Grease Monkey Jive (29 page)

“Just go, Phil. Go and don’t come back,” she said.

“Alex, you need to give me a chance.”

“I don’t need to give you anything, ever again. Go.”

“I left her for you,” Phil said, voice raised, his anger making him tighten his grip on the flowers, making them tremble in their expensive arrangement.

“Leave or I will call the cops, Phil. Come near me again and I will call the cops.”

“Come near her again and it won’t be the cops you’ll have to worry about,” said Dan and Mitch nodded once emphatically.

“Alex!”

“I swear to God, Phil. Leave now or...”

“Or what, Alexandra? You’ll have your pathetic little nancy-boy students rough me up.”

Mitch growled again and Dan put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Say the word and he’s roadkill.” He could feel her shaking, so he stepped a little closer and kept his hand where it was.

“Alright, I’m going. I just want you to know that you’re throwing away a good life, Alex. A good life and the chance to make something of yourself.”

“We would never have had a good life.”

“You stupid little girl.”

“That’s it!” said Mitch. “He’s mine.” This time the possessive was entirely suitable to Dan’s ears as he watched Mitch step past Alex and make for Phil, sweeping the flowers from his hands and walking him backwards towards the door, fists up ready to strike.

Alex sagged back into his arms. She was shaking from the adrenaline rush. Dan folded himself around her and held her while she struggled to control her breathing.

In seconds, Mitch was back, a big smile on his face. He’d enjoyed that. He dusted off his hands in a cartoonish gesture. “That was fun. Call me anytime you need the garbage chucked out, Teach.”

He got a weak smile from Alex and no eye contact from Dan. What the? And what was this Alex in Dan’s arms thing? Where did that come from? It wasn’t looking very student – teacher, more hunter – prey, no, more fish – hooked.
Hah
, he thought,
we’ll see about that
.

Waiting for class to finish was the watched kettle, the wet wallpaper drying, the grass growing. It was the longest fifteen minutes Dan could remember. He wanted to be able to look at Alex up close and know she was all right.

She was doing a good imitation of it, taking care with one of the married couples, sharing a joke with Fluke and Carlie, then welcoming the advanced group and sending them into the other room with a newly arrived Trevor. He knew he was staring at her and caught Mitch shaking his head at him. It didn’t make him stop.

Finally they had the room to themselves. There could’ve been sudden shyness, whispered apologies, fresh minted tears, a slightly too desperately held hug, the vague threat of unspoken endearments, or simply painful, stumbling embarrassment and awkwardness born of daylight. There was none of that.

Alex came to stand in front of him the tips of her shoes touching his, the light of her eyes in his gaze. Neither of them pressed for more. She had dark circles topping her cheeks, but she was smiling.

“You take the rescuing damsels in distress thing way too seriously.”

“Do I?”

“You should loosen up a bit.”

“Should I?”

“Would you like to dance?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Dan watched Alex move towards the stereo, wondered if her joking manner was real or fake, if the exaggerated shift of her hips was for his benefit. “Alex?”

She turned back to face him, now out of reach. “I’m good, Dan. I’ll be fine. I’m sorry about last night.”

She didn’t play their track; she picked another song, whistling, then lyrics about shooting for stars and aiming for hearts. Maroon 5’s Adam Levine and Christina Aguilera singing about having moves like Mick Jagger.

To dance with her would be enough for now. He waited to feel her hand on his shoulder, but she launched herself at him, slamming into him, knocking him back a step, her arms around his neck, her feet off the ground. He had to stop himself from gripping her too hard, from pressing her to his heart so that no one would ever hurt her again. When he released her, he looked for tears; he was surprised by mischief.

If this was a lesson, it was starting with a make-believe scenario more like something from the Son of a Beach Bar, Alex less teacher-with-instructions and more temptress-on-the-prowl.

She sang the chorus, “Take me by the tongue and I’ll know you,” and it felt like a direct invitation. She moved close and teased him with searing looks and quick hot hands. He tried to hold her in place against his hips, but she danced away. He snatched her hand and she brought his knuckles to her cheek. She turned and her ponytail flicked across his collarbone. He lunged for her and she laughed at him, dancing further away, making him chase her.

