Ripped (11 page)

“And no, I’m not gay.”

Skating had been a blast. Lunch was delicious. Now for the
piece de resistance
—a carriage ride through Central Park at dusk. I’d booked the ride and asked them to spare no expense, with flowers awaiting us in the carriage and a full-length ride to take in all the sights.

As we snuggled, huddled under the blanket, the driver flicked the reins and two majestic black draft horses pulled us into motion. I’d only been to Central Park for the occasional run, which seemed to be the main way that people used the area. There were usually people sitting under shady trees reading or picnicking, but jogging the path was the best way in my opinion to make use of the parkland in the middle of the city. Until now, of course. I ran my hand over the soft leather seat, taking in the gold accents of the carriage that stood out dramatically in contrast to the lacquered black. The horses, too, were dressed in black and gold, with a black and red feather on their headdresses. The driver, a gentleman who looked to be in his fifties with graying hair, was decked out in an old-fashioned top-hat and tails.

“This is beautiful,” Jaz sighed, as she took in the canopy of trees marking our way. The leaves fell softly as a breeze rustled the branches, and she cuddle in closer beside me. “This reminds me of home,” she whispered. “The color in the trees—just the fact that there are trees. I love New York but I miss Boston.” She glanced up at me. “Is that bad? To dream of being here for my entire dancing life and then when I finally get here, I’m homesick?”

Shaking my head, I squeezed her into my side. “Not at all. I was homesick for a long time, but I knew I needed to be here for you. To set us up as best I could.” My jaw clenched. “I wanted to have a home for us, a job, and be ready for you when you moved.”

Her bottom lip dropped as sad eyes pleaded with me. “I’m so sorry, Bax. Please don’t be angry with me. I wanted to come as soon as I’d graduated, I really did. My bags were packed and waiting. I had my ticket booked.” A stray tear rolled down her soft cheek. “I couldn’t leave my dad. I just … we were told he only had a few months and I couldn’t leave.”

This was not how I’d wanted this evening to go—Jaz thinking I was mad at her and in tears over her dad. The driver was trained to be invisible to his passengers and to tune out conversations, but even he had one ear cocked, straining to hear what was happening in the back of his pristine carriage.

“I’m not angry, Jaz,” I said. Her gaze dropped to the floor, and I tilted her head with a finger under her chin so she would look at me. “I’m really not angry, okay?”

She nodded, but her eyes stayed wide and scared.

“I’m upset. Sad that we lost so many years together. Sad that we could have been living together and dancing together and even married by now.”

Her mouth fell open in surprise, making me smile. “Married?”

I nodded. “Yeah, why not? We would have had six years together in New York. I’m guessing we would have been married after six years of living together.”

Tears welled in her vivid green eyes, and I brushed them away from her cheeks with my thumbs.

“Please stop crying, Jaz. What’s done is done. I went through the denial, anger, and acceptance years ago. You being here is like a gift I thought would never happen. I’m grateful that after all this time you’ve finally come and you want to give me a chance.”

Laughter spluttered through her tears. “I’m giving you a chance? I think it’s the other way around.” The heel of her hand swiped the remaining tears from her face. “I’m the lucky one. I’m lucky that in a city the size of New York, in a crowd of people I bumped into you, Baxter Sampson. I’m lucky that after I’d hurt you so badly you instantly forgave me and helped me, and stayed with me through hours and hours of boring auditions.” She giggled. “I know they’re boring to watch, and you’re scoring big brownie points for being there every day.” A warm, soft, pale blue gloved hand cupped my cheek. “I’m lucky that after so long you are still single and still want to be with me.”

“There’s never been anyone else, Jaz.”

Her eyes widened in surprise.

“I mean, no one serious in all the years I’ve been here.”

“Oh, of course. No one serious, but there have been other girls. How could there not be?” A heavy frown furrowed her brow.

“Sure. I mean, we’ve dated, right? It has been eight years all together since I graduated and you”—her head shook—“stayed on to finish your training …” The end of my sentence trailed off as I realized that for me there had been other girls, random girls I’d met, sometimes so drunk it felt wrong to accept their advances. For Jaz it was a different story. There’d been no one else for Jaz—no one but me. Had she felt that we were still together even though we had been apart for so many years? Did that mean in her eyes I’d been cheating on her? A knot formed in my stomach. “I waited the two years for you to graduate, Jaz, and I waited another year after that just to be sure. But after that when I realized that you weren’t coming, I”—I shrugged—“I kinda thought I was on my own, you know?”

“I understand.” A forced smile pulled at her strawberry lips. “I always knew you wouldn’t have waited for me for eight years.” Her pitch rose. “That would be ridiculous!” Her eyes softened. “To be so in love with someone that you would forgo all others even if you thought you may never see them again. To be so in love that the time you’d spent with that person would be enough to keep your heart fulfilled for the rest of your days.”

My eyes misted over with the realization that Jaz had felt that way for me. “I have only ever loved one woman, and that’s you, Jaz. I never wanted to meet anyone else and have a relationship with them. How I felt about you, how I still feel about you—no one could ever take your place in my heart. No one could even come close.”

The sweetest smile lit up Jaz’s face. “I love you, Baxter Sampson. I always have and I always will.”

“And I love you, Jasmine Wilkinson, with all my heart.”

We sat in silence snuggled together, the
clip-clop
of the horse’s hooves and movement of the carriage lulling us into a sense of calm.

Finally, Jaz spoke, her voice gentle and dreamy. “This is nice. I think it’s the first time I’ve felt truly relaxed since I came here.”

I stroked her silken gold hair. “This is our first real date.”

“No, surely we …” She sat up and turned to face me. “I think you’re right. We met while dancing. Got to know each other while rehearsing and grabbing a slice after a long day.” She giggled. “Wow, I’m a cheap lay. A slice of pizza and I’m yours.”

My laughter carried on the night air. “You are anything but cheap, Jaz. We had so much in common from the start that we slotted into each other’s lives without any effort.”

We had somehow fitted in from the very start, as if we had known each other all our lives. That worried me, because we had connected over dance but I wasn’t dancing anymore. So far I’d been attending rehearsals so I could talk to Jaz about her day and the role and the other dancers, but that couldn’t go on indefinitely. If dance was no longer our common ground, we needed to connect on a different level.

The carriage came to a stop, and I looked around to see that we were back at the starting point. I’d wanted to point out interesting sights to Jaz, like the Central Park Zoo and the carousel, but this had been better. In the space of one hour we had talked, cried, cleared the air, and confirmed our love for each other. It was the best hour of my life because from here we were both ready to move forward with absolute certainty that we wanted to be together.

“H
EY
, J
AZ
, a few of us are going out for a drink after rehearsals. Do you wanna come?” Tiffany asked in between gulps from her water bottle.

“Yeah, sure. Sounds great.” I tried to sound casual but I was doing backflips inside. This was the first step toward making friends with the other cast members and making friends in New York. Some of them had worked together on other shows so had been involved in a tight clique from the start. I’d tried in my awkward, dorky way for three weeks to infiltrate the group, but had always received a lukewarm response. So why now?