Dance With Me

by Kristen Proby

“I want a copy.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then you’d better do another set of leg presses.”

  “You’re a hard-ass.”

  He laughs and walks to the machine. “You’re the one who wanted to come with me today, sweetheart. Let’s do this.”

  For the love of all that’s holy, I’m so sore.

  It’s been twenty-four hours since we left the gym, and every muscle in my legs and ass is screaming in pain. I can barely walk. I had to climb the stairs to my bedroom about an hour ago, and I thought I was going to die.

  But now, I’m standing in the downstairs bathroom, staring at the toilet. I can’t do this. There is no way in hell I can sit down. My legs are like a baby’s. Weak. Pathetic.

  “This is going to suck,” I groan.

  “Are you okay in there?” Levi starts to open the door, but I lean over and slam it shut.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I heard you moan. Are you sick?”

  I roll my eyes and blow a strand of hair out of my eyes. “No, I’m not sick. I’m sore. And I don’t know how I’m going to sit down to use the bathroom.”

  He chuckles, and I begin to plan his demise.

  He’s a sadist. That’s the only explanation for working me so hard that I can barely move.

  “So glad you find this funny!”

  “Let me in, and I’ll help you sit down.”

  “Not a chance in hell. We have not been seeing each other long enough for you to join me in the bathroom. I can do it. Go away.”

  “I can stay out here in case you need me.”

  “Go away,” I repeat, and then listen for his footsteps leading away from the door. I turn back to the toilet and sigh. “This is going to suck. But I have to pee so bad.”

  So I lift my sundress, pull my panties down, and hold onto the vanity as I lower myself down.

  About halfway, I have to just fall. Let all the muscles go and fall. Because it’s agony otherwise.

  I do my business, and when I’m done, standing up isn’t nearly as bad as lowering down. Thank God.

  Once I’ve washed up, I open the door and shriek at Levi.

  “I told you to leave!”

  “I had to stay in case you fell.” He hooks a piece of hair behind my ear. “You’re so cute when you’re sore.”

  “Eff that.” I push past him to the kitchen. “My ass hurts, Levi. Muscles I didn’t know I had are sore.”

  “Okay, let’s do this.” He lifts me easily and carries me up the stairs, through the bedroom to the bathroom.

  “I don’t have to use the bathroom anymore.”

  Without a word, he fills the tub with hot water, and after he digs around under the sink, he finds some Epsom salts and pours a generous amount into the water.

  He turns to help me take off my clothes, but I shake my head.

  “I can do this.”

  When I’m naked, and the tub is full, Levi helps me down into the water, and I let out a long, grateful sigh.

  “Oh, this feels nice.”

  “Soak for about twenty minutes,” he says. “Do you want some tea?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He nods and hurries out of the room, and I sit back and let the water and salts do their job. I feel better already.

  My live shows are incredibly physical. I fly on wires and do aerial work. I dance my ass off. But none of that has ever made me feel this sore.

  I move my legs up and down, stretching my calves in the hot water. Before long, Levi returns with a steaming mug.

  “How’s it going?”

  “It’s nice,” I admit and take the tea. “My legs feel better already.”

  “Good. We’ll put you in another bath like this before bed. You should be much better by tomorrow.”

  “I hope so. I want to go to the studio tomorrow.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want to go with me to the gym again in the morning?”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Hell, no. No way. You hurt me there.”

  “It’s good for you.”

  “Nope. I’d rather let Jax throw me on my ass.”

  “That doesn’t sound fun to me either.”

  “At least I can sit on the toilet unassisted the next day,” I say with a laugh. “But I will admit, I’m not as in shape as I thought I was.”

  “You’re in excellent shape. It’s a different kind of shape. It’s okay that you’re not a muscle head.”

  “Hey, you didn’t send me our picture.”

  “Oh, right.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen. “Sent.”

  “Can I see it?”

  He turns the screen to me, and I smile. “You’re so handsome. And buff. Look at those arms holding me up.”

  “You’re just with me for my strong arms.”

  “All the better for you to hold me with.”

  “So I should continue working out?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “So noted.” He laughs and stands to leave the bathroom.

  “Wait. How am I going to get out of here?”

  “That sore, huh?”

  “It hurts my pride to admit it, but yes.”

  “Come on.” He holds his hand out for mine, and then pulls me to my feet, his eyes pinned to my body as he watches the water sluice down my torso.

  “Like what you see?”

  Without answering, he lifts me over his shoulder and carries me to the bedroom, not concerned in the least about the trail of water he’s leaving behind us.

  “You’re getting everything wet!”

  “I’m only interested in getting you wet.” He tosses me on the bed and starts stripping out of his own clothes. “Let’s see if we can rub those muscles and make them better.”

  “Wrong muscles, loverboy.”

  “Let’s just try anyway.”

  ~Levi~

  I stretch and reach over to pull Starla into my arms. We start every night tangled together, but ultimately end up rolling away.

  But when I reach over, I’m met with cold bed sheets.

  No Starla.

  I crack an eye and glance around. The room is bathed in grey light, the first signs of morning just starting to peek through.

