The Cirque (24 page)

“Wow.”

“Yeah, so Del had no problem taking Gabriel back – in fact, he said you’re both welcome to come back on tour next summer.”

“Hmm. I don’t know about that. I guess it’s nice to have the option though.”

“Anyway,” Sasha continued, “Gabriel worked a few shows so he could save up a bit more money then he took off again.”

My heart jumped. “I just saw one of his paintings at an art studio here in New York.”

“Then I think you have your answer,” Tanner said.

I was speechless for a second, trying to recover from the thought that Gabriel might be in New York. “If he’s here, why hasn’t he come for me yet?”

“Just be patient with him, Ari. He’ll figure it out,” Sasha said.

“And when he does,” Tanner said, “don’t forget to wear your pinker-than-pink lip gloss!”

I chuckled. Leave it to Tanner to lighten the mood, and of course Sasha’
s advice was probably spot on about not rushing Gabriel.

“Okay, you guys. Love you.”

“We love you too!” they shouted in unison.

I clicked the phone off, feeling more hopeful than I probably should.

***
I spent the morning sitting at the coffee shop across the street from my apartment. My mom had moved out this past weekend into her own place, leaving the apartment to Gertie and me.

I’d decided to work my way through the books Gabriel had read this past summer, starting with
Wuthering Heights
, the first book I saw him with – only his copy had been missing its cover.

In the book, Heathcliff and Catherine were inseparable. Heathcliff was troubled and dark, and Catherine was in constant need of his attention. But they were never lovers. There was an unnerving resemblance to my relationship with Gabriel, only our story wasn’t a work of fiction.

My conversation with Sasha and Tanner had restored some hope that Gabriel would surface when he was ready.

I closed the book and watched the traffic pass. The leaves rustled by, swirling around my ankles and I sensed a change in the air.

“Did you like the ending?” I heard a deep voice ask.

As if in slow motion, I looked up and saw Gabriel standing in front of me. He looked calm and content, with his signature smirk firmly in place. He wore dark jeans and a navy
blue sweater that made the soft blue of his eyes stand out. I jumped up, knocking my chair back against the sidewalk. I wanted to throw my arms around his neck, but it had been so long since I’d seen him, I didn’t know how to act. I didn’t want to freak him out.

I watched him curiously for a second, before realizing he was still looking down at the book and was waiting for my answer.

“They never got to be together,” I said meeting his eyes. I placed my hand carefully on his chest and felt his heart thumping steadily against my palm, proving that he was really there. “I didn’t know how to find you.”

“I’m here now,” he said simply. He pulled me to his chest, and his familiar scent washed over me, overwhelming my senses. He held me against him, running his hands along my arms. I rested my head against his chest and listened to his erratic heartbeat that succeeded in drowning out the traffic speeding by. A moment later, he stepped back and let his eyes travel down the length of my body, as if he wanted to soak in the sight of me. I felt hot under his gaze.

He lifted my chin and ducked to meet my mouth. He hesitated for just a moment, softly brushing his lips against mine then claiming my mouth as his.

I led him across the street to my apartment and butterflies danced around in my stomach as we climbed the stairs that never seemed to end. As I led him upstairs, I said a silent prayer of thanks my mom had moved out last weekend into her own place.

I unlocked the door to my apartment and Gertie came bounding over to greet him, jumping up against his leg repeatedly until he bent down and picked her up.

“Hi.” He kissed the top of her head and held her to his chest as she struggled and squirmed to lick his face.

I showed him around the small apartment, the open kitchen, living and dining room. I pointed out my room, the guest room and the bathroom at the end of the hall. He dropped his duffle bag on the floor of the guest room as we passed by. My heart did a little shuffle wondering if we were going to be together now, if he was just trying to be polite by putting his things there.

We sat on the couch and caught up while I savored watching him. He was just as I remembered and had no lingering effects of being in jail for a month.

“So what happened?” I asked.

“I had to go back to Del and work a few shows to save up some more money. I bought a plane ticket and came out here as soon as I could.”

“But you’re…free?”

He nodded. “Probation. Anger management classes. Avoid knives,” he rattled off, imitating the judge’s voice.

I knew he’d gotten lucky to get off so easy, but I didn’t really know what to say, how to talk about this situation with him. “So, Del took you back?”

“Why do you look so surprised?”

“He fired you.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but you know Del. He just tries to keep the peace. And Sasha finally succeeded in getting Dmitri fired, so th
at made things a little easier. She told Del about what actually happened between you and Dmitri and why I fought him. You’re like a daughter to Del – he was not okay with what Dmitri tried to do. Plus I don’t think Del ever liked the way Dmitri looked at Marta.”

I guess a lot had changed in the few weeks I’d been away. “Wow, Sash must be happy.”

“Ecstatic.” He smiled.

The sun hovered low in the sky and I offered to make the three of us dinner. “You’ll eat?” I asked. “I don’t know how to make anything spicy, but there’s this special dish that Gertie likes––”

“I’ll eat,” he confirmed, chuckling at me.

We went to the kitchen and he sat on a stool at the island.

I made a production of sliding the knife block away from him. “Maybe we’ll just keep this over here.” He shot me a look across the island and fought off a smile. I took armfuls of ingredients out of the fridge and cupboards.

