Don't Promise (Don't 3)

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I want to see you dance.”

“You’ve seen me.”

“No, not like that. The way you love dance. I want to see the ballerina Natalia.”

He took my breath away. I had old dance videos and piles of audition DVDs, but that wasn’t what he was talking about.

“You really want to see me dance?”

“Yeah, I bet you’re beautiful out there.”

And I knew he didn’t mean the same way as when I was a Goddess, shaking my ass for everyone to see.

“I’ll dance for you.”

I was already choreographing something in my head to show him.

“I have to go pick up the film for tonight. But I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Good night, Natalia.”

“Good night.”

I hung up and stared at the phone. I had no idea this was going to happen, but I felt as if we had officially waltzed right into a relationship.

21

Sam

The drive to Austin wasn’t bad. It gave me ninety minutes to crank up the music and drive. Texas roads were wide and the speed limit let me go almost as fast as I wanted.

There were a lot of things to think about other than the lyrics blaring from my speakers. Two nights with this woman and I had decided to break my first rule of the season. But it seemed better this way. Since Sunday night, I’d had incredible practices all week. I hadn’t dropped a single ball or missed any tackles. Even Wes commented on my concentration.

With Natalia in my life, I wasn’t as distracted. I wasn’t thinking about where she could be, or what she was doing. All I had to do was pick up the damn phone and call her. It was as if being with her had calmed everything down again. She was some kind of drug for me. I got my focus back. I was the player I was before I met her. Only this time, I had her in my life.

Natalia had texted her address to me. She lived in an apartment not far from where we met over a month ago. I recognized the neighborhood when I pulled into her parking garage.

I knocked on the shabby door and waited for her to answer.

I held up a bouquet of flowers. “These are for you.”

She reached on her tiptoes to kiss me, but stopped and pulled me inside. She took the flowers from me. “Sorry, I don’t want anyone to see you.”

I didn’t care. I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into my arms, crushing her with an earth-shattering kiss.

She trembled and I felt the satisfaction rumble through me. “I like your place.” I looked around. It had the definite markings of a girl. There were pastels and black and white photos of dancers on the wall.

“Thanks, I can give you the quick tour.” She smiled. “This, of course, is the kitchen where I spend almost no time. This is the living room where I spend a little time.” I followed her. “This is the bedroom where I sleep.” Everything was white and clean.

“And what’s this, the guestroom?” I pushed open the door beside her room and stared.

Natalia was behind me. “No, it’s my studio.” She adjusted the dimmer switch and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling illuminated the space.

There was an entire wall of mirrors and a barre that ran the length of one wall.