Stripped (16 page)

Miraculously, Stone made my heart whole again. He accomplished this great feat in two ways—he proved to me that my heart wasn’t broken beyond repair and that I
could
love dance again and—

That I
could
fall
in love.

He’s a beautiful, wild creature, and I’ve never felt so alive as I do when I’m with him.

My feelings in this short amount of time have grown beyond friendship—and they’ve moved way past the proposition terms.

It was just supposed to be fun. A fling. Boy, has it ever been fun, but now for me, it’s become more.

He has become so much more to me.

But Stone isn’t a sure thing. He’s still a playboy-stripper who knows how to deliver the moves and the charm. I’m positive he wants to keep it in the fling zone. That’s probably why it’s all so easy for him, believing I’ll probably be leaving again for New York. I don’t know if I’m right or wrong or crazy—if he felt the same way for me, wouldn’t he say? He says everything else that pops into his mind. I feel like my limited experience with men puts me at a severe disadvantage. Especially trying to judge this situation.

I’m afraid, and my newly repaired heart is tender.

I can’t allow Stone to be synonymous with dance—not after what happened with Viktor.

I need to be sure I don’t repeat my last mistake.

I have to find this strength and passion from inside of me. Stand and dance on my own two feet—figuratively and literally. That way, it can never be taken away from me again—no matter what happens—it’ll be mine.

If I don’t find my own power, a part of me will always be weak.

No. I refuse to ever be that house of cards again. If failure happens, I can never crumble like I did. That place was so dark—I can never go back there, no matter what happens in my life.

Stone lifted me out of a deep pit, but I’m responsible for my own happiness.

That responsibility begins now.

I queue Mary Chapin Carpenter’s “10,000 Miles”—and there, on top of the world, looking over the city—

I dance.

I dance the piece I’d choreographed for my graduation ceremony—that lovely emotional and passionate piece, an amalgam of contemporary and ballet. I keep off pointe, since it still frightens me and isn’t necessary.

I open my heart—I feel the wind and become one again with my body in a way I haven’t in so long.

Endorphins wash over me. Dance had always been my escape, my artistic expression—thoughts without words. It’s always brought out the very best part of me. I lost that in my great depression.

Here and now,
I let the dance come from the deepest part of me.

Every suppressed idea and emotion is let loose as my soul, spirit, and body become one. Reunited.

The cohesion sparks renewed life into every part of my being once more.
All of my energy funnels into this one moment and I’m re-connected to this universe again in a powerful way.

I realize I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

I’m so happy, I cry. And laugh. As I fly through the air and lilt upon strong legs, strong feet. I lift myself into the air, leap and jump, and land again safely.

The powerful sun shines brightly onto my face—the warmth spreads through my entire being—and I promise I will never allow myself to be swallowed in the darkness again.

When the song is finished, I stand at the side of the building, cup my hands over my mouth and shout over Los Angeles, “MY NAME IS EMELIE CARTIER! AND I AM INVINCIBLE!”

Chapter Sixteen

Stone

Fuel for the flame

Me: So, did the come-inator… Come. In?

Em: Oh my God, what is wrong with you?

I bet she’s blushing.

Me: Did you get it?

Em: I have a box here.

Me: Did you open it?

Em: I’m afraid to.

Me: Then did you employ one of your fucking vegetables?

Em: OMG NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I chuckle quietly.

Me: The salami then?

Em: My gay roomie confiscated it.

I’m positive I don’t want to think about that.

I knock.

Em: Is that you??

Me: What do you think?

She opens the door, and I feel like I’m looking at the sun after a long fucking winter. She’s prettier now than she was when I dropped her off last night.

“You’re texting me from the hallway.”

“At least I’m not sexting you from the hallway.”

“I suppose I should be grateful.”

“I thought by showing up early, I might have gotten a glimpse of you in a towel.”

“Maybe next time.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Could be.”

“Well, if you came to my house I’d be a proper host and answer the door in a towel.”

“Well then, I can’t wait,” she says and closes the door as she steps out into the hallway with me and locks the door with her key.

“Wait a minute, are you serious?” I’m a bit dumbfounded, between ogling the length of her legs, along with her figure, in that tiny dress and what
I think
I just heard her say.

“No, not at all.” She smiles sweetly and starts down the stairs. “What’s on this evening’s agenda?”

Now she’s got my mind racing. “Unless you give the word to go back to my place, we’ll stop at my friend Matt’s studio so we can develop a good mix of the two songs you picked for the choreography.”

“Cool.”

