Watching Over Me: A Dreams Novel

by Kamery Solomon

  “I do want you to know.” His voice was calm and collected now, moving toward me, causing us to meet in the center of the room.

  An electric shock went through me as his hand touched mine, fingers lacing together. Pulling me close, he wrapped his other arm around me, resting his forehead against me.

  “After last night, how could I not want you to know? It’s me holding it up, my own . . . issues. Thank you for understanding.”

  “Not a problem.” I could feel the breath leaving me in one swift motion, my body begging to collapse and rest in his arms. “Do you feel this?” I whispered, tightening my grip on his hand. “Do you feel like you’re melting when we’re together?”

  “No.” His breath warmed my skin as he leaned in further, his lips lightly brushing over mine, teasing me. “I feel like I’m flying.”

  Letting go of his hand, I reached up and pulled his mouth to mine fully, kissing him with all of the strange emotions brewing inside me. He was a stranger, but not at the same time. I felt like I knew him without knowing anything about him.

  Grasping me around the waist, he kissed me back, his tongue flicking into my mouth, tasting me. The moan that answered him persuaded him to deepen the kiss, his hands traveling lower, sliding over my practice skirt and under it, gripping my butt tightly.

  Carefully, I felt for the edge of his hood, pushing it back and running my fingers through his hair.

  “Scarlet,” he said against my mouth, stiffening.

  “Your hair is so soft,” I giggled. “And it smells wonderful!” Inhaling deeply, I started to bring my hands back to his face, only to have him reach up and grab them away faster than I could blink.

  “Thank you,” he replied awkwardly. “I think we should get to work, though, before we get carried away.”

  “Right.” Disappointment ruffled through me, but I shook it off, breathing deeply as I tried to get back in practice mode. “What are we doing tonight?”

  “I thought we’d go through some of your Nutcracker choreography, if you don’t mind teaching it to me.” He sounded like he was trying to gather himself as well, stepping away from me.

  “Lutz did ask me to work on one part.”

  “Perfect, let’s start with that. What did he say you were doing wrong?”

  We fell into a comfortable pattern after that. I taught him the dance and then performed it for him several times until he felt like I was at the pacing I needed to be.

  “Lutz has done an exceptional job from what I’ve seen,” he said appreciatively after about an hour. “Was this all you worked on today?”

  “No, we learned a lot of the show, but the other thing we focused on the most was the beginning scene, when we come in as couples.” Breathing heavily, I shrugged. “I can teach you that one if you’d like as well, but I can’t show you the guy’s part. I only know how it goes with mine. Can you hand me my water?”

  Picking the bottle up and putting it in my hands, he laughed. “I think I can figure it out well enough. All you have to do is tell me the steps.”

  “Fine by me.” Taking a big drink, I wiped away some water that ran out onto my chin, coughing some. “Leave it to me to choke,” I snorted. “At least it was on water and not in the dance.”

  “Do you worry about choking?” He sounded curious, but mostly teasing, like he knew I would do fine.

  “Not so much before, but I do now,” I confessed. “My dad is flying in to see the show. He’s worked so hard to have me here and I want it to be perfect. I don’t want to be the girl that screwed up and ruined everything.”

  “Hey, you won’t be,” he said comfortingly, coming over and pulling me into another hug. “You look beautiful when you move, Scarlet. You look beautiful all the time, actually. But there’s something that happens to you when you dance, something that makes you shine. It’s perfect. You will be perfect.”

  “Thank you,” I mumbled, resting my head on his chest. “Sorry I’m getting my sweat all over you.”

  “You know what? I think you need a break. All we’ve done is practice your class work and now this show. When was the last time you danced for fun? And I mean really danced, not that ridiculous jumping up and down you did at the Halloween party.”

  “Jumping up and down is fun,” I said defensively, laughing. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I just danced to dance.”

  “Then let’s do it now,” he urged. “One dance before you leave. I can see that you’re exhausted. What do you think?”

