Match Pointe

by Amélie S. Duncan

  Sure, there were fellow dancers I could date, but not without Ma’s and my brothers’ interference. Even so, there had been some attraction and kisses. None developed into a relationship, and no one had ever really touched me with passion. No one ever made me feel like I did just standing near Tyler.

  God, there I go again. Tyler Wilson wasn’t interested in me.

  “You look sad. You sure you don’t want me to stay? I’m sorry about showing up, I just miss you, sweetheart.”

  I smiled. “I know, Ma, and I miss you too, but I’m fine,” I assured her. I took a deep breath. “I’m tired too. I’ve got a full day tomorrow.”

  “All right, I’ll catch up with you later in the week to see how you’re doing,” she said. “See? I’m giving you space.”

  “Thanks for coming in, but please try to do something nice with Vince.”

  We kissed each other’s cheeks then I walked through the door held open for me by the doorman and up to my mentor’s suite, my temporary new home. It was very comfortable and stylish, done mostly in an art deco style with marble interior and accents of gold and pink. The place was large and full of antiques and images from decades of performances. Both Priscilla and Michel were retired dancers, and Michel still did some consulting for companies, shows, and movies. They hadn’t put a date on me leaving, and they were also committed to dance, having renovated one of the bedrooms across from the suite I stayed in as a studio for practice.

  Once I had put my things away, I went into the kitchen, where I found Priscilla making steamed veggies with chicken strips. She offered me a plate, which I accepted gratefully, and I sat down. I shared some of my day with her, including some minor discomfort with the shoes I had. As a ballet dancer, shoes were as much a part of my body as my feet. I might wear out a half dozen pairs in a month, with each pair crafted and formed for me.

  “That won’t do,” she said. “I’ll order a custom pair for you from the place I get mine from and show you how I made them last.”

  “I’ll transfer the money from my allowance to cover the new pair,” I told her.

  “You don’t need to,” she said, waving her hand. “Let it be my welcome gift.”

  “No, thanks. Part of being on my own is budgeting my expenses,” I insisted.

  She smiled at me. “I admire your independence, and I’ll take it into consideration.” That was Priscilla’s way of saying she wouldn’t do what I asked.

  I sighed heavily. No one ever took me seriously, except when I danced.

  “So, what happened when you went in today?” she asked. What she really wanted to know was what had happened with Christophe. She’d danced with him for years and was familiar with his style of teaching.

  I grimaced and told her the story.

  “Then you know what to do—work at it,” Priscilla said, offering her insight. That was the way of ballet. If I cried about every disappointment, I wouldn’t have made it this far in my career. As dancers, we learned to regroup, rework, come back stronger, and that was what I would do, even if I wasn’t sure how to go about it yet. In the meantime, I continued to chat with Priscilla about the upcoming practices and rehearsals until my phone alerted me of an incoming text. It was from Zoey.

  Zoey.Wilson: The youth club is in Chelsea. I’ll pick you up.

  Scarlet.Ricci: Nope, just give me the address. I’ll take the subway. Thanks.

  She took me at my word and sent me the directions; I adored her for that.

  I took out my subway map. “I’ve been invited to go to a Boys & Girls Club career day to dance as an introduction to ballet with Zoey. I won’t be gone long.”

  “It’s your day off,” she said casually. “I trust you’ll be responsible. We are both happy to have you here with us, and we believe it’s important you work more independently. There are places you can perform all over the world, and it would be good for Olivia to relax and spend more time on her own. She can’t travel with you forever.”

  She’d certainly tried. London, Paris, Russia—she’d been there for every ballet intensive, and it was time for her to move on with her life. “Yes. My brothers and Vince and I want that for her, it’s just hard. I’ve been her whole focus forever.”

  “Yes, I know, but she means well. She knows the work it takes to stand out,” she said. “However, you must get a chance to try new things. Just leave a note of where you’re going as a safety precaution and have fun this evening.”

