Tan
When I took this choreography gig, I told myself I could work with Dominick, but last night's fight proved otherwise. I wasn't able to be cool around him. I had too many unexpressed feelings bubbling over the surface, and I had to find a way to deal with them before I exploded again.
"I don't hate you. Not at all. Get that shit out of your head."
What did that mean? If he didn't hate me, then why was he acting this way?
My phone rang, and when I saw it was my mom, I very guiltily sent it to voicemail. I didn't want to answer eight hundred questions about how speech lessons with Krish were going and why I hadn't RSVP'ed to my cousin's engagement party. My mom thought these daily check-ins were helpful, but honestly, they were just anxiety inducing.
I sent her a quick text telling her I'd call her tomorrow right before I walked into rehearsal. When I pushed the door open, expecting to see Dominick sitting in the same folding chair he always sat in, I found it empty.
Emotions tumbled around inside me. Was I mad he wasn't here? Was I hurt that he hadn't come back?
The sound of water stole my attention from Dominick's empty chair, and I was shocked to find him pouring a bucket of water into a replica of the shallow pool installed at Blanche's. Fully equipped with mirror edges and a slick bottom for sliding.
This was a major upgrade from my inflatable kiddie pool and exactly what I needed to rehearse in.
Our eyes met across the room, and my breath caught in my throat like it always did. The intensity of his gaze pinned me in place. I'd been without his attention for so long that that I almost forgot what it was like to be on the receiving end.
The fine hairs on the back of my neck and arms stood on end as goosebumps formed on every inch of exposed skin.
He wasn't smiling, but he looked different today, and I thought it must be his clothes. Instead of a button-down shirt and dress pants, he wore a simple white t-shirt that showed off his rose vine tattoos and a pair of black joggers.
Without breaking eye contact, he tossed the bucket aside and set it tumbling across the wood floor—the sound echoed through the room until the bucket smacked against the wall.
The clattering noise went straight through me.
"What are you doing?" I asked, breathless. My heart beating like I'd just finished a challenging pas de deux.
A half smile formed on his face. "Waiting for you."
His deep voice and half grin turned my legs turned to jelly, and I had to give myself a mental shake.
Maybe the reason why he didn't smile very often was because it was too magnetic. Too warm. It drew too much attention to him. But sweet hell, his smile was beautiful, and it lighted the rest of his face, transforming him into a different person.
As much as I wanted to get swept away in this real-life fantasy where Dominick stopped acting like an asshole and started paying attention to me, he wasn't getting a free pass. I was past needing him to see me as more than twinkle toes, the tutu wearing demon. This one gesture didn't erase the way he acted toward me for the past two weeks and I was done chasing after him.
I crossed my arms. "You never join rehearsal. You sit in that chair like an angry block of ice."
The grin he was wearing widened as he stepped around the pool, slowly making his way to where I stood. His long strides deliberate.
"I'm not going to do that anymore," Dominick said. His voice was a rasp that scraped across my skin.
The closer he came, the closer I wanted him to be, but I had to stand my ground.
"Where's everyone else?" I asked, but the question came out breathy as I tilted my chin up to meet his eyes. He was standing so close I could smell the hints of bergamot and clove in his cologne. The familiar scents curled around me, painful reminders of our life changing night together. "I didn't get any texts saying they were running late."
Slowly, Dominick dragged his teeth over his lower lip. As if I needed another reason to stare at his mouth. "I told them rehearsal was canceled."
The haze his presence and attention and fucking delicious scent had put me in cleared.
"You–what?" I asked, crinkling my brows together. "Why would you do that?"
This man was so confusing. First he didn't care, now, all of a sudden, he was canceling rehearsals.
Dominick leaned in an inch and his minty breath fanned over my face. "You're not doing that dance with an idiot who calls himself The Melon Felon. Not in my club. I won't allow it."
Oh really? My hand landed on my hip. "First of all, Lucas hasn't decided on a stage name. And second, your grandma gave me complete creative control over the routines." I pointed at my chest. "I'm dancing with Lucas, whether he calls himself The Melon Felon or not."
Slowly, he shook his head from side to side. Eyes narrowed. "No, you're not."
Indignation rose inside me. Whenever someone told me I couldn't do something, I immediately wanted to do it. It was the reason why I was still dancing after all these years. It's the reason why I double majored in dance and biology. It's the reason why I didn't go to med school or marry a nice South Asian boy and move to Jersey.
"Yes, I am. It's not my fault you've refused to involve yourself."
Dominick closed his eyes and took a breath in through his nose, blowing it out slowly, before opening his eyes again.
"I'm here now. Involving myself."
He couldn't just show up with an actual pool, wearing a tight white t-shirt, and all of a sudden everything was better between us. I'd been here, doing the hard work. Night after night. I tried to get him to talk to me yesterday and he just walked away. "Yes, here you are. Canceling rehearsal and being wholly unhelpful."
I studied his reaction, wondering if he was going through an ounce of the agony I was going through. Having him this close and wanting nothing more than to kiss him until my mind went blank, but feeling so confused.
Slowly, haltingly, Dominick cupped my face in his big palms. Holding me so gently. I saw the sadness and regret in his bright green eyes. Hiding behind his tough exterior.
"Tanushree, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry. I was wrong." I opened my mouth to respond, but Dominick shook his head. "I want to make this clear, because I don't want to hurt your feelings. I'm not going to be mean just to push you away anymore. And I know I'm being a bastard about this, but I don't care. I don't want you dancing with Lucas." He stroked his thumb over my cheek. "Teach me the dance."
Something shifted between us. I saw it in his eyes and I felt it in every cell of my body. The heat radiating off of him collided with the heat radiating off me. We were finally being honest with each other instead of avoiding what we really wanted to say.