  “Yeah, okay.” Chuckling, I stood there, blind, waiting for him to tell me what to do.

  “Let me change the music.” His feet moving away from me was the only other sound I could hear, except for the piano that had been playing in the background.

  A familiar, popular song filtered through the speakers and I grinned, turning toward the sound. “I love this song!”

  “I do, too. It also happens to be very fun to dance to.” Coming back to my side, he took my hands in his, moving me around the room a some.

  “So, what dance are we doing?”

  “Whatever the hell we feel like,” he replied eagerly. “Let me lead. Listen to your body. It’ll be great.”

  Without waiting another second, he pulled me in, his hands moving to my waist as we spun around.

  “Let loose,” he ordered. “Relax.”

  “I’m trying!” Laughing, I let him lead me around the floor, our instincts sometimes getting crossed and our feet tripping.

  It felt exhilarating, to move without any purpose other than to feel. One song changed to another and we kept going, clinging to each other, feeling what the other was giving.

  “Careful!” Chuckling, Sir tripped over me, knocking the two of us to the ground, him on top of me.

  “Sorry!” I didn’t even have enough breath left to snicker, but the smile on my face felt huge. “I thought you were trying to turn me inward.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said, chest heaving against mine. “I’ve been having fun, and that’s something that hasn’t happened in a while.”

  “Why not?” I was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that he was laying on me, our bodies pressing together in a very appealing manner. Warmth formed in the pit of my stomach, spreading through me, my mouth watering slightly as I thought of our last heated kiss.

  “I used to do everything with my brother.” He was relaxing, resting his head on my chest as his hands brushed my sides.

  “Do you not anymore?”

  “No. Not for a few years now.” Falling silent, we continued to lay there on the floor, breathing together. After a while, he spoke again. “You’re going to be tired at warm ups tomorrow.”

  For some reason, this seemed incredibly hilarious to me and I burst into laughter so hard that it made my eyes tear up. “Damn, I have to take the blindfold off,” I said through my giggles. “I’m crying.”

  “Here,” he said, sitting up and straddling me, his hands going to the tie. “Promise to keep your eyes shut?”

  “I promise,” I swore, grinning.

  Carefully, he removed the tie, wiping at my eyes until they were dry. “Your face is so beautiful,” he whispered, running a finger down the side of it. “I could stare at it forever and not know everything there was to know about it. And your eyes! Even closed they draw you in.”

  “You’ve seen my face before,” I replied, laughing.

  “Not this close, though,” he said seriously, caressing my jaw. I could feel him moving over me, laying back on me, his face hovering over my own. “Beautiful,” he murmured again.

  His lips pressed against the corner of my eye softly, trailing down to my mouth, like a feather brushing by me. “Don’t move,” he whispered on my lips, his voice stern.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Kissing down my jaw and onto my neck, his hands found mine and he guided my arms above my head, his fingers dragging back, and moving across my skin, before sliding to my sides. Finding a tender spot over my collar bone, he paused, sucki
ng slightly, his teeth nipping at me.

  Gasping, I did my best not to move, letting myself fly with him as he melted with me. The fire between us burned me again, and I could feel my body telling me to move, just as he’d taught me, but I silenced it, following his instructions.

  After torturing me for a minute, biting my neck softly for good measure, his kisses trailed onto my chest, layering in the valley between my breasts, his hands still brushing over my sides as he slid down. Kiss after kiss touched my stomach, sending shivers through me, until he had slid off me and was kissing my thigh, lifting my leg as he continued down it, lighting all of me into a raging inferno.

  “I want to kiss every part of you, every day. Every time I see you.” His lips brushed across my ankle, and I twitched, arching my back some. “Don’t move,” he ordered again. “I’m not done.”

  “Oh, please don’t ever be done,” I moaned, trying to steady my racing heart.

  “Scarlet.” His voice sounded strained, his hands massaging my leg, untying my shoe and sliding it off. “What do you feel when we’re together?”

