by Ariana Rose
I wrap up in the robe that was hanging on the back of the door. I don’t want that dress on me until the last minute.
Chapter 23
Spencer
I saw that dress in the window and knew if that’s what she was going to choose I had to pull a shopping spree of my own. After I showered, I put on enough to be presentable to hit the shops. A little Versace for the goose is good for the gander as well.
I popped into the store where her dress beckoned her and her fairy godclerk hooked me up with a black button-down, black pants, and some killer shoes. He tossed in a belt for good measure. I think he was trying to play matchmaker as well. Good luck, buddy. We might be a bit ahead of you.
He let me dress in store and is having my other clothes laundered and sent to our room. Now it’s all about the waiting. I was all right with leaving her to sleep. I wanted some time to clear my head of the cobwebs.
She thinks she’s confused and looking for answers from me. I’m just as confused as she is. Not only is this not the intent of the trip, but I’ve also mixed business and pleasure. Have I stepped on the code of ethics? Without question. How do I feel about it? That remains to be seen.
I’ve found a quiet table along the window wall, overlooking the pool to wait. My whiskey neat is keeping me good company. My mind begins to wonder about what tomorrow will bring. Cierra doesn’t know what I have in store. Depending on how this night unfolds, it will be ten times easier or a voyage straight into the bowels of hell.
I feel like I need a gut check. There’s one person I can think of right now who will give me an honest answer and test my bullshit meter. I free my cell phone from my pocket and unlock it. There is an unread text from last night. It’s from my mom. I don’t have to even look at it and I know exactly what it says. ‘Hi, baby. Thinking of you today. Be kind to yourself.’
I opt to leave it unread for now and scroll down a bit to find my chat with Chance. I’ve messaged him now and again since I hit Sun Valley. He’s been through some shit since we came back from Australia together. I only get bits and pieces. There was a long time I didn’t hear from him. When I found out why, I was shocked and then again not. I know who he is. The rest is what he had to go through.
I know the bastard is happy with his lady. He likes to remind me often. He doesn’t do it to be an asshole. He’s genuinely that happy. I’m happy for him. I guess we’ve now swapped roles in some ways. I need a brother’s help to sort this one out.
Spencer: Hiya, Junior.
Chance: Ya bastard. Fuck off with that.
Spencer: LOL! Did I interrupt anything?
Chance: Not quite yet. How’s the ice queen?
Spencer: Thawing. I’m thinking about doing something stupid.
Chance: Does it involve her?
Spencer: What do you think?
Chance: I’m going to tell you what I’ve always told you. You know what you want. Get off your ass and take it.
Spencer: This could change everything.
Chance: Wouldn’t that be balls! Quit being such a fuckwit and have the guts to let things just be. You’ll be right.
My phone buzzes and it’s Cierra. Two words. I’m ready.
Spencer: What happens in Vegas…
Chance: Bring her here either way and Aubrey and I can sort you. Now piss off
I tuck my phone away without a final response. Often times with him, none is needed. I walk with my drink until outside the elevator bay and swap it with a hostess for a rose she has lying on her tray. I don’t know where it came from or why the single pink rose was there, but I take it as a sign and my way to greet Cierra.
I stand outside room 17028 and give myself a minute to put today in perspective. This is what we agreed on. This is an escape day. I am escaping what could have been. Cierra is continuing to escape an existence she isn’t sure she wants. That’s what this is about.
Lifting my hand, I knock gently on the door with my knuckle and wait. I can hear Cierra on the other side. There is a shuffle and a muffled click click before she opens the door. I hold it open with my left hand as I’d done before. This time I am the one lost for words.
I can’t even take her all in at once. I need to do it in parts. Her hair has been flat-ironed sleek and straight. It falls to just below her shoulders. It’s tucked behind her right ear and her long gold earrings shimmer above her shoulders.
I’ve never seen her wear much makeup. Honestly, she doesn’t need it. Tonight, she’s enhanced everything I’d ever noticed about her. Her beautiful eyes are perfectly painted in a smoky haze that matches her dress. She has eyelashes for days. Her lips are a pale pink and shine. All I can think about in this moment is kissing them.
“Spencer?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re not saying anything. That’s never good.”
“What? No. It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re more than fine.”
That’s when I notice where her eyes are. They no longer hit my chest. They are in line with my chin. I follow the curve of her body to the floor. There waits a pair of patent leather too-high heels with a cutout in the front so I can see her manicured toes.
“Jesus, Cierra.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
“It is. Trust me, it is.”
~~~
We aren’t alone on the elevator ride down. In fact, it feels like we stop on every damn floor. The only good thing is it gives me more time to study her. This dress could be illegal in several states. I don’t want to appear I’m gawking but I sure as hell am.
In the films of her skating, her outfits were always very pale. This dark color really made her shine in every way. Her eyes shine brighter; her skin is vibrant. She seems more spirited, more confident. Whether that’s an act or not I’d have to ask but she is, for lack of more articulate words, fucking hot.
