“That sounds fun.” He glanced over at me, grinning, and then continued on with his chore. “We would make cookies on Christmas afternoon. I don’t think I ever considered it a tradition—it was just something we did. When Adam and I got so into dance, we would go to a show for the season as well, usually something like The Nutcracker. All of that stopped after he died, though.”
Stepping back, he eyed his handiwork, the green branches of our tree sparkling in all their celebratory wonder. We’d placed it next to his dining chair, tucked into the corner where it would be out of the way.
“It looks good,” I praised him, picking up a few decorations and holding one out. “Want to help finish it?”
Taking the glass ball from me, he slid the flimsy hook over a branch, sighing as he did so.
“Did you ever see the Radio City Christmas Spectacular?” I asked, trying to get his mind back to happier things. “My dad and I used to watch the recording of it all the time, especially when it first came out. I loved seeing all the dancers in the city. It was a dream of mine to go to it this year, but I didn’t every get the chance.”
“Yeah, we went a few times,” he confessed. “It’s pretty good. The Santa dance was always my favorite.”
“I loved the whole thing.” Coming over beside him, I hung a candy cane on the tree, smiling as I thought of all the Christmases I’d done this exact thing with my mom before she died.
“You okay?”
I hadn’t realized my eyes were watering slightly and I chuckled, wiping the wetness away. “I’m fine. I was thinking about my mom. Christmas was her favorite holiday. She would plan the decorations for months. At least, that’s how it seemed. Maybe the kid in me remembers things differently.”
“But you always felt like it was a grand event.” He continued, finishing my thought.
“I really did. I remember that first year, after she died. Dad had tried to decorate, but he was still so upset. It was hard for him to pull all of it out when it reminded him of her. He was trying to make me feel like it could still be the same, but it looked so awful.” Laughing, I wiped away a few more tears. “So bad. We ended up sitting in the living room next to a knocked over tree, eating the popcorn garland he’d spent forever making while we watched some comedy. Oddly enough, it was one of the best Christmases I can remember. I think it was something about the two of us being close together while we were both hurting.”
“Well, I don’t really have any touching memories,” he said, chuckling uncomfortably. “But we would go out with Dad every year and cut down a real tree to decorate. Mom was good at cooking, so we always had turkey, or ham, or some other animal to eat. Adam and I would play video games. One year, we went ice skating upstate somewhere. I think my family worked more off of what they felt like doing right then, versus a tradition we kept every year.”
“It sounds like you still had fun.”
We fell silent for a few minutes, hanging various baubles around as the music filled the space around us. Outside, the snow continued to fall, the flakes large and wet now as they covered the ground, building banks and softening the world, locking the heat inside the apartment with us.
“Wait!” Stopping him from putting the angel on top, I snickered, setting it back in the box. “She has to go on last. That’s a tradition, too.”
“Excuse me,” he said in mock offense. “Do you want to put her on when it’s time?”
“I don’t care.” Shrugging, I finished off the few things I still had to put up and I backed away, motioning for him to go ahead. “You do it,” I said softly.
Carefully, he placed the beautiful topper in its spot, moving to join me. “It looks wonderful.”
“And just think,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. “You wouldn’t have had one at all if it weren’t for me.”
“This is true.” Disentangling himself from me, he crossed to the bed, gathering the gifts Dad had mailed to me and setting them in their spot beneath the branches. “You look like you’re going to have quite the time.”
“You, too,” I replied, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I wasn’t going to get you anything, did you?”
“You got me something?” His face went blank, surprise in his eyes as he looked at me. “I haven’t had presents in years.”
“That’s a damn shame, if you ask me. Of course I got you something!”
“What is it?”
“You can wait two days to find out.” Rolling my eyes, I sat down on the bed, looking at the tree again. “Thank you, by the way. For getting the tree. I like it very much.”
“What’s Christmas without a tree?” He was only joking, but I could tell that my thanks had touched him. “So, we did the decorating thing. What other traditions do you want to keep?”
“What about some of yours?” I suggested. “We could go ice skating in the park, before the snow piles up too much.”
“I don’t think so, Scar,” he said uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s not go out.”
“Why not? You can bundle up like you did last time, if you want. There’s tons of things going on that we could go do. We can even go see a show if you’d like. The theatre will be dark; no one would notice you.”
“No,” he replied somewhat forcefully, closing his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he stared at me, his lips pressed together for a second before he spoke again. “I don’t go out unless I have to, Scar. Our trip to UD was for you to get clothes and anything else you needed. I didn’t want to send you alone. Other than that, I’m here. I don’t do the same things as other people.”
Frowning, I looked away for a second, before turning and smiling at him. “That’s okay. We can do whatever you’d like.” He was missing so much in here, how could he not see that? Surely, one day he would want to go out and do something?
“What if we made cookies?” Going to the kitchen, he opened the cupboards, looking for what he wanted.
“That would be nice,” I agreed. Searching for something else to say, my eyes landed on my phone on the counter. “And we can watch the recording of The Christmas Spectacular on my phone.”
