Ripped (7 page)

I took his hand as we made our way to the door. “Well, when I find somewhere of my own to live, I won’t have to go home at all.” Heat flushed my cheeks as I realized what I’d just said.

“I guess I can wait for that to happen.” Baxter stopped in front of me as we reached the bottom of the narrow staircase. He tilted my head with his finger under my chin. “Just seeing you again, Jaz, after so long …” His fingers brushed against my cheek. “It feels like a lifetime ago, and yet it’s like it was only yesterday when we were together and happy.” His thumb ran along my bottom lip. “We were happy, weren’t we?”

I nodded. “I’ve never been happier.” I kissed his thumb as it made a second pass along my lip. “Being with you. Dancing with you. It was the happiest time of my life.”

“Mine too.” He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine. “I feel like we’ve been given a second chance. In a city the size of New York, what are the chances of two people bumping into each other?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe it is fate.”

We walked the nine blocks to my little duplex in silence, both of us huddled close against the cold, lost in thought, yet totally comfortable in each other’s company. The porch was in darkness as we ascended the five steps from the street, and I welcomed the fact that Baxter couldn’t see that once again my cheeks had turned crimson as he drew me into his arms.

His hands ran up my sides slowly, taking in the curves of my body, until they made their way into my hair. Slowly, he leaned in until our lips were a hair’s breadth apart and then he stopped. “Do you think we can pick up where we left off, Jaz?”

My breath caught in my throat.

“Can we pretend the last six years never happened and you’ve come to meet me in New York like you promised?”

“Yes,” I replied breathlessly.

As soft, full lips came down onto mine, I ran my hands up Baxter’s back to his shoulders, feeling the muscle definition beneath his shirt. He was built. No longer the lean dancer of eight years ago, he had bulked up, his shoulders huge, his arms bulging and pulling the fabric of his long-sleeved tee tight. But they were the same lips that I remembered, that I’d dreamed about as sleep consumed me, and as his tongue slowly danced with mine, one thing was certain, I had my Baxter back.

Even with my eyes closed, I knew the porch light had been flicked on.

“Is that you, Jasmine, dear?” a voice that had been weakened by age called out.

Quickly stepping back from Bax, I took a few seconds before responding. “Yes, Mrs. Bailey, it’s me.” My eyes shot up to take in Baxter biting his lip to control his laughter. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Or two,” Bax whispered, before pulling me back in for another kiss.

I’
D GONE
to sleep with the strawberry taste and warm tingling feel of Jaz on my lips, certainly not what I’d anticipated when I’d started my day. I’d been running to meet Lucia for coffee so we could discuss her parents’ surprise wedding anniversary party, when Jaz had completely blindsided me.

I was still on cloud nine the following morning as I sprung out of bed. I hadn’t arranged to accompany Jaz to call-backs, so I wanted to get to her duplex early in the hope that she hadn’t left already. Digging out my best sweater, the one that hugged my body to show the definition I’d worked so hard to hone, I ran my fingers through my hair then pulled it back off my face and was out the door.

I felt like Gene Kelly in
Singing in the Rain
. I was happy again after so long of merely existing in this concrete jungle, and had to refrain from dancing in the streets. Jaz had never really left my heart, but she was finally back in my arms, and this time I wasn’t going to be so foolish as to think we could be physically apart but still be together. No, if she was lucky enough to tour with this show then I’d be going with her. They say ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’, but in my experience, the saying ‘out of sight, out of mind’ is truer.

Skipping up the front steps to her door, I raised my hand and was just about to knock when the door flew open and Jaz came barging out, straight into me.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” I joked as she rebounded off my chest and clutched at the doorjamb to stop from falling on her ass.

A wide grin replaced the look of surprise on her face before she propelled herself into my arms. “What are you doing here?” she mumbled through the scarf that was wrapped over her mouth as her face nuzzled my neck.

My arms wrapped all the way around her slender frame, and I squeezed her into my body. “Thought you might like an escort on the train again today.”

Her eyes narrowed as she pulled the fabric from her face. “Aren’t you supposed to be busy with Lucia?”

I shrugged. “It’s not important. I just offered to help plan a party for her parents’ anniversary, but that was when I had time on my hands.”

“And now?” Her brow was cocked.

“And now I have you on my hands.”

“Or in your hands.” She giggled, stepping away.

I somehow felt lighter as we walked briskly, our fingers linked, toward the train. So this was how life in a big city felt when you had someone to share it with. Not so lonely anymore—not so insignificant because someone actually cared. I knew I had Mama and Papa who showered more love and attention on me than my own parents. And Lucia, who showed a little more interest in me than I was comfortable with. But there had been no one who actually understood me. Who had truly touched my heart the way Jaz had before or after her. From the first, she had been the girl who’d made me melt. Who had me wanting to try harder, to do better, just to put a smile on her gorgeous heart-shaped face when I’d succeeded. Even if what I’d achieved had seemed trivial, Jaz had been my personal cheerleader. She had pepped me up when I was down and ready to give up, and she had shared in my joy of triumph, being happier for my achievements than for her own.

She was everything to me, and with fate smiling down on me after I’d been sure all hope had been lost, I felt invincible.

My seat in the theater beckoned as I settled in for another ass-numbing day of auditions.

“You don’t have to stay, Bax. I know you have other things to do.”

I chuckled. “Are you kidding? I’ve missed watching you dance. Besides, it gives me a sense of satisfaction to see you wipe the floor with these clowns.”

“They’re not clowns,” she said on a laugh.

“Oh, no?” I nodded toward two guys who were warming up, one in a red all-in-one bodysuit that made him look like a skinny Santa, the other in white tights and a fluro green fitted singlet.

Jaz’s mouth twisted as she attempted to hide her smirk. “Okay, so maybe they are a tad clownish, but they just want to be noticed.”

“They should be noticed for their dancing, like you are, not for their ridiculous costumes.”

The dancers took to the stage for a day of dance, which by the end would have their parts in the show determined.

Once again, Pierre partnered with Jaz, and my gut churned at the amount of attention he lavished on my girl. As he lifted her over his head while she was in arabesque, his hand was higher than required to support her—high enough to nearly cop a feel. I knew those moves; I invented them. I’d touched Jaz every chance I’d got when we’d danced together, my hand just high enough to make her blush, but that had been different. She’d been my girlfriend and I’d had her permission. This guy was taking advantage. It was like a boss feeling up his secretary. Complain at your own peril and risk losing your job. Or, in Jaz’s case, miss out on the part.

At every break, Jaz would glance over at me and pull a face. Sometimes a delighted grin that she’d nailed it, sometimes a grimace if she didn’t. Both made me chuckle. What didn’t make me chuckle was the uncomfortable flush of her cheeks and darting eyes when the creepazoid brushed a loose lock of hair from her cheek.

The dancers broke for lunch which meant a Diet Pepsi and a few bites of an apple. Jaz skipped down the aisle to me and planted herself in my lap, her arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders. Glancing over at Pierre—oh yes, he was watching—I gave him a smug grin before nuzzling Jaz’s neck and making her giggle.

“You don’t have to stay, Bax. You must have something else more important to do. Like a job?” Her brow cocked.

“I want to be here. Keep an eye on things.” I glared at Pierre who was now deep in conversation with the assistant choreographer.

Jaz followed my gaze. “He’s a bit too touchy-feely.”

I nodded.

“Reminds me of when we used to dance together.” She leaned in so her hot breath heated my neck. “Only I didn’t mind your hands on me.” Her fingertips ran down my chest until she pulled playfully at the button on my jeans.