  “Thank you,” I said then went off to my room to get ready. I dropped my bag on the four-poster mahogany bed I’d brought from home and did a quick stop at my desk to check my email, which didn’t have anything more than updates of my schedule and a few news stories from magazines I subscribed to. I noticed Priscilla had brought in the mirror from the hall and a few of her oil paintings—to make it homier, I supposed.

  I had trouble deciding what to wear but finally settled on my pink leotard, skirt, and tights. I twisted my hair into twin buns on the top of my head and pinned them in place before finishing off with mascara and lip gloss. Then I headed out on the subway.

  It only took me two subway lines to get there and when I did, I found Tyler standing in front of the school. He was surrounded by kids and they were talking to him enthusiastically. I envied how relaxed he was, posing for whatever selfie they requested.

  I wanted one too.

  I wouldn’t ask, though. Instead, I stood for a few minutes, admiring him. He must have felt the weight of my gaze because he looked over at me. My pulse sped up with every step I took on approach.

  “This is the other beautiful ballerina who will dance for you today,” he announced, winking at me.

  I blushed. He was charming the children and me.

  “Where is her tutu?” one of the kids asked.

  “I have it here.” I pointed to my bag.

  “Let’s get into the gym so we can get started,” Tyler told the children. They went inside the school, and Tyler came forward. He didn’t ask before he placed his hand on my lower back, guiding me inside the building. “Thanks for doing this, Scarlet.”

  I lifted my shoulders. “I was happy to be invited.”

  “Sorry about earlier,” he said.

  I understood he meant the dance in front of Christophe.

  I looked down at the tile floor. “It was…it’s fine.”

  “I meant the name calling.” He grinned. “I enjoyed you groping me in front of your boss.”

  My skin heated and I swiped his arm playfully. Now that I’d had some time to think about it, the dance had been weird, but also freeing. Christophe had forced me right out of my comfort zone, and even though I’d been scared, I had been in Tyler’s arms. I was able to take in his warmth and scent. It was sensually invigorating.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Well, this should be easy. Just twirl and say something great about the ballet. We want the kids to get fired up to sign up for some activities this year.”

  I giggled. “Twirl? I think after Christophe gets through with you guys, you won’t think of ballet as just twirling.”

  “I was joking,” Tyler said. “Don’t tell that guy nothing.”

  We laughed and went into the gymnasium where there were a few tables and booths set up for children to sign up for various sports. I found Zoey already standing by our designated table in her leotard and tulle skirt. I was shown a bathroom, where I quickly put on my skirt and shoes. I returned to an awestruck crowd and did a little leap and twirled, as Tyler put it. Zoey followed me in the steps of the dance in the small demonstration area set up near us in the gym. The children clapped and applauded at every move we made, and it reminded me of my first time dancing before an audience, all surprise and wonder. Zoey and I eased into a discussion of dance and positions. I was having so much fun.

  In between talking, I looked around for Tyler. He would usually be bouncing a soccer ball on his knee or tackling it away from one of the kids. Every time I looked, he would look at me, and a thrill would shoot up my spine. I fought
to not smile.

  It didn’t work.

  When it was time to go, Tyler came over to our booth and thanked us.

  “Scarlet, do you need a ride back uptown?” Zoey asked. “I can get a car for you. I’m staying in Tribeca.”

  Tyler smirked at her. “Where are you staying over in Tribeca?”

  “I’m crashing at your place,” she said and laughed, playfully swatting his back. “You can get up and drop me off on your way to Yankee Stadium tomorrow.”

  “Like that’s convenient,” he argued. “You’re getting a car.”

  “Done,” she said. “Scarlet?”

  I put my bag on my shoulder. “I’m going to take the subway.”

  “No, you’re not,” Tyler said. “I’ll take you home.”

  “Take her home?” Zoey said cautiously, raising her eyebrows. “That’s it?”

  “Come on, it’s Scarlet,” he said with a playful tap on my arm. “She’s like a sister.”

  Zoey seemed pleased with his answer. I wasn’t.