  “Fire,” I whispered. “Like my whole world is going up in flames.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’ll miss you this weekend.” Smiling, I reveled in the feeling of Sir’s hands as they slid down my legs. I was standing at the barre, on pointe, as I so often did, no inclination of where he was except for when he touched me. He was feeling my feet now, one hand lazily stroking my other leg.

  “It’s only a few days,” he murmured. “Your ankle looks and feels wonderful, Scar. It’s like you never even injured it in the first place.”

  “I didn’t realize you were still watching it,” I confessed. “And yes, it’s only a few days but I’ve been seeing you almost every day for the past month and a half. Now I’m suddenly going away with Meg for Thanksgiving and you’re not going to be there.”

  “Again, it’s only a few days.” Rising, his hands slid all the way up my body as I lowered to flat feet, and he turned me around to face him. “You deserve the rest. You’ve been working hard in all of your lessons and rehearsals. And it’s showing—you should feel very proud of yourself.” Thumb brushing over my lips, he leaned in and kissed me thoroughly, holding my head to his. “It will be a long few days, though.”

  Almost a full three weeks had passed since rehearsals for The Nutcracker began, since my lessons with Sir became a little—okay, a lot—more intimate. The more time I spent with him, the more connected we felt. Often times, I would forget that he was still practically a stranger, trusting him with an innermost knowledge of myself. All I knew about him was that he had a brother and he studied dance for several years.

  “When I come back,” I asked softly between kisses. “Will you tell me who you are?”

  Sighing, he pulled me into his embrace and rested his chin on the top of my head. “I don’t know, Scarlet.”

  “I don’t know what you’re scared of. I like you for you now. How will that change once I’ve seen your face and know your name?” Resting my head on his chest, I blinked behind my blindfold, wishing I could understand.

  “That’s just it, Scarlet. You don’t know. You don’t understand. And I can’t explain it to you.” Releasing me, he moved away, the sound of his steps going to the side of the room. “I’m different, okay? It’s not something that people can easily get over.”

  “How will you ever know if I’m one who can get past it if you won’t give me the chance? It can’t be that bad. Even if it is, I don’t care. I only want to know you for who you are. Nothing else matters to me.” Stretching my arms out in the direction he was, I took a careful step, not knowing how well received I would be.

  “Scarlet.” Strangled, his voice broke and he sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment before walking toward me. “I can’t. It would kill me if you found out the truth and left.” Taking my face in his hands, he kissed me hard, biting my lip.

  Anger grabbed hold of me then. I’d told him everything about myself, things I hadn’t ever told anyone before. But he couldn’t even tell me his name because he thought I’d leave him? Had all the time we’d spent together not been enough to show him that I really, truly liked him? Grabbing onto his arms, I pushed away. “But—”

  “Don’t ask questions,” he growled, silencing me as he pulled me back toward him. “I love you, Scarlet. That’s all you need to know.”

  “What?” Shoving back again, I stumbled, falling to the floor. “Ouch!”

  “Are you okay?” His hands touched my arms, trying to help me up as concern flooded his voice, but I scooted further away, swinging at him. If he’d been hoping that his confession would drop the subject of who he was, he was dead wrong.

  “No! You won’t even tell me your name, but you’ll tell me you love me? What kind of shit is that?” Rage fueled my fire this time, aided by the hurt in his denial. “What kind of love is that? If I don’t know who you are, how can I return it? What kind of life would we have, with only one of us knowing the other?” Scrambling to my feet, I reached up and yanked the blindfold off, barely catching his quick turn as he moved away from me, his hoodie hiding his identity again.

  The silence that filled the room as I looked at his back could have been cut with a knife. Tears pricked at my eyes, until they fell down my face freely.

  “Even now, when I’m about to walk out of here, you won’t tell me. That’s not love, Sir. That’s selfish.”