“That won’t take more than a couple hours, and I thought if we finished up with rehearsal a little early, we could go to Foreplay for some karaoke.”

She busts up laughing.

“Is that good or bad laughter? ’Cause, honestly, it sounds a bit mental.”

“I am never stepping foot into the place again!”

“Come on, it’d be fun and you can meet my sister Glenda.” I open the passenger door to my Jeep, lend her my hand, and watch leeringly as she climbs into the seat. “Think about it. It’s not the Friday night crowd, and it’s not like the owner put your photo on the wall above the bar like a celebrity or anything.”

I shut the door just as she shouts my name, so her scolding tone is muffled.

After giving her a second to cool off, I hide my grin and slide behind the wheel.

Matt is great to work with, and in less than three hours we have an excellent mix of Bach and Flo Rida that sounds a lot like victory imbued with Emelie’s magical touch.

Tonight during practice, Emelie is like a different person. She’s spirited—full of confidence and passion. Instead of mainly giving me instructions with a little shadowing, she’s completely letting go, dancing fully beside me. Not only is she directing me in the ballet and executing the steps along with me, she’s trying to catch on to the hip hop moves!

After some time I ask, “Hey, why don’t we cut the music for now and go through the routine slower. Help us both pick up those steps.”

She nods. “Okay.”

For the next few hours we practice—hard. Em is relentless as she sets her mind to learning each step.

“Jesus, you’re going to have the entire number down at this rate. I am impressed.”

I desperately want to know what the change was, how it came about, and how she’s feeling, but until she offers to tell me, I think I don’t want to push her—especially
away
—so I’ll wait until she makes the decision on her own.

“That was really fun,” she says, glowing radiantly between sips of water from her pink carry bottle.

“Yeah it was!” I agree.

“So, Foreplay, huh?”

“Really? We don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she decides. “I need to get over my tragedies.”

The car park at Foreplay is virtually deserted save for a couple handfuls of vehicles. That’s what eleven o’clock on a weeknight does. I throw on a ball cap and a pair of Ray Bans.

“Sun too much for you?”

“I don’t want to be recognized. Better to go in stealthy and see who’s there first.”

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes but grins.

I take her hand in mine. I want everyone looking to know she’s with me.

“Stone!” Glenda comes bounding out from behind the bar to greet me. “Oh my God, you must be Emelie!”

Or rather, to greet Emelie.

Glenda scoops her into a hug. My fam isn’t big on personal space. Thankfully, Em plays it cool and returns the embrace.

“Stone can talk of nothing else,” my sister tells my
not-girlfriend
and drags her by her hand to the bar. “You’re just as beautiful as he says.”

“Glad I don’t embarrass easily,” I quip.

“Are you kidding, if you’re going to keep this one you’ll need all the help you can get.”

Yeah, my little sister can dish it out.

“What can I get you, Emelie? On the house,” Glenda gushes.

“Thanks so much.” She’s blushing. Even in the low lighting I can tell. “Um, a Corona would be great.”

“Coming up!” My sis disappears behind the bar.

“She’s so lovely,” Em says. “She looks like an elven fairy.”

“It’s the pixie cut,” I respond. “But don’t let her fool you, she can spit venom.”

Glenda comes back and gives Em her beer with a smile before scowling at me. “You can get yours the old fashioned way.”

“What did I do?” I bark.

“It’s what you didn’t do.”

“Jesus, am I supposed to read your bloody mind?”

She just stares at me. Immediately it’s like telepathic brain waves flow between us.

“Shit!”

“Yeah, shit! When are you going to tell them?”

“Tell who and what?” Em joins in, her gaze switching between the two of us.

“Our parents. Johnny Castle here hasn’t told them he’s going for the
Then Prove You Can Dance
audition—that is only three weeks away.” Glenda directs that last bit at me, her voice brimming with reprimand.

Em turns to me. “Why don’t you want to tell them?”

“Because I have to work with them on a daily basis, and it’ll make them both pissy with me.”

“What’s your plan then, bro? You gonna wait till they see you on the telly?”

“Maybe I will, Glen. Maybe that would be easier for all of us,” I answer. “At least then I wouldn’t have to go into the office.”

“Why wouldn’t they approve?” Em asks. “It’s just a competition.”

I can’t fault her, I never really told her my entire plan—

Of course I don’t need to, because Glenda does it for me. “Because this idiot wants to use it as a springboard to become a professional dancer.”

“How professional?” Em looks up at me.

Glenda answers
again
. “Like, quit his job with the ’rents, professional.”

“We never did discuss my long term goals.” I’m almost apologetic to Emelie.