  His words stung. I had hoped earlier that he’d seen me differently, yet he—like everyone else—saw me as a child. I was so sick of it. We all walked outside and when Zoey left, I turned to Tyler and said, “You know, it’s a nice night. I think I’ll go for a walk.”

  “By yourself?” His brows knitted. “I don’t think so. I’m taking you home.”

  “You didn’t take Zoey,” I pointed out.

  “She can handle herself,” he said, and then quickly realized that was the wrong answer. I glared at him and he recovered. “I mean, I live just a few blocks from here, it’s not out of my way to drive you.”

  “I’m not ready to go home.” I jutted my chin out. “I’m going to um…explore the village.”

  “Ha! Just saying it like that makes doing it not a good idea,” he said. “Anyway, a man doesn’t just drive off and leave a lady on the street. Zoey is fine—she’s been around here a lot—but your mom and brothers would kill me if I left you—”

  “Please stop,” I interrupted, holding up my hand. “I’m sick of hearing about what I can’t do. I moved to get away from home because I was tired of everyone in my life controlling my every move. I’m a twenty-one-year-old woman now, not a child.”

  He sighed and crossed his muscular arms, and I had to stop myself from staring at them. “You hungry or thirsty?” The corner of his mouth turned up.

  I shrugged. “Both.”

  He laughed, flashing his perfect, bright smile. “Okay, woman, if I show you a few of my favorite places around the village and feed you, will you go home?”

  I laughed. I wasn’t exactly behaving like a grown-up, but I wouldn’t pass up the chance to spend time alone with Tyler. “Yes.”

  We walked the few blocks to where his SUV was parked and he lifted me up onto the seat without hesitation.

  “Do you lift up all the women you drive around?” I said breathily as I secured my seatbelt.

  “That’s why I got this,” he teased. “To get a good grope of a beautiful woman while pretending to be a gentleman.”

  That had me laughing with him, my insides warming at hearing that he thought I was beautiful.

  A man of his word, he drove through Tribeca, pointing out eateries and specialty shops he thought were good. I asked a question or two, but honestly, I just enjoyed listening to the sultry tenor of his voice, the smile he flashed when he got excited about something he was showing me. The way he’d turn his head and stare at me while we waited for a light sent a shiver up my spine each time he did it. I was enjoying every minute of his company. I didn’t want it to end and was grateful when he stopped in front of a sushi restaurant. “You like Japanese food, don’t you?”

  I tried to stop the wide grin that spread across my face. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

  “Yea, you ate some of it at that birthday party you came to,” he said quietly.

  I tried and failed to hide my blush. That birthday party when you kissed me. It was also the party where he’d saved me from bullies, although it hadn’t ended well due to the misunderstanding that resulted in punches from my big brothers. Still, it was the birth of my craziness over him.

  He placed his hand on my lower back, and it was all I could think about as we moved inside the restaurant. It had an authentic setup with mats and beautifully carved chabudai tables. We removed our shoes and took our seats on the cushions. Tyler ordered short ribs, and I had chicken yakitori. We both ordered a variety of maki.

  “So, tell me about your involvement with the Boys & Girls Club,” I said.

  He rubbed his chin. “Well, it started after I got in trouble. I was kicking a soccer ball against that elementary school and caused damage to a display they had there.”

  “Oh, I think I heard about that from Zoey,” I said. “You had to do something to repair it?”

  “My dad paid for it, but made me work to pay it off,” he said. “He also made me join the club, where I met Marcus. He showed me old videos of Pelé, my soccer hero.”

  “And now you’re a big soccer star,” I half-teased.

  He pushed his hair back and grinned. “Yeah, I am.”

  I laughed at his cockiness, and Tyler joined in with me. I tried to hide the fact that I was gazing at his full, sensual lips when he smiled, at how his eyes seemed to follow my every move, making me speechless.

  Luckily, the waitress broke the tension by appearing with my order of maki and a small cup of sake, which was way too strong of a liquor for me to finish. I lifted my chopsticks and ate a roll. “Delicious.”