  “Scarlet, wait,” he said urgently. “Please, don’t go.”

  “Show me your face and I’ll stay.” Hands balled into fists at my side, I waited for him to turn, counting to one hundred in my head.

  “I love you, Scar.” He sounded broken and lost, the pleading in his voice begging me to stay.

  “All of the nights I’ve spent with you, dancing, feeling your touch and kisses all over me, I’ve not yet seen one thing that says to me you love me.” Crying, I swallowed hard, trying to keep my emotions under control for a moment longer. “And worst of all, I feel like I could say I loved you, too, without even knowing anything about you. But I wouldn’t even be able to say your name when I did it.”

  Blinking hard, I tried to clear my vision. I turned from him, grabbing my bag off the floor and leaving the room. I prayed he would follow me.

  He didn’t.

  “That’s some deep stuff, Scar.” Meg was shaking her head, chewing a piece of gum as she drove the rental car out of the city. “I can’t believe he told you he loves you.”

  “I can.” I sighed. “Because I believe him. I don’t know what to do. We’re going to get back after the weekend and . . . what? Will he still be there? Will I ever see him again? I have no idea.” Resting my head against the glass of the passenger window, I frowned, watching the other cars leaving the city with us.

  “Don’t worry about it right now,” she said sympathetically. “I know that’s hard to do, but we’re going away for the weekend. You can listen to my mom talk everyone’s ear off about how great London is, and her glory days in the company. Before you know it, you’ll be asking her to share her life story with you.”

  Laughing humorlessly, I suddenly felt the urge to cry, tears gathering in my eyes. “Shit,” I mumbled, wiping the offenders away.

  “Hey, it’s going to be okay!” She tried again to cheer me up, smiling oddly at a car that drove by in an attempt to garner a funny reaction. It didn’t work.

  “What if he’s not there, Meg?” I asked sadly. “What if I pushed him too far before he was ready?”

  “Then it’s his loss, sweetie.” Her voice was soft as she reached out and took my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “You can’t have a relationship with only one side.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m only talking about me.” Shaking my head, wiping away the last of the tears, I let a cleansing breath loose and smiled. “How have you been? It feels like I haven’t really talked with you in ages.”

  “Eh.” She stared straight ahead, placing both hands on the wh
eel. “Colt’s movies got signed. He’s out for the season.”

  “Oh no! Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She laughed, her smile lighting up her face. “It’s not like we were exclusive or anything. This is really great for him.”

  “Will he still be coming back for the showcase rehearsals like he said?” She may have been acting fine, but something was off with her. It seemed like she was really upset about this news, but was trying extremely hard to not let it show.

  “Beats me.” She shrugged, changing lanes.

  The conversation died down a little after that, the two of us lost in our own thoughts, until we finally arrived at the Carpenter’s house, about two hours from the city and its suburbs.

  It was a large house with lots of windows, overlooking the ocean from its perch on a slight hill. White shutters accented the green paint and flowers grew along the walkway. Smoke rose from the chimney, each windowpane aglow from the inside. Pulling into the gravel driveway, Meg parked the car and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.

  “Home sweet home,” she said, smiling.

  The next few days passed in slow motion it seemed, my body not used to no practice for such a long period of time. We would stretch for an hour in the morning, at Meg’s mother’s request, but that was it. The time passed in silence, with the only conversations had over meals. It seemed that everyone was content with keeping to themselves on their vacations.

  On the day before we were supposed to leave, I sat looking out the window, watching the surf lap the shore in the frosty air. Just barely in view, I could see what looked like a house that had burned down, which I found curious for such a pristine view.

  “Do you know what happened there?” I asked Meg, who was sitting in a reading chair with a book next to me.

  “Huh?” Looking to where I pointed, she shook her head. “I think that happened before we bought this place. Hey, Mom?”

  The former famous ballerina poked her head out of her office down the hall, her blonde hair piled high on her head, glasses on her face. “Yes?”