“No, it’s not easy. It’s hard, very hard. Something to strive for. Something to expire to.”
“I think you mean ‘aspire,’” I said, although expire was probably more accurate.
“Whatever.” He stood behind me, frowning at me in the mirror. “You disappoint me, Ash-lee. This is a chance for you to do something amazing. Something to make everybody say ‘oh look, there she is. Look at her. Where she been hiding?’”
I spun on him, shaking my head. “I don’t want that. That’s the last thing in the world I want.”
He looked like he would have happily kicked me square in the stomach. “Whut? Why you dance then? Why you practice your technique, why you spend hours at the barre if you don’t want to be looked at?”
“I don’t know. Because I have to. Because I don’t know what else to do.”
He rolled his eyes and flipped backward into a handstand. “You stupid, stupid girl.” He flipped back to his feet, then over again onto his hands. “Liam would want you to do it. He won’t believe it when I tell him you refused.”
“Don’t tell him.” I didn’t want Liam to know I was still cowardly chickenshit. “It’s none of his business anyway.”
“I’m telling him.” He took to his feet and crossed for his phone. “I’m texting him right now.” He turned around and snapped a photo. “I’m going to attach a picture of you. Total loser.”
“Just—” I let out my breath in a miserable huff. “Don’t text him, okay? Give me some time to think about it.”
“Time?” His face contorted in disgust. “You don’t need time. Fernando Rubio asks you to dance in the spring showcase. On worldwide summer tour. There is one answer, and you give it immediately. Yes, yes, yes!”
“Okay, yes,” I yelled. “Fine. I’ll do it.” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. “Just don’t tell Liam I didn’t want to.”
“Why?” His angry face transformed to a lurid smirk. “He would spank you, huh? Whip your ballerina bottom?”
No. He would know that I’m a hopeless case after all. When I didn’t answer he took that as confirmation and got a completely filthy look on his face. “What would he do to you for punishment? Tell me. Something awful? Degrading?”
“No.”
“I already told him we practiced this together. He’ll be glad you got this role.” He grinned at me. “Rubio and Ash-lee, partners. I want to rub my cock on you again.”
I sidestepped his approach. “No, thank you.”
“When are you coming to play downstairs at Liam’s with all us other pervs? I’d like to play with you.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That is not likely to happen. But I’ll let you know.”
“Not likely, why?” He was looking at me too closely now. “What happened? Liam hurt you? Scare you out of the lifestyle? I told you. Didn’t I warn you?”
“Jesus, Ruby.” I looked away from him but he yanked my chin back over again.
“What he do to you?”
“Nothing! We just— Our thing didn’t work out. You understand that, right? When people don’t click together? I don’t think I’m really good at…” I waved a hand. “You know, all that stuff you guys do.”
“Aw, girl.” He stroked my face, and I had a sense that he could be a dangerously seductive lover. “Maybe you just need a different person to top you.”
I laughed so I wouldn’t start crying. “Let me guess. You?”
“Why you laugh? I’m good at it.”
“I’m sure you are,” I said, pushing his hand away from my face.
“What? You’re not attracted to me? You think I don’t make good sex?”
“Oh, I’m sure you make good sex. I just don’t… I don’t even think of you in that way.” This seemed to befuddle him. “I’m not available,” I finally said. “It’s a long story and it will bore you to hear it.”
“You still like Liam.”
I sighed. “I said it was a long story, so no. It’s not as simple as that.”
“I’m looking right at you and I see you still like him and you’re sad.”
Rubio had a way of laying it on the line that I really hated. “Can we get on with it?” I said, gesturing to the floor.
“Sex, you and me?”
“No!”
“Oh, practice. But listen, Ash-lee. If you still like him, go see him. You talk. In lifestyle things, there has to be adjustment sometimes. Cooling off period and then you move on and things are better because you have…” He stared at the ceiling, trying to think of the word. “Grown a little. People grow together. It takes time. You and me, we are friends now, and remember? You used to hate me.”
“No, you used to hate me,” I reminded him. “And you’re not really my friend.”
“Whut?” He clutched his heart. “How can you say that? I am your friend. We’re doing this ballet together, no? A partnership. But I get top billing,” he added with a wink.