  “Yes,” he said. “The best in the village.” We went quiet, until Tyler asked, “Have you ever seen one of our games?”

  “On television,” I said. “I record them and watch them at night or on my days off when I have the time.” I left out the part where I wasn’t watching for the sport. It was solely for those moments when he would score and take his jersey off, and I’d get to look at his well-toned chest and the perfectly defined V muscles at his hips.

  Tyler didn’t question me about my knowledge of his sport. He talked about his practice routine and I shared some of mine. “You should come to a game,” he suggested.

  We then steered our conversation to family, how his dad, an ex New York Jets linebacker, was handling retirement. Tyler’s older brother John and my brother Phillip were both cops, and my other brother, Antony, was an ex fighter, now a celebrity trainer.

  “Antony still beating people up?” he mused.

  I giggled. “He’s mellowed out from taking yoga.”

  His lip quirked upward. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Talking about Antony led us into talking about people from the neighborhood we had grown up in, where my family still lived. He still knew just about everyone I mentioned. I couldn’t believe how easy it was talking to him, though I still felt butterflies when his eyes met mine, when he smiled, or when he just plain breathed.

  “You’re not doing too bad in ballet. Zoey says you’re a soloist now,” he said, rousting me from my thoughts.

  My mouth dropped open. “You talk about me with Zoey?”

  “Sometimes,” he admitted, to my surprise. “She really wants to move up out of the corps. She’s been worried about never progressing.”

  I nodded, not knowing what to tell him. It was hard to accept my own rise in the company and harder to see my friend remain in the corps, though even being in the corps was competitive and a great accomplishment. Rising to soloist was rare, becoming a principal dancer—nearly impossible. I was grateful, though I hoped for Zoey to join me soon. “Yes, I want that for her too.”

  “That Christophe?”

  I nodded.

  “He was hard on you. I mean, having you on me like that…I would have stopped it, but—”

  “No, there was no stopping it,” I assured him. “He was teaching me.”

  Christophe wanted to show me where I needed improvement, but what I got from the dance was what I’d been missing:
the experience of feeling the touch of a man I was drawn to, the affectionate caresses of intimacy. It was what I longed for.

  I looked over at Tyler and our gazes locked together for a moment before he broke away with a shake of his head and that sexy grin of his. His chest rose and fell, and so did mine. He was sexy, masculine, at ease with himself and me. He was perfect. In fact…an idea popped into my head, one that was crazy as much as it was absurd, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from trying.

  He reached over and slid a few strands of my hair off my face. A tremble went through me and I tilted my head down, trying to get control over my breathing. It was then that the waitress chose to bring the bill to our table.

  “Put your wallet away,” he said with a wink.

  I reluctantly did, but really, I just didn’t want the evening to end and was even more excited about my idea.

  We got in the car and with little traffic, we quickly approached the apartment. My chance to voice my idea was dwindling. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I wasn’t going to allow it to hold me back.

  “Tyler, would you mind pulling over?”

  “You sick?” he asked, quickly switching lanes and getting over to the curb.

  “No…I’m not sick,” I said slowly.

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked, looking at me.

  I took a deep breath and asked, “Will you have sex with me?”

  “WHAT?” IT WAS A GOOD thing Scarlet had told me to pull over or I would have crashed. I turned on the car’s interior lights and shifted to face her. I was sure I hadn’t heard her right; if I had, she’d completely lost her mind.

  “Before you say no, hear me out.” She spoke quickly, her eyes darting everywhere but on me. “I’m not asking you to date me or anything. It’ll be purely…sexual between us.” Her voice dropped an octave.

  “What?” I said again like a stupid parrot. I had nothing.

  “Please stop saying what,” she exclaimed and sighed loudly. “I thought no-strings-attached sex was a guy’s dream—unless you have someone right now?”

  “I don’t.” I shrugged. I had lived that sex dream, and now I was doing the on-again, off-again thing with Eve, though even that wasn’t working out. “I don’t have anyone right now.” I stared at her. “Fuck. What are you doing, going around asking strangers to have sex with you?’