He’d worked up a sweat now, his skin blistered with moisture. Alex moved in close and when he lifted his arm to hold her, she dipped her head and ran her tongue over his bicep, tasting his sweat. He inhaled in surprise and grabbed for her again, but she was faster and spun away from him, her eyes blazing.

She sang another line, “You wanna know how to make me smile. Take control, own me just for the night,” and Dan knew she wasn’t so much teasing anymore as she was requesting. The small part of his brain that wasn’t flooded with the heat of seduction was asking how they got here so quickly, how they’d gone from tears and heartache in the dark to this dance of enticement, this promise of capture and release.

He was overwhelmed by her allure. He stopped trying to figure her out and went with it. He took her hand, threaded her against his side. He closed his fist over her ponytail and pulled the band until it dropped to the ground releasing her hair in a silken cloud around her face and shoulders. This time she gasped and turned so she could press her length against him and bury her hands in his hair, pressing her digits to his scalp like she was trying to feel his thoughts through her finger tips.

When they kissed there was nothing denied, hesitant, teasing, or staged about it. This kiss was body-tensing, soul-opening, heart-shocking, electrical in its impact, stinging in its intensity, uncontained, addictive, and altering. Dan lost time, lost place, lost the desire to stand, and ended sitting on the floor, wrapped in Alex, breathless and careless and vibrating with sensation.

This kiss was in its prime. It took flight, soared, broke the sound barrier, orbited the stars, and sighted new galaxies. It made Dan an astronaut, weightless, floating until a spooky crackle of static from the stereo called him back to his body.

She was pressed to him, chest to chest, hip to hip. “Alex, I...”

“Shhh.”

“We...”

“I know.”

“But...”

“There are no lines anymore.”

“Baby, there needs to be.”

“No.”

“It’s too soon.”

“It’s been a long time coming.”

“You’re hurt and confused.”

“Not about this.”

In this new tender-soaked quiet, the small part of Dan’s brain could shout and be heard, clarion clear. Not like this, not yet, not with this woman. He pressed his lips to her temple, stroked his hand down her glossy hair, breathed the spicy perfume of her moist skin. If he didn’t say it, he was scum for taking advantage of her hurt. If he didn’t say it, he was everything Fluke didn’t trust anymore. If he didn’t say it, he was Jimmy’s son. Once nothing else but having the chick would have mattered, but with this woman everything mattered.

“Alex, I can’t do this.”

It took a long time for her to react. It took a long time for her to lift her face, study his eyes, drop her arms from his neck. When she unwrapped her legs from his waist and stood she moved slowly as though giving him every opportunity to change his mind, take it back, claim her once again. He let her go.

She went to the stereo, did something with its dials. Left him sitting there, now conscious of the hard floor, the soft strains of the music from the class next door, and the gravity of what he’d done.

They’d reached the same conclusion. Dan had done it with Alex. They just didn’t agree on what he’d done.

“He’s definitely fucked her,” said Fluke.

“I’m not so sure. I think she might be the ‘friend’,” Mitch made finger quotation marks in the air.

Fluke made a single finger gesture.

“If you weren’t still so pissed off with him, you wouldn’t discount the friend theory so quickly. Look at Alex. She’s not Dan’s average one-night-stand. She’s not anyone’s.”

“Maybe, but see how they are together. It’s enough to make you sick. All touchy and looky and melty.”

Mitch laughed. “You jealous?”

“No.” A pause during which Mitch tried and failed to squeeze a splinter out of his finger and Fluke brooded into his beer. Then Fluke said, “Shit yeah! Why is it always him?”

When Dan arrived, Mitch could see he looked tired and grumpy. He was often tired after a rehearsal with Scott and Alex, but never grumpy.

“What gives?” said Mitch, putting a coke in front of Dan. Dan had stopped drinking mid-week altogether now. He’d stopped doing a lot of things and started doing different ones.

Dan took a sip, sucked up an ice cube, and crunched it. He eyeballed Fluke, “I’m fucking miserable and I hope you’re happy.” He waited for Fluke to grin or laugh or make some smart arse comment, but Fluke just sat there, hands folded on the bar top. Dan was disappointed; he felt like a good fight. He stared at those freckled knuckles. “I could’ve had her.” He looked into Fluke’s blue eyes. “But I had you in my head telling me it was wrong.”

“Won’t be my fault, mate.” Fluke made a study of beer foam.