“I would like that very much.” His eyes shined as he looked at me, his smile so bright that I couldn’t help but return it.
“What kind of cookies are we making?”
“It’s my own invention. The recipe is for regular peanut butter cookies, but you put less peanut butter and add in chocolate and butterscotch chips. I call them Pea-choco-scotch cookies.”
“Let’s get to it then!” Grinning, I moved to stand beside him, ready to make memories.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Time seemed to fly by and, when the break ended, I found myself back at UD, rehearsing more than ever before for our final showcase performances. Meg had returned, acting like nothing had happened, her usual bubbly self lighting up any room she stepped into. She seemed more reserved to me, though, her attention focused solely on dancing. She wasn’t alone in that area, the majority of the students were putting all their effort into being the best they could be.
Eric continued to come help me every night, except for Sundays, when I would go out to Brooklyn and spend my day off with him. It seemed that we were almost the same as we’d been before, except for the sex.
Oh, the sex.
The end of winter break had also found me at the doctor’s office, getting a birth control prescription. It had been put to good use since then; the entire month of January had been like an extended honeymoon for us. I’d gone from no sex to probably more than most couples. While we tried to keep our classes to just dancing, we’d gotten carried away more than once. Sundays felt like heaven, when we spent all day in bed together. Oddly enough, it was starting to feel stale to me, like something was missing from it all.
I knew what it was, too; I wanted him to meet my dad, to spend time with my friends. I wanted to do things that a normal couple did, like go to the movies or out to dinner. He would never agree to any of those things, though. E
verything had to stay a secret, especially after Meg and Colt had seen him and found out who he was.
“Scar?”
“Huh?” Coming out of my daze, I blinked, glancing at his reflection in the mirror as I stretched across the barre.
“I asked if everything was okay?” He smiled gently, waiting for me to answer.
“Yeah, sorry. I was thinking about a few things.” Placing my foot on the floor, I turned and looked at him, grinning back. “So, guess what?”
“You weren’t paying attention and almost over extended your knee?” He was still kinda bossy when it came to class, but I didn’t mind. I actually liked it.
“No. Valentine’s Day is next week.” Smiling, I turned back to the barre, lifting my other leg and placing it across the beam.
“I know. I’ve been making plans.” He spoke from behind me, as he always did, watching as I worked.
“You have?” I looked at his reflection in surprise. “What kind of plans?”
“You’ll find out on Sunday,” he answered coolly, cocking an eyebrow at me. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now.”
Grinning so wide that it made my face hurt, I leaned further into the stretch. What could he have planned? It had to be different than what we normally did, which meant we wouldn’t be staying at his loft for once. Was he finally going to take me out somewhere? I hoped he was ready to do something like that.
“So, Gini told me about the announcement in class today,” he continued, coming up behind me and placing a hand on my lower back, pushing me down a little further into the stretch.
“Yeah. I think I have an idea of what I’d like to do. I asked Danny if he’d be my partner.”
“They’ve never asked students to choreograph their own number for the showcase before. It will be interesting to see what everyone comes up with. I’m especially keen on seeing yours. I’m assuming that since you asked Danny to be your partner that it’s a duet?”
“It is,” I replied, closing my eyes as he leaned in and kissed the back of my neck. “A special duet. It’s a story about two people, a boy and a girl, who meet and fall in love in secret. I haven’t worked out the details yet, but I have a feeling that it will be great.”
“The story of us?” He sounded surprised, even a little hesitant, but was nodding. “If you can pull it off—I mean really convey the secretive aspect and all that—it would be very beautiful. I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully. Do you want me to help you work on it?”
Shaking my head, I came up and leaned on him, resting on his shoulder. “Not until I’m done with the choreography. I have an idea of how it should look, but I might need help adjusting the guy’s part to fit just right with mine.”
“I can do that,” he muttered, pressing his lips into my hair. “Are you ready to work on your number for the main ballet?”
“Are you ready to work on it?” I teased, turning and kissing him on the lips.
“It’s been a while since you had me wear one of these.” Snickering, I let him lead me down the unfamiliar hallway, wondering what he’d planned for our Valentine’s date. A cab had been sent to pick me up, along with orders to put this blindfold on before I left UD.
“Hush,” he chided me, chuckling. “We’re almost there.”
“What are all these stairs?” I enjoyed ignoring his questions and teasing him.
“Hang on.” Cold air washed over my face as he opened a door, leading me through it. “Okay. You can look.”
Eagerly, I pulled the cloth from my face, sucking in a surprised breath when I saw what he’d laid out for me.
On the roof of his building, which had obviously been decorated for the occasion, twinkling lights were strung overhead, and loads of lit candles sat both on the ground and on various surfaces. In the center was a table, a bouquet of roses laid out over it, as well as some delicious smelling food. Soft music drifted in the background, certainly coming from a player hidden somewhere.
“It’s not much,” he said apologetically. “But I thought you would like it. I know you wanted to go out and do something. I’m sorry, Scar. This is as out as I can get.”