I didn't want to do the dance with Lucas either. I'd been fantasizing about dancing with him. Just him.
Dominick pulled my face closer to his, and a smile kicking up one side of his mouth. "Teach me the dance. Please, Tanushree."
The way this man said my full name was like a finger dragging down the furrow of my spine, catching in the strap of my thong. But I had to keep my wits about me and not succumb to his sexual quicksand. He got as close as he could then pushed me away before.
Besides, men didn't like the real me. He was chasing something else. Sex or control of the routine. Not my heart. Right?
"You're really going to dance?" I asked, trying to speak around the hormones bursting inside me.
His teeth caught on his lower lip again, and I sucked in a sharp breath. "No, twinkle toes. I'm not just going to dance. I'm going to dance with you. If you'll have me."
I did want him, but I needed to know what caused his change in behavior. He'd been pushing me away for weeks.
It was hard to think logically when he was still holding my face between his palms. I covered his hands with mine and dragged them down my face, putting distance between us.
"Why now?"
The hint of humor and happiness on his face retreated back into the cold, sharp lines of his face. "If I have to watch that pretty boy put his hands all over you again, I might lose my damn mind. Or end up in prison. The only thing I can think when I see you two together is that he's too damn short, and he's going to drop you."
I cocked a brow. "So this is purely about my safety. Is that it?"
"No. Yes." Dominick blew out a frustrated breath and shook his head. "I mean, I figured it out. What you told me to figure out yesterday."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah, I did. And the truth is that I want to do more than dance with you." A sheepish smile flashed across his face for a second, and I couldn't believe how much smiling this man was doing tonight. His words seemed even more unbelievable.
"I like being around you," Dominick said, making fist. "And fuck, Tanushree, I can't stop thinking about you. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the day we met."
He hadn't been able to stop thinking about me? The ice wall I'd put up around my heart melted a little. But, if that was true, it still didn't answer my original question of what changed for him.
Why now?
Was he horny? Did he realize I was going to be the choreographer no matter how hard he pouted and wanted in? Or was it more?
"If you felt this way, why did you leave yesterday?"
He raked a hand through his soft blond hair, and I watched the pieces fall around his dark rimmed glasses. "I'm sorry. That was wrong. I was being a coward. But I don't want to be a coward anymore."
I wondered if this man had ever called himself a coward, or if he'd ever been this vulnerable with anyone before. He tried as hard as he could to show everyone around him that he was confident and in control. As much as I appreciated him showing his vulnerable side, I knew there was more underneath. And I wanted to know what was there.
"It's more than that. Isn't it?" I asked, setting a hand on the swell of his chest. His breath hitched at the contact, just like mine did. I let my nails rake across his t-shirt until my palm was covering his heart. His gaze followed the movement. "Something else has been holding you back."
His hand covered mine over his heart, flattening my palm so I could feel his rapid heartbeat.
"You're good at this," he said slowly. Voice low and tentative.
"Good at what?"
His deep chuckle vibrated against my palm. "Getting me to talk."
My fingers curled into his t-shirt, and his free hand floated to my waist, pulling me closer. Closer.
"I like talking to you," I reassured him. "So keep going," I said, tilting my chin to look him in the eyes. "Tell me why this has been so hard for you."
Dominick hesitated, and I wondered if he was going to say what he was struggling to say. The muscles in his chest flexed like a shield he was used to erecting between other people. I melted my hips against him, and his body relaxed. A pent up breath left his mouth.
We hadn't been this close since that night I came undone for him. Now, I wanted him to come undone for me. To prove this wasn't just about sex or his ego. This was real.
"I don't like change," Dominick said, a deep groove forming between his brows. "Blanche's is more than a club to me. It's my home. It's where I feel safe." He paused, and I realized I was holding my own breath. Waiting for every word like they would heal me as much as they could heal him. "My grandma, well, let's just say she pulled me out of a bad situation when I was young and raised me right there at the club."
He bit his lip and shook his head. Then his eyes found mine again. "At first, I thought you and your friends were coming to turn the club into the Oiled Olive. And I don't want that." His jaw clenched and unclenched. "I was afraid that if anything changed, it wouldn't be the same place."
It was so much deeper than ego, I realized. This club was more than just a strip bar to him. It was his home. I never stopped to think about it like that, and I understood Dominick a little bit better.
There was pain in his past.
"I'm sorry I made you feel like I was going to change everything you love about Blanche's."
I watched Dominick's hard, icy exterior melt, right before my eyes. His hold on my waist tightened, pressing our bodies more firmly together.
"You don't have anything to be sorry for. It's hard for me to trust people and deal with change." He forced a half-smile. "But that's a me thing, not a you thing. You're fucking perfect."
Now it was my turn to laugh. This beautifully complicated man who was so strong thought I was perfect? What a joke. "I'm far from perfect."
"Stop saying things like that," Dominick told me. No trace of humor in his tone. "Do you hear me? You are perfect."
God I wanted to believe him.
We were so close. My lips were parted and soft, waiting, just like his, but I knew this couldn't go any further. I was used to being physically close to other people, and so was he. As much as I wanted him to kiss me, hell, as much as I wanted him to fuck me against that mirror, we still had a lot of work to do, and kissing Dominick would only complicate things.
I wasn't perfect, and when he got to know me, he'd see that, and things would change. Besides, we'd agreed our one night stand was one night only. Having him back, starring in the show he was always meant to star in, had to be enough.
"Well, Romeo," I said, finding the strength to untangle myself from Dominick's arms, and immediately missing his warmth, "if you want to learn the dance, you better get in the pool."
What looked like disappointment flittered across his face, before he did as I asked. Backing away step by step until he was at the edge. Just before he stepped into the shallow water, he beckoned me forward with a finger.
"You comin'?"