“What are you talking about?” said Mitch, looking from Dan to Fluke.

“Alex,” said Dan.

“What? You knocked her back?” said Mitch.

“I told her I couldn’t do it. Too soon after Phil. She was hurt and needed time.”

“Wow, man,” said Mitch.

Dan glared at Fluke. “Fluke, tell me I’m not a fucking idiot.”

“That’s your call, mate, not mine.”

“I said no to her and now she friggin’ can’t stand the sight of me. She’s never been so cold. I thought I might get frostbite being in the same room with her tonight.”

“How do you feel?” said Mitch.

Dan rounded on Mitch. “How do you think I feel? I’m gutted.”

“You think it was wrong to say no to her?” said Fluke.

“No, I think it was right – that’s why I’m miserable. It was right. I’ve never done such a right thing by a woman in my life, but I’m not sure what the point of it is if it makes you feel like this.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“No, I don’t. I could have her in my bed now if I hadn’t been so goddamn self-righteous.”

“And then what would’ve happened?”

“You think I haven’t thought that through? You think I don’t know I was just her rebound? I’m wondering what was so wrong with that.”

“No, you’re not.”

Dan looked at Fluke. He didn’t get where this was going, but suddenly old Fluke was back and serving it up to him, but without the rancour that had characterised their contact since the Katie incident.

The old Fluke said, “You’re just pissed off you didn’t get the girl yet.”

“Yet?”

“Come on, Dan. I never said doing the respect for women thing was going to be easy. You never thought it would be. I know I’ve been shitting on you, but I also know what you’ve done. This whole thing with the lessons and the competition, you’re trying to change.”

“You have changed.” said Mitch. He clinked his beer glass on Dan’s empty coke glass.

“Yeah, he’s a ballroom dancer now,” said Fluke.

“Yet?” Dan repeated.

“Why’d you really say no?” Fluke queried.

“Because 2am Monday morning she was with me, crying her heart out about the break up. What was I supposed to do? She’s not ready for another relationship.”

And didn’t that get Fluke and Mitch exchanging surprised faces.

“How do you know she wants a relationship and not just wild sex, you arrogant son of a bitch?” said Fluke, but he was grinning like he already had the answer.

“I don’t, but she’d made it pretty damn clear she’d never be a conquest, so I wasn’t thinking she just wanted sex. It’s not what I want. She’s not a girl to fool around with.”

“You hearing yourself?”

“Leave off, Fluke.”

“What are you hearing?”

“That my dog days are over and I’m fucking miserable.”

Scott hauled himself up on the railing and sat, dangling his booted foot. It was early still and the beach was littered with joggers and early morning swimmers. There were no waves to speak of, but the surfers were out there, still waiting, hoping to be surprised. There’d be more gossip than rides this morning.

He wondered if Dan was out there. Last night he’d watched Alex slice through Dan during rehearsal like he was butter left out of the fridge too long. He hadn’t expected that. The attraction he was sure he’d seen between them and tried to kick into higher gear had fizzled and burned out. No, not so much burned out as turned rancid. He didn’t know if he should feel guilty. He’d pushed them with that kiss, but he thought they’d have fun with it, figured Alex could handle it.

Ah, who was he kidding? He wanted to see Alex with Dan, not Phil. He just didn’t know how pure his motives were, because he wanted to win too and that spark of desire on the dance floor was points in the bag.

The caveman was a good guy; anyone could see that. Just the fact that he hadn’t once slacked off, taken offense, or curled a fist told you that. He was more genuine and more interested in Alex than corporate man ever had been. Alex thought Dan was a player, but, in all the time Scott had known him, he’d been nothing but courteous and humorous and there’d never been any sign of arrogance or pretence in him. So what if he wore thongs and work boots instead of six-hundred-dollar shoes?

Scott waited till the last of the surfers hitched a ride to shore. None of them was Dan. He headed for the garage and found him there, under the hood of his Valiant. It was only eight in the morning and already Dan had a layer of black grease under his nails and smeared over his hands and arms, freckles of black grit dotting one cheekbone. If his own designer-label, pristine, pressed, white shirt could’ve talked, it would have said something like, “Out devil!” It was a reminder not to get too close to Dan when he was in grease monkey mode. It was fascinating how well he cleaned up, given the sort of effort he’d have to go to before he came to the studio each night.