  She must be downstairs working. Most nights, she sleeps fine through the night, but once in a while, insomnia hits her. When it does, she usually goes to fool around on her piano.

  I pad downstairs, but there’s no sound coming from the living room. No smells from the kitchen.

  “Starla?”

  I prop my hands on my hips and listen.

  Nothing.

  “What the hell?” I hurry back upstairs, my heart starting to pound in my chest with worry. I reach for my phone and dial her number.

  “Good morning,” she says.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m taking a walk by the waterfront. You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “Are you near Lady Liberty?”

  “About a hundred yards, yeah.”

  “Stay where you are.”

  Before she can answer, I hang up and reach for a pair of shorts and a tank, then hurry out of the house, jogging down to the waterfront.

  It’s not far. I glance up and down the sidewalk and see her sitting on a bench not far from the monument.

  She smiles at me as I hurry to her, then frowns when she sees my face.

  “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I woke up, and you were gone.” I pull her in for a hug. “Don’t do that to me. If you want to walk, just wake me up and say so.”

  “You were sleeping,” she reminds me, frowning up at me. She sets off down the sidewalk, and I fall into step beside her. “I am a grown woman, and I’m allowed to walk whenever I want.”

  “You have a stalker.” I take her hand in mine and hold on tight.

  “I haven’t heard a peep out of them in more than a week. It was probably a random weird
o.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Please just humor me and let me walk with you.”

  “Fine.” She sighs as if she’s picking her battles, and we walk in silence for several minutes. “It’s quiet down here this early. I haven’t seen a soul.”

  Something in her voice sounds . . . sad.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Sure. Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know, you just seem lost in thought.”

  “Maybe I am.” She sighs again. “Today’s my mom’s birthday.”

  “Oh? You should call and wish her a happy birthday.”

  She shakes her head, looking out at the first ferry of the morning making its way across the Sound.

  “I wouldn’t even know how to reach her. I don’t have her number.”

  She glances up at me and then back out at the water.

  “I could probably find it if you want.”

  “Nope.” She leads us to a bench and sits, watching the ferry. “I don’t want it.”

  “Why not?”

  She glances at me again, her eyes searching my face.

  “I haven’t spoken to her or anyone else in my family in more than fifteen years. I was never close to my mom, and it’s really okay. There are just moments, like on her birthday, that I wish it were different.”

  “I wish it was different for you, too.” I lean over and kiss her temple. “I don’t know what I’d do without my family.”

  “I have a family,” she insists. “I have Jax and Meredith. And my assistant, Rachel. There are people in my life that I love. Family doesn’t always come from blood.”

  I love you.

  I don’t say the words out loud. Instead, I smile at her.

  “You’re right. I’ve learned that since our family has been absorbed by the Montgomerys. They’re a huge, close family, and not all of them are blood. In fact, I have a feeling Gail Montgomery would yank my ear off if I suggested otherwise.”

  “Oh, she would,” Starla says with a laugh. “Gail is fiercely protective of her family. All of them. So, I have people in my life. I don’t need the ones I was born to.”

  “I can see that.”

  Just then, my phone rings in my pocket.

  “It’s Joy.” I frown as I accept the call. “Hello.”

  “Hey, favorite brother-in-law.”

  “What do you want?” I ask with a chuckle.

  “I need some help at the clinic. You’re handy. Jace is at work. Can you come help me?”

  “Why don’t you call a professional?”

  “Because I have a handy brother-in-law. Please?”

  “Yeah, give me about an hour, and I’ll be there.”

  “Great, thanks.”

  She hangs up, and I look over at Starla. “Joy needs help.”

  “I heard. I guess we should head back to the house.”

  We stand, and I turn to the sidewalk just as Starla jumps onto my back.

  “Carry me!”

  “You said you wanted to take a walk.”

  “My legs still hurt.”

  “That was a week ago, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t care. Just carry me.”

  I laugh, hop a little to get her settled better on my back, and then set off to the house. It’s a good workout for me, and by the time we get there, I’m a sweaty, panting mess.

  “Wow, I wasn’t going to make you carry me the whole way, but you were fast.”

  “Good workout,” I reply as I set her down and take the steps three at a time, reaching the bedroom before her. “I wonder what Joy needs at the clinic?”

  “I guess you’ll see soon enough.”

  “We’ll both see. You’re coming with me.”

  She smiles. “Yay! I love animals. Maybe she has puppies I can kiss on.”

  “You can kiss on me.”

  “You’re not a puppy. Take me to the puppies.”

  “Hi, pretty lady.”

  Starla glances around in surprise as we walk into Joy’s veterinary clinic. There’s no one else in the lobby.

  I know who’s talking; it’s just fun to watch Starla try to figure it out.

  Bill whistles a long catcall, making Starla laugh.

  “What the heck?”

  I point to the African grey parrot sitting on the file cabinet behind the desk.

  “Hi, Bill,” I say.

  “Fuck off,” Bill says but eyes Starla. “Pretty lady.”

  “Well, hello, handsome bird,” Starla croons. “How are you?”

  “Shitty day,” he says and shifts back and forth on his feet. “Shitty day.”