My instinct is to touch her back, but the way I’m feeling it would lead to all sorts of bad things that I can’t acknowledge yet. After the second or third time the elevator picks up a person or two, I reach down for her hand. She takes the offer and gives it a soft squeeze in return.
I lean into her ear and whisper, “If I haven’t said it, you look beautiful.”
She simply smiles and I think I even catch a hint of blushing. Once we finally hit the lobby, the doors open, and the car begins to empty. We’re the last ones off. As we cross the threshold onto the marble walkway, she stumbles a bit as her ankle turns.
I wrap my arm at her waist to hold her steady. “Whoa. Is it your knee?”
“No,” she sighs, “I’m not used to these things anymore. Dammit.”
“We can take it as slow as you want until you’re comfortable. There’s a saying here. ‘Time doesn’t exist.’ We’ve got nothing but time.”
Her posture straightens; she rolls her shoulders back and settles her hair back behind her right ear. Her hand also slides back in mine. We stand there for a moment, staring at each other, as the world goes on around us. I catch people in my periphery watching us. I know they’re watching her.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
“Surprisingly, yes I am.”
“How does Lago grab you? It’s Italian based. I’ve eaten there before and it’s pretty awesome.”
“Will we make the show?”
“Yes, I promise we will.”
“Then I’ll do what I don’t do best, let you lead.”
She’s fought me every step of the way so far in her rehab and recovery. She fights me on things that don’t even need fighting about. She’s starting to trust me in very personal ways. My head starts to churn, and I hear Chance over and over in my head ‘Quit being such a fuckwit and have the guts to let things just be. You’ll be right.’ He’s right. Get out of your head, asshole, and have a good time. No thinking. No expectations.
~~~
The Cirque show was incredible. Truly incredible. Water. Of course, it was all about water. The music was wholly haunting and impactful. The dancers and acrobats wer
e being vaulted and tossed about at any and all angles. They were flying through the air, spinning and gliding.
Every so often I’d turn and catch a glimpse of Cierra. She studied every move they were making. She’d often have this goofy kid-like look to her face. It was almost as if she wanted to join in. She’d gasp and lean in then she’d sit back and hold herself across her arms. Her eyes would glow a bit in the lights and I would see them sparkle. More than anything, what struck me was that she never stopped smiling.
She doesn’t want to leave right away. I think she wants time to process what we just witnessed. Once the auditorium is mostly clear, she turns to me. “Thank you, Spencer. That was…thank you.”
“The look on your face, Cierra, is thanks enough. You seem truly happy in this moment.”
She doesn’t say anything right away. When she does, she surprises me. “I feel like me and don’t feel like me at the same time. I asked you for what would make me happy and you simply said okay. You didn’t make me tell you why. You didn’t try to talk me out of anything because it didn’t make sense to you. You just said okay. I can’t tell you what that feels like.”
“I only listened to what you were saying and what you weren’t saying. You’re not very complicated if you allow yourself to be. Either way, I like who you are.”
What I say seems very simple to me. I think for her it is way more than that. She rises from her seat. I follow her eyes the entire time. She reaches down for my hand and silently invites me to stand with her. I’m still not used to her new height in her heels. Her eyes reach inside me as we stare silently for a few seconds.
Cierra rests her left hand on my cheek then slowly presses up for a kiss. She leaves a lingering imprint on my right cheek. My hands cup her elbows to help hold her in place. She breaks our connection and settles back onto her feet. “Mari was a lucky woman. If this is how you made her feel every day, she’s an idiot for not either waiting for you or following you to any corner of the world.”
I rest my forehead on hers. I feel her words like an arrow. The look in her eyes before is what I feel now. There is a part of me that never healed after I left Mari. I felt like it was all my fault and I gave her no options. She had them. We could have made it work; we chose not to.
For years, I’ve blamed me and only me for the separation and all the heartbreak we both ended with. My beautiful mother said time would heal not only my body but also my heart. Yet again and always, she’s right. Cierra Avila gave me my stitches and a Band-Aid. What I do with it now is up to me.
“Are you tired, Cierra?”
“Not even a little,” she sighs.
“There’s a club across the street, hidden under the Eiffel Tower. Feel like dancing?”
“I’m not in any pain. Let’s do this. I’m not ready for the night to be over. ‘Time doesn’t exist.”
Chapter 24
Spencer
I was thinking how we got here. She asked me to show her what it would have been like. I’ve shown her. I’ve spent the day watching everything through her eyes. Since we let go, it’s been raw, honest, and I can feel so many of the bad things evaporating.
The Chateau is perfect, as usual. The vibe in here is surreal. Most of the place is outside. There is a small dance floor on the rooftop, secluded away from the thump of everything going on inside. We can clearly see the fountains of the Bellagio from where we found a private booth.
I’m sipping on my beer in our oversized seclusion, waiting for Cierra to return. That dress she chose is enough to bring any man to his knees. I can close my eyes and treat myself to a repeat of her walking away from me. It shines like a puddle of water beneath a streetlight. It has lights and darks in a color that’s somewhere between purple and blue. It hugs the gentle curves of her body and is nearly too short. Nearly is perfect for me.