“It’s beautiful,” I assured him, trying to ignore the small sting of disappointment in my heart. “I love it. Thank you.”
Leading me by the hand, he took me to the table and pulled my chair out, acting the part of a perfect gentleman. “You look very nice,” he said, sitting down as well.
“Thank you.”
I knew we could both feel the tension in the air. Wanting so badly to talk to him, I didn’t know what to say, or how to start without sounding selfish. We began our meal in silence, eating the fish slowly as we waited for the other to say something.
“You don’t like it,” he finally said, disappointed.
“No! I really do. It’s just . . .” Grimacing, I took another bite of my food, staring at the flowers between us.
“You wanted to go out. I understand. Valentine’s Day is supposed to be special, something that you go out and celebrate.” Stabbing a piece of lettuce with his fork, his nose twitched, his eyes glued to his plate.
“Eric, no.” Sighing, I put my fork down and pushed the roses to the side so I could see him better. “This is beautiful, and more than appropriate for Valentine’s Day. I’m very touched by the effort you’ve put into all this. Would I have liked to go out? Yes. I thought you were planning on taking me out. But I don’t need to go out to know that you care. I feel like you think this isn’t good enough.”
“It’s not,” he said, finally looking at me. “I can’t give you what you want. All I have is a life in the shadows, hiding from everyone. You’re so beautiful—you deserve to be out there tonight, being shown off to everyone! You deserve someone who will take you to do the things that you want to do.”
“You can do all of those things,” I reminded him gently. “You are the only person stopping you.”
“That’s not true and you know it,” he growled, knowing which direction I was heading in. We’d had this discussion several times, but he still didn’t seem ready to let the darkness in him go.
“It is,” I argued, tired of letting him end conversations he didn’t want to have. “You are literally stunting everything in your entire life for what you think would be the benefit of others. No one cares that you’re scarred, Eric! Did I care? No! Because the fire is something that happened to you, not who you are as a person. If you’d actually started the fire on purpose and plotted murdering your brother, then yeah. I would say you deserved to be horribly scarred and spend your life in solitude, preferably jail. But guess what? You didn’t do that! What happened was an accident! Anyone who is so shallow as to judge you based on your looks alone doesn’t deserve to know you anyway. Why haven’t you realized that yet?”
“Because you know so well what it’s like to have people stare at you,” he snapped. “To have them whisper behind your back, to offer their pity while they’re silently thinking how happy they are that it wasn’t them. I heard them while I was in the hospital, Scar. They were all saying how sad it was, that Adam had died and I lived, like it would have been better if we both died. All that mattered was how I looked now. No one cared about me as a person—since when has humanity ever cared about someone as a person? That’s all we’re taught; people’s worth is based on their looks, or how much money they make, or how big their house is, how fancy their car is, and the list goes on and on. Well, guess what? I don’t have any of those things. I never went to college and my brother is dead, yet somehow he’s still the better child out of all of it.”
“Eric!” I felt like he’d slapped me in the face as he stood up. He shoved away from the table and hurried toward the stairwell exit. “Where are you going?”
“I need to be alone for a while,” he answered gruffly. “Get my head on straight.”
“Wait,” I called, rising and following after him, hurrying down the stairs as I tried to catch him. Thankfully, he didn’t lock me out of the loft as he went insi
de and I slipped through the door, shutting it behind me.
“Just leave me alone, Scarlet,” he said, going into the kitchen and resting his hands on the counter. “I need a little time, that’s all.”
“I know,” I said carefully, not wanting to set him off again. “I just wanted to say this; I love you. Not the mystery of you, not your scars and the story they’ve left you with, not even your dance abilities. I love you. I love the way you hold me when we’re sleeping, the way that you say my name, how your eyes light up when you talk about things that are important to you, everything. I love Eric. Just Eric. And if I can do that, knowing everything about you, why is it so hard to believe that someone else could love you as well? You’ll never know if you don’t give them a chance.”
He didn’t answer me, continuing to stare at the wall in front of him like I wasn’t even there. Slowly, he began taking off his suit jacket, tossing it on the floor without a backward glance.
“Take all the time you need,” I said softly. Quietly, I left, hoping that someday, he might actually hear me when I spoke.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The music swelled in the room as I moved through the motions I’d choreographed, trying to think of how the male part would fit with what I was doing. Everything was coming together just as I wanted it to. Whenever I thought of the showcase, only two months away now, I couldn’t help but feel like I was going to put on the best show of my life.
“It looks good.”
Eric’s voice in the doorway made me jump, and turning quickly, I found him in his hoodie, his face in the shadows, hands in his pockets.
“You’re here,” I said breathlessly.
“Yeah.” Entering the space, he closed the door, finally revealing his face to me. He looked tired, upset, but most of all sorry. “Took me long enough.”
“It was only two weeks,” I replied, shrugging. “Not long at all.”
Watching Over Me: A Dreams Novel Page 15