  “Well, hopefully, it’ll get better,” Starla says as Joy comes walking out. “Your parrot is awesome.”

  “Hey, guys. He has a bit of a potty mouth, but he’s a staple here now. Good boy, Bill. Come on back.”

  We follow Joy through the doors to the area of the clinic that most people don’t get to see. Cages of all different sizes line one wall, most containing cats and dogs that Joy and the other vets are treating.

  “I love animals,” Starla says with excitement. “Your job is so cool.”

  “Thank you,” Joy says. “Come on into my office.”

  “What do you need fixed?” I ask her.

  “Oh, nothing.” She reaches into a bed and takes out the kitten she’s been nursing. “You haven’t checked on your kitten in a while. She misses you.”

  “Wait. We’re getting a kitten?”

  Starla dances in place and reaches out for the baby, cradling it against her face.

  I’m stuck on the we. We’re getting a kitten.

  “I told Levi he needs to adopt her,” Joy says. “He needs something to love.”

  “I have plenty of love,” I object, but Starla is already kissing and hugging the little feline.

  “Oh, you’re the most precious cat to ever be born, aren’t you? Baby mine . . .”

  “She’s singing a lullaby,” I inform Joy, who just smirks at me. “You did this on purpose.”

  “She needs a home,” Joy says. “And you’ll give her a good one. She’s the sweetest thing.”

  “Yes, she is,” Starla says, kissing the baby’s cheek, then lets it nuzzle down against her neck. “Look, she’s already attached to me. I’m her mommy.”

  “Christ.” I rub my eyes and then glare at Joy for the ambush.

  “She can’t go home for another four weeks or so,” Joy says as she reaches out to pet the kitten. “She still has some growing to do.”

  “She’s so sweet,” Starla says. “I’ll name her Felicity Mae.”

  “Oh, what a precious name,” Joy says with a grin. “I’ll start calling her that now. Do you want to see some puppies?”

  “YES!”

  “No,” I say at the same time, shaking my head. “Hell, no. She’ll want one of those, too, and that’s a hard no.”

  “Why do you hate fun?” Starla demands, passing the sleeping kitten back to Joy. “I’m not taking one home, I’m just going to enjoy them for a minute. Don’t kill my thunder.”

  “Come on,” Joy says, leading us out of the office and back to the main animal area. She opens a cage, and six lab puppies come lumbering out and straight to Starla, who just sits on the floor and opens her arms wide.

  “Oh my goodness,” she breathes. She pulls two in for kisses, while the others climb over her and nibble on her jeans. “This is what heaven looks like. This is it.”

  “They’re cute,” I concede, but narrow my eyes at Joy. “And I’m not taking any of them.”

  “They’re all spoken for,” she says with a laugh. “But who doesn’t like playing with a whole herd of puppies?”

  “I sure do,” Starla says with a laugh as she tumbles backwards, three puppies all trying to lick her face at the same time. “Oh, Lord, this is the best way to start the day. We should do this every day.”

  “I’ll stick with coffee,” I say, but can’t help but laugh as the puppies continue playing with her. They are funny. “I hate to break up this l
ovefest, but I have to go to work.”

  “Fine.” Starla sits up and sighs, but the puppies attack again, and she falls onto her back in a fit of giggles and sloppy puppy kisses. “Give me a minute.”

  “I have to work tonight,” Starla says with a frown two days later. I just arrived at her house after work and brought Caesar salads with blackened chicken from Salty’s with me for dinner.

  “What kind of work?” I take a bite of my salad and decide it needs more lemon, so I squirt some on top.

  “Fan mail.” She swallows a piece of chicken and takes a drink of water. “I have so much of it piled up, and I’ll have another delivery next week. I need to get caught up.”

  “People still send actual letters?”

  “Some, yeah. Or cards. Gifts. It’s nice of them, and I want to read it myself, so my publicist’s office sends me a weekly box. If there’s not much to send, they’ll wait a week or two.”

  “Interesting. Okay, I’ll help.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “It’ll be fun. Where are they?”

  She shoves a big bite of salad into her mouth and walks to a spare bedroom, coming back with the biggest-sized flat rate mailing box in her arms. She sets it down on the floor between us and then sits in her chair, her feet pulled up under her.

  “That’s them.”

  “Okay, as we read, I suggest we make piles, sorting them out. We’ll do one for things you want to respond to, another for gifts, and a third for miscellaneous.”

  “You’re ridiculously organized,” she says.

  “You’re welcome.” I wink and reach for an envelope. There’s a card inside. “It says Just a note to make your day brighter.” I flip it open and then snap it shut again.

  “What is it?”

  “A dick pic.” I throw the card on the floor outside of the box. “That’s the trash pile.”

  “Okay, that’s funny.”

  “Not funny.” I take a bite of chicken. “Let’s wait to look through the rest until after I’m done eating. Just in case.”

  “Good idea.” She eyes the card on the floor. “Was it at least a good dick pic?”

  “Does that exist?”

  “I mean, if you were to send me one, it would be a good one.”

  “It’s not my dick, and I won’t ever be sending you a photo of it. You can just see it in real life.”