She said it was longer than quite a few of the skating dresses she had. Christ. I’d never paid attention to that part in the videos I’d watched in trying to get to know her body before we worked together. I was only looking at it from a mechanics standpoint. I wasn’t looking at it like she was a woman. She definitely is one and a beautiful one at that.
The music is starting to fade from the hard beats of techno to something smoother. Usher bleeds into Ne-Yo before I see her returning from across the dance floor. The ladies’ room is at the very opposite side from where we are seated. I get the pleasure of her walking in those heels once more. Her confidence in them and herself has grown exponentially tonight.
She weaves so gracefully through the start of the crowd. The extra three inches they give her make her legs even longer than they are. She usually hits me mid-chest, right around my heart. Now she has elevated to in my heart. How will this go?
As many thoughts fill my mind, she stops as the music changes. Haunting strums of electric guitars fill the club. It’s a song everyone knows, and no one could ever forget. Prince was an icon. “Purple Rain.” Just like her dress.
I’m not a dancer by any stretch of the imagination but this song, Cierra looking like that, is pushing me in a direction I’m not sure about but need to take full advantage of.
Our eyes lock by the second count of eight. I take one last sip of my beer before I rise from the bench. As I rise, it feels like the crowd parts with a direct path of light between us. We draw closer and closer until we meet in the middle, inches apart from each other.
The rolling lights from overhead cast intermittent glows on her. The first pass, I can see the rise and fall of her chest. It’s faster than normal. The second pass, her hands release their tension to land delicately at her sides. She looks like a sexy ballerina waiting in pose. The third pass, the light catches her eyes. The dark pools dive into not only my eyes but also something much deeper. I’ve given her my time, my care, a bit of wisdom, if you can call it that, and now she is getting a part of my heart.
I hold out my hand slowly, inviting her in. She lets it linger in the air for a minute. I’m never quite sure what she’s thinking unless she gets brave and says it. I’m certain that’s part of what is drawing me closer. It’s another count of four before she lays her hand gently in mine. Thank fuck this song is long.
Her right hand is in my left. I watch her weave her fingers with mine. I extend my right arm around her waist and pull her even closer. She can rest her head on my shoulder. If I had my way, she’d wear these shoes all the time.
She has the sweet smell of flowers and citrus again. I was so busy admiring every other attribute; it was the one thing that didn’t register until now. It’s even more intense than last night. I don’t know if everything is heightened or if I’m completely under her power and happy to be there. If I’m being honest with myself, it’s both.
My hand feels rough against the soft skin near the too low back of this dress. Her skin is the softest thing I’ve touched in forever. She brings our woven fingers between her body and mine. They come to rest over my heart. She’s going to know in an instant what this is doing to me. My heart is racing like it does after an opening shift in the first period.
Cierra tilts her head back as she slides her left hand up my arm then shoulder and comes to a stop on the back of my neck. I’ve heard the lyrics to this song a thousand times or more. I guess I never really processed them until today.
It’s all about apologies. Not causing sadness or pain. Only wanting to see someone as their best self. It’s begging to the one person you care about most to guide them into their inevitable change. I’ve wanted that for Cierra since before I met her. That’s why this is my career path now.
But the double meaning is echoing even louder. I want her to have choices and make them on her own. I want her to take her dream, as it began, and see it through. If she’s going to do it, it’s going to be done differently. Don’t be afraid and embrace it.
Then we have me. She said if she’d been the one asked to choose, she would have followed me anywhere. She is saying, without saying, she would have not wanted the sadn
ess and the pain for me either. Isn’t that what every person wants for their life? I’m not the only one trying to give it. She’s trying to as well.
Her fingers flex over my neck. Each small movement is a shock wave through my entire body. I can feel it wash to the floor and back again. I may have thought I wanted her before, but now I know for sure. I guide our hands to her chin and use our index fingers to tilt it up.
With the music so loud, she won’t be able to hear me if I speak to ask. As it turns out, I don’t need to. She glides her tongue delicately over her lips to wet them. Jesus.
I angle my head and reach in to touch them. When our lips meet, the world falls silent. I can only hear her. There is a deep inhale that seems to come from her toes. She drops my hand slowly to wrap her arms around my neck. My newly free hand cups the back of her neck as the other, that still rests dangerously close to somewhere it shouldn’t, now presses her body tight to mine.
She may have been the first to say she wanted to do this for a long time, but I’m sure as hell going to make up for lost time. The citrus of her wine mixes with the citrus of her body spray, creating this mind-blowing, unavoidable explosion of desire from me.
Chapter 25
Cierra
I know I don’t have a ton to compare it to, but this is without a doubt the best kiss of my life. I knew it was coming. I could feel it before I left. I wonder if that’s weird. I could feel this sensation in my body. I knew what it was, but I never felt it that strong before.
What I felt before was not intense. This is turning into a standing too close to the fire, in the bright sun on the equator, in the middle of summer intense. I was so excited I was nervous. I don’t get nervous. I didn’t get the name Ice Queen from the number of medals or competitions I’ve won for nothing.
