“That’s right, sweetie. I came.”
“You saved me.”
“I know.”
“What if you hadn’t come?” I whisper. “What if he had hurt me?”
“Baby, we’re not going to think about that.”
“Okay,” I whisper, and I let Elliott hold me a little more. I rest in his arms and he strokes my hair, and then I realize that he called me sweetie and he called me baby and it felt normal and right and not weird at all.
I try to justify it in my head, like maybe he calls all of his friends these names, but that sounds stupid even to me. I know he doesn’t. I know he doesn’t call them all these little pet names.
I know those are just for me.
And then it clicks, and I realize something I had only hoped before. I realize that Elliott has been trying to tell me how he feels, and that he feels exactly the same way I do.
“Elliott?” I ask, looking up at him.
“Sassy?” His voice is a whisper.
“Take me home.”
Elliott doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t ask permission. He doesn’t play the gentleman. He picks me up in his arms and holds me.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “I’ll take you home.”
Then Elliott looks at me. He really, absolutely, completely looks at me. I thought he wasn’t looking at me before, but maybe that’s a good thing. Now I’m wondering why I ever thought his eyes held anything but lust, but passion. Now I’m wondering why I ever doubted the two of us had some sort of chemistry between us. Now I’m wondering why I ever thought we weren’t perfect for each other.
Totally, completely perfect.
He holds me as he locks the front door to the studio, then he carries me to the hallway that leads to the back. He shuts off the front lights, closes the door to the hallway, and locks it.
“You still live upstairs, Sassy?”
“Yeah. I like to be close to work.”
“Don’t I know it.”
He carries me down the hallway, past my office, past the locker room, past the two dance rooms. He carries me past everything until he reaches the stairs.
“You want me to keep carrying you?” He asks. It’s a spiral staircase. There’s not a lot of room for carrying.
“I can walk,” I whisper, and he sets me down. I reach over and flick off the hallway lights. We’re cast into almost complete darkness, aside from the soft glow of light coming from upstairs.
“You be careful going up these stairs.”
“You, too.”
I turn and begin to walk up the stairs. I try not to shake my hips. I try not to worry about how my ass looks or whether I’m moving seductively enough, quickly enough. Elliott has walked behind me many times, but somehow, this is different.
I think we both know it.
I hear him climbing the stairs behind me. The climb has never felt so long or so awkward or so tense, but then we reach the second floor of the building and my wide, open space greets us.
He steps off the top step and smiles. I left the table lamp on, but the other lights are off.
“How can you tell?” I ask. I walk to the wall and flip the switch. Soon the rest of the lights come on. Elliott just nods.