“What’s it even called, this ballet?”
He shrugged. “I don’t have a name yet. It will come to me. Things take time.” He wagged a finger at me, my mercurial Brazilian idol. “You’re so impatient, Ash-lee. Too impatient. Don’t you realize this?”
I hated that he was right. Yes, I was too impatient, especially when it came to fixing my broken sexuality. I looked at him and sighed.
*** *** ***
The following Monday, at noon, I climbed the steps to Liam’s house. The more I thought about Ruby’s words, the guiltier I felt. I’d been impatient and rude to Liam, who was only trying to help me. I’d expected miracles and gotten angry when he couldn’t provide them. I’d expected him to do things to me that he wasn’t comfortable with. More than anyone on earth, I should have known how wrong that was.
When I rang the doorbell, Liam opened the door instead of Mem. I hadn’t expected that. I’d thought Mem would ease me inside and help bolster my courage before I had to face him. Liam didn’t ask me in but he didn’t shut the door on me either, only stood there wearing an expression I couldn’t parse. It was a cold day and he had on a chunky fisherman’s sweater I wanted to cuddle up against. I was in a blouse, cardigan, and miniskirt, shivering down to my boots. I pulled my coat closer around me.
“I’m sorry,” I said when he made no move to invite me in. “I came to tell you I’m sorry. I got scared and…and impatient. I was trying to give orders. Trying to top you, when you’re supposed to be the one in charge.”
He blinked, his lips tightening a little. “I accept your apology.”
The winter sun was blinding. “Can I come in?”
He looked at his watch, then back at me. “It’s noon on Monday. Are you here because you want to start up again?”
I didn’t have an answer for that, because I wasn’t sure what I wanted. He said something rude under his breath and pulled me inside. Mem drifted by to take my coat but Liam didn’t offer me a seat. I picked at the trim on my cardigan while we stood in his foyer looking at each other.
“If you want to start up again…you and me and your sex thing,” he said, “I’d advise you to think about it, honestly.”
I hated the way he called it my “sex thing.” I hated the way this moment felt. “I have been thinking about it,” I said. “I— I don’t know what to think, or how to make up for what I did, but I want to make up for it.” I stared at the patterns in his marble tile.
“Maybe you could punish me.”
“For what? For exercising your right not to consent? That would be pretty stupid, considering that was the whole point of the session.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. “Although I’d enjoy tearing up your ass. I’m not going to deny it.”
It was difficult for me, being so emotionally raw and open, but I let him see everything, all the angst in my heart. “I’m sorry, Liam. I know you were trying so hard, doing everything so carefully. All you wanted was to help me. Even when I was yelling at you, I realized that, but I couldn’t stop my mouth.”
“You freaked out, like you always do when you’re confronted with sex. I understood all of that. I’m not angry because you left, Ashleigh. I’m angry because you didn’t come back. If you’re not going to do the work— If you’re just going to leave me hanging—”
Mem rattled some plates in the kitchen. Liam turned to him with a violent look. “This is a private conversation.”
“I am not listening, Ishi. Just hoping to see some harmony. Will you not invite her to sit? It is very bad luck to argue in front of a door.”
Liam inclined his head to me, his gestures stiff with annoyance. “Would you like to sit down?”
“If you want me to go—”
“If I wanted you to go, I would ask you to go. Please, come and sit down with me.”
His words were polite, but his voice was strained. I sat on the couch closest to the door and he sat beside me. Mem appeared a second later. “Can I get either of you—”
“Mem. Enough.”
The old man nodded and went upstairs. Liam turned to me with that same blank, equivocal look he’d worn at the door. “Here’s the thing. I didn’t realize when we started how emotionally invested I would get in your situation. How invested I would get in you. So when you left, and you didn’t call, and you didn’t come by, I felt torn up about it—and I don’t need the drama. I’m not sure I want to be around you anymore.”
Wow. Harsh. I looked down at my hands in my lap. “Why didn’t you call if you wanted me to come back? Why didn’t you—”
“Make you come back? Here we go again. I can’t make you do anything. I don’t want to do the same things he did to you. I don’t feel like I can trust you and I’m not sure I can fix you. I’m wondering if all of this was a mistake.”