.”
A clearly-relaxed Zara moves to the photo wall.
“My bunny was everything when I was little. She went everywhere with me. Fluffy was her name. I remember, one day I lost her. I’d been playing on the swings at the park and left her behind when Dad called me for ice cream. It wasn’t until that night we discovered she was missing. I cried a river of tears while my dad drove thirty minutes back to that park looking for Fluffy. Someone must have seen her and placed her on the undercover picnic table in case someone came back looking for her. My poor parents were so worried what they were going to do if they couldn’t find her. Luckily, she came home safe and sound to me. I still have her. There have been times as an adult she’s still there to help me through.” Her arm brushes mine and I feel that familiar connection pass between us and my skin tingles.
“I am sorry there are still times you need her. Regardless of what we are, Zara, like I told Samuel, I will always be here as a friend. Lean on me no matter what’s wrong. I will always protect and comfort you. Never doubt that.” Zara isn’t used to someone wanting to protect her. Her eyes drop to the floor and her cheeks flush. Whatever has happened to her has made her feel she has to tackle life on her own. That’s changing right now. I may not be able to make her mine, but I will make her happy and take on her troubles.
Zara moves forward and touches the photo in question. “I always felt safe with her and my parents. It was like I could take on the world. I’m an only child, so my parents gave me everything, but in a way, that never spoiled me. Even though I had their attention, they still made me work for everything I received. No free rides in our house. The way I will be with my own children. I hope. I grew up with respect and values surrounding me. Obviously like you, who’s been taught the little thing of opening doors for women. That is such a dying tradition but so beautiful. You make me feel special when you do it. My dad always did it for my Mum, too. Just one of the many things that showed me how much he loves her.”
She gestures to the lounge and to sit while she heads to the kitchen. “I’ll make the coffee and you make yourself at home.” There’s rustling in the kitchen with the clinking of cups and the kettle boiling. My thoughts start piecing together the life that was sprawled out before me on the wall. Most photos had either her mom or dad in it, or both. Dancing is Zara’s love, that’s plain to see. There’s photos from mid-teens onwards where she’s in dance costumes or holding awards. Her eyes are full of joy and pride. A few photos are of dance groups but mostly Zara on her own. More recent photos show another guy and girl by Zara’s side. They’re laughing and quite close. My possessive nature starts to rise. Seeing this guy with his arm wrapped around Zara’s shoulders grates me the wrong way.
Shit! That can’t be it, can it? She has a boyfriend? Surely, she would have said something by now. I try to keep calm, but it gets harder by the minute. Movement takes my attention as Zara comes through the door carrying coffee.
“Who is this guy, Zara?” Smooth, Grant. Keep it cool. To be honest, I don’t care how I look. I need to know now.
“Whoa, calm down, Grant. Not sure I need to give you an answer but in the interest of you not losing your cool, Xavier is a friend. No, I don’t have any romantic feelings for him. Yes, I love him like a brother. No, you do not need to feel threatened by him
.”
Feeling like an idiot, I nod as she hands me my coffee. I clear my throat. “And the girl?”
“Xavier’s sister, Natalie. She’s my best friend. They both have been there for me the last few years through thick and thin. I’m not sure I would be where I am today if it wasn’t for them.”
“I’m not one to beat around the bush, Zara. If I want to know something I will never hold back. I will ask and that way there are no misunderstandings. I am sorry if it sounded rude, I just needed to know.”
“You make me laugh. You try to be this big tough guy but deep down you’re just a boy. Jealousy is not your strong point.”
“You should know I don’t share well, Zara. I never have.” I growl. This shit needs to get sorted. Right now. Time to get her talking.
17
Zara
His body language is confusing me. One minute I see the calm, soft side and then he turns to the arrogant cocky Grant. Why is it that I like both sides to this complex man? He calms and heats me up all at once.
I need to tell him why I can’t do this. I need to stop myself from falling any further. If I don’t, then it will be too late. To be honest, it may already be.
“We need to talk about this.” Waving my hands back and forward between us, I see his eyes lock on mine.
“I would be stupid to sit here and try to convince you I don’t feel anything when you’re around me. I was never very good at lying as a child and even worse as an adult. I am not denying that there is chemistry here.” Pausing, I feel my body starting to tingle. “A lot of chemistry,” I whisper. I want to look away, but Grant’s stare holds me in place.
“In a different time, a different place, a different universe, you would have had me that first night, up against the glass in my studio. You had me wanting you in an instant, taking me to a place I didn’t even know. I will be honest with you, I have never had that feeling before. You had me taking notice from the first moment you stormed into my world.” He accepts everything I say like it’s something he’s been waiting to hear. I want him, I want him bad.
“My life is not that simple, though. I don’t know how much you know about me from Emily. In two weeks’ time, I will be auditioning for a spot in the New York Dance Company. This is my life-long dream. To dance as part of that company. It is one of the most elite in the world. I am so close I can taste it.”
“That’s great to hear you’re following your dreams.”
“But, Grant, you don’t understand. If I am successful, I’ll be moving to New York, permanently, until my position in the company is finished. That could be one season or for many years. My age really plays a part in how long. So, I can’t start something that I would then have to end. That is not fair to you or me. I am not good with broken hearts. Not that anyone ever is.”
Grant processes everything. I don’t know whether to continue or not. My head races and my stomach knots. There’s no stopping now.
“I made a decision a few years back that nothing or no one would get in the way of my dream. I know that sounds selfish, but I had to do it. It was the only way to protect myself from being hurt again. Up until a few days ago that vow has not been a problem because no one had tested my boundaries.
“That is until now, until you.”