“It’s okay.” Em smiles sympathetically.

“It won’t be okay when he makes it through the first audition and then takes off for Vegas. It won’t be okay when he advances through
every
round—which he will—and the people who run the show whisk him away to tour for the show! I’m pretty sure Mum and Dad will notice your arse gone then.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” I’m already nearing exhaustion with her and this earbashing. “You’re right, shit’s fucked, but I’m not going to have them raining on my parade before it even begins.”

“I know it means a lot to you, Stone,” she says, softer. I don’t trust that. “Which is why I haven’t dobbed on you—I haven’t mentioned it, even though
I
have to live with them and see them every day too—and
I’m
going to be the one who’ll be picking up the pieces when you go without telling them.”

“I promise, if I pass the audition rounds, I’ll tell them,” I say. “Now, can we please kill this conversation and have one less embarrassing, like maybe about me and my naked baby photos?”

“That wouldn’t be embarrassing for you,” she chides. “You’d like it!”

I shrug. She knows me too well.

Someone is on stage butchering an Adele song. I think my ears might start bleeding from it—
or maybe that’s because of my sister.

“Do you sing karaoke, Emelie?” Glenda is all sweet again.

“Definitely not.”

“She could if she wanted to,” I say to them both. But my mood’s changed. I’m annoyed now. Glenda just let the air out of my balloon. I wish Em and I had gone somewhere else.

“Don’t go all dark and brooding. I didn’t mean to be a bitch,” she apologizes. “I’m just worried, and Mum can tell something’s up with you—but I’m going to guess that’s mostly Emelie.”

I give her a severe look.
What the fuck, Glenda!?

She realizes her error and quickly jumps away from that last statement. “And I have to find a new job.”

“Wait, what? Why?” I’m surprised to hear her say that. She likes this place—it’s very woman-friendly.

“Jay’s on my case.”

“Who’s Jay?” Em looks up from her drink.

“My ex-boyfriend,” she explains to Em. “He works here as a dancer.”

“If Maggie knew what he did…” I growl.

“That was between him and me.” Glenda lifts her chin... then rolls her eyes. “And the Doublemint twins.”

“The what?” Em asks.

I reply, “Jay is a douche. Glenda came home to find him in bed with a set of twins, and when she slapped him for it, he hit her back.”

“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. We’d only been together for a month—he asked me out when I first came to work here—so the cheating was ugly and rude, but not devastating. I was never in love with him,” Glenda says.

“The cheating was disrespectful; striking you was fucking wrong and abusive,” I remind her.

“It was months ago. Plus, you fucked him up for it and spent the night downtown in lock up. So let’s not do that again, okay? You have an audition to ready yourself for. Just get over it.” Glenda walks away to take care of a few patrons on the other side of the bar.

“If he’s messing with you again
he’s
not over it,” I call at her back.

“Got arrested?”

“I was released on bail a few hours later.” I snarl, “The good-for-nothing tosser can dish it out, but he can’t take it.”

“What does she mean by messing with her?”

“Douchebag won’t leave her alone. Wants her back to have another go. Like ED does with you.”

Glenda comes sauntering back with a beer for me. “So, you guys gonna sing?”

I elbow Emelie teasingly. “Come on, hotshot, we can do a duet. It’ll be fun.”

“Um, have you heard me sing?”

“You sang on the hood of my Jeep the other night.” I wink.

“I lip synced. Huge difference.”

“Have you heard Stone sing?” Glenda asks.

“Yes, I’ve… had the pleasure.” Emelie blushes sweetly and avoids my eyes.

Glenda smiles and alternates her gaze between the two of us. “Well, let’s get a few more beers into her then ask again later.”

Em and I sit at a private table in a darkened corner and chat about the dance number. I can’t understand a thing she says—probably because I’m completely distracted by the motion of her mouth and thoughts of me sticking my tongue into it.

I’d love to be running my fingers over the smooth, silky skin of her thigh and watching my hands disappear underneath that pretty blue dress.

“So, what do you think?” she asks me.

“It’s a great idea.” I’m saying that about my own daydream.

She narrows her eyes. “You’re not paying attention.”

“I am. More than you know.”

“Oh yeah? What did I say?” she challenges.

“I don’t have a fucking clue.”

She giggles and it’s so damn cute.

“I was saying that it’s getting really late and we should be getting to bed.”

“Absolutely! That is
exactly
what I was thinking.”

Em rolls her eyes, but her cheeks flash pink and she nibbles her bottom lip. “Because you need to
sleep
. The rehearsals are going to get grueling, especially since you have to work during the day.”