I feel his hand take mine, his fingers stroking in a soothing motion. I can feel the rhythm of his internal song reaching out to me.
“I can’t let anyone hold me back from my dream. I will always live to regret it and it would eat us both up on the inside.” The near silent whisper escapes my mouth.
Trying to keep my head straight, I ignore my fluttering heart and focus on his closeness.
“I don’t know what kind of man you think I am, Zara.” His eyes heat up and stare straight into my soul.
I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t really know Grant beyond the incredible sexual attraction we have. He’s like no other man I’ve ever met, and I wrongly assumed he’s like all other men. All the men prior to Grant have crushed my dreams in one way or another.
My high-school boyfriend, William, told me I was wasting my time expecting to dance and make a living from it. That I would only be able to dance until it was time to stop and have children. Settle down and be a proper wife, he’d said.
Who writes these rules about marriage and love?
I should be able to have it all. Some parts of society say different, though. Being a woman, I wasn’t entitled to dream, in William’s eyes.
He totally underestimated my stubborn nature. You tell me I can’t do something, it will make me more determined to do it. He’s now married with three children, while his wife is a stay-at-home mother. She is happy and so is he, because that was his vision for his life. When I finish dancing, I can’t wait to stay at home with my children, nurturing them while they grow and giving them all the love and care I can. But now is not the time. First, I have a dream to live.
So, William is married and happy, and I, on the other hand, am still single. So, whose vision was right?
My last boyfriend hammered the nails in the coffin. He was a dancer. He believed in my dream and was happy to be riding that dream with me. He was riding with me purely because my dream had more of a chance of succeeding than his. Sad as it was, he was a passenger on my ride, although he would tell everyone he met, how we were dancing towards our dream together.
Until that fateful day. I really thought he loved me and we would be that couple who got married, pursued our careers and then later had kids. But that was only going to happen if I was his perfect bride. The moment I was broken, I was tossed to the scrap heap. Just like a used electrical item that could be replaced easily with a brand-new model. No point in putting in the effort to get it fixed.
I was only worth something to these two men if I wasn’t dancing or injured.
“I haven’t known you long enough to find out. All I know is what I have seen so far, and I like it. I like it a lot, and I can’t afford to get distracted by you. My last boyfriend was a dancer, Grant. He knew how much I wanted this spot in the dance company. He told me he supported my dream. In the end it was a lie. He fucking lied to me.” The devastation all comes rushing back. My eyes well with tears and I try to finish before I lose control.
“The day I was dropped in a lift rehearsing for my call back audition, my knee was badly injured. So badly the doctors told me I would never dance again.” My voice grows weak. “My world was ripped out from under me. It was all I had dreamed about from a young age. It was within my grasp and then it was all gone. I laid in my hospital bed sobbing in my mother’s arms, asking where Mark was and wondering what would happen to me. It took three days for him to turn up at the hospital. He was distant and after my parents left the room he told me it was probably best we split up. I was in total shock. His reasoning was that he was going places with his dancing and I would only slow him down now that I could no longer dance.” There’s no stopping the tears now as the dam wall breaks. Having to voice my past brings everything back like it was yesterday. The harsh rejection, the feeling of being so broken and worthless.
I bury my head in my hands. I feel stupid for breaking down. It doesn’t last long, though. Before I know it, strong hands pick me up and move me across the sofa. Grant lowers me onto his lap and lifts my chin with his finger. Tears stream down my cheeks.
“Let it out, Zara. I am here for you. Time to let it out and move on. But before you do, know this. I would never be that guy. Everyone deserves to have dreams and to reach for the stars. No one has the right to tear those dreams down.” Leaning his head closer to mine, the tears lessen but my breathing hitches.
“Chase your dreams until you catch them. I will be right behind you, lifting you up so you can reach them. Until such a time as you have reached them, I will never let you give up. Your dreams shouldn’t come between us, Zara. Your dreams will become my dreams too. If you are successful, I will step back and watch you live your dream. I will wait for you.”
“That is why I can’t do this, Grant. I could never ask you to do that,” I whisper as he runs his hand up the back of my neck. The goose bumps follow his firm touch. Sensations are triggered through my body. My mind gives me all the reasons why I shouldn’t be doing this. But my body screams at him to take me. Right here, right now.
Dipping his head, I feel his breath on my neck and I lean to the side to give him the access he wants. I’m giving him the go-ahead. The green light to proceed. Proceed to what, I’m not sure, but I know I want to find out.
“Zara, I won’t hold you back. Give me the opportunity to show you what it is like to have someone travel that dream with you.” The first touch of his lips on my neck stops my breathing, a small moan escapes from my mouth. “Let me show you what it can be like. Just for one night be mine. No strings. Just stop and feel. Trust me.” I even form a whisper, as his tongue slides up my jaw to my ear. “If you still want me to walk away tomorrow, I will, I give you my word.”
My body quivers and my brain stops working. While I struggle putting a sentence together, I know Grant’s word is solid. He will respect my decision.
I should be saying no. Fuck, I need to say no. Instead, my lust answers for me, knowing tomorrow I will never be able to walk away.
“One night is all I can give you. Just tonight. No more talking, just show me. Please just show me what I’ll miss out on.” I stumble through my words, softly panting while his fingers push up into my hair.
The restraint of the last few days finally breaks free. Grant looks like he wants to consume me. He may hide behind his arrogance but right now he’s a man consumed with want and lust. It oozes from his every pore.
Grant is so sexually turned on, but he’s holding back. Why hasn’t he taken me? My body is here for the taking.
“Grant, please. Please touch me,” I beg. Never have I begged a man.