“I didn’t really scare you when we first met, did I?” He reached out and ran his finger along the counter.

“Kind of,” I admitted.

“I figured you could tell the way I looked at you that I was falling for you. I thought I was so obvious.”

“What you’re thinking is never obvious,” I said.

“Well, you can always ask me. I told you I’d never lie to you,” he said softly.

“What are you thinking right now?” I smiled shyly.

Gabriel moved his eyes down my body and I felt hot under his gaze. He swallowed. “You look beautiful,” he said. He came up behind me and offered to help chop the vegetables, placing his hand over mine on the cutting board.

I slid the knife away from him, shaking my head. “Judge’s orders.” He laughed under his breath, next to my ear. It felt good to have him close to me again. His arms on either side of me pinned me to the counter, but I squirmed my way around so I was facing him. I looked up into his eyes, waiting for him to kiss me, but he took a sudden step back.

He moved back to the stool and watched as I boiled pasta, steamed the veggies and simmered the sauce on the stove. I’d made linguine pasta with lemon cream sauce and asparagus one night a few weeks ago, and Gertie lapped up every drop of sauce, proving there was nothing this dog wouldn’t eat. Afterwards, I got her some dog food that she now ate most of the time, though she wasn’t happy about it.

I opened the cabinet to retrieve two glasses and noticed my hand still formed into a dance position when I wasn’t thinking about it – my wrist delicately curved, my fingers held erect – as I reached for a glass. I might not be a ballerina anymore, but pieces of that life would always be a part of me. Gabriel had been right – we were shaped by the experiences we’d been through.

When the pasta was ready, I dished up three bowls and set one down on the floor. Gabriel and I moved over to the dining table.

He looked down at the bowl of pasta in front of him. “Do you have any hot sauce?”

I shook my head. “Wait…. Hang on.” I got up and checked the spice rack. I handed him an unopened jar of red pepper flakes that had come with the spice rack.

“Perfecto.” He covered the pasta in red pepper flakes and took a bite. “This is really good.” He wiped his mouth with the napkin.

I told him all about the new show I was performing in. We tried our best to eat, and make small talk. I could tell the feeling of nervous excitement was something we both shared.

After dinner, he insisted on loading the dishwasher. This was starting to feel very domestic and I wondered what was going to happen next with us.

We went and sat down in the living room. “Are you staying here tonight?” I asked.

“Is that okay?” He slid over closer to me on the couch until our legs were touching. I could feel his body heat through his jeans. I turned to him and brought my hand to his face. It was rough with stubble.

“Of course. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I was worried about coming here. I didn’t want to mess anything up between you and your parents. Your dad helped when I really needed it. How’s everything going by the way?”

I dropped my hand from his cheek. Maybe I was trying to move things too fast for him again. Bringing up my parents as our topic of conversation when I was touching him didn’t exactly urge me on. “Surprisingly well,” I said. “Maybe it’s guilt over their divorce, but neither seems to be mad at me.”

He nodded and looked down at his hands. “And what will they think about me in your life? I’m assuming they know about my past.”
So this is what he was still worried about, that he won’t be accepted or fit into my life?

“They know and I explained that you were doing the right thing, and that you protected me when I needed protection too.”

“I have no idea what I’m going to do. I’m broke, I have no job, have a criminal record....”

“Shhh.” I brushed my finger across his lips. I couldn’t seem to stop touching him. “That doesn’t matter. You have time to figure it out.” I was finding it increasing difficult to keep my hands to myself. He tilted his head back and rested it against the wall. His eyes drifted closed. I knew I’d hinted that he stay here with me during that time, but neither of us spoke openly of that yet. “I saw your painting…in a gallery…”

He nodded. “Yeah, I sold a couple of pieces to that lawyer friend your dad hooked me up with. His family owns a gallery. Crazy, huh?”

It was a start. A start for him rebuilding his life. I smiled and squeezed his hand. “I was so scared to see you in jail,” I finally admitted.

“Yeah, that sucked,” he said, downplaying it.

I laughed. I loved the way he made fun of the bad things in life and moved on. “You did look surprisingly hot in that orange jumpsuit though.”

“Really?” He cocked his head to the side to look at me.

I nodded. “Kinda wanted to rip it off you,” I joked.
Sort of.

“Hmm.” He nodded, pleased by what I’d said. “That was probably against the rules.”

“Yeah. I checked. It was frowned upon.”

He scooted over closer to me. He brought his hand to my throat and did that thing where he tickled his fingertips lightly across my neck, driving me crazy. He pushed my hair back behind my shoulder and slowly traced patterns on my skin. I felt my cheeks flush with excitement. He leaned closer and brushed his lips across my neck. His warm breath against my skin sent tickles down my spine. His kissed my throat and inched his way toward my jaw and then finally my mouth.

I was breathless by the time our lips met. I bit his bottom lip and pulled him toward me.

He pulled back. “Wow, they warned me that prison roommates could be rough – but I had no idea….”

I bit the inside of my cheek and looked down.

“I’m kidding.” He raised my chin up to meet his eyes. “Everything’s going to be okay now.” I nodded and he kissed me again. I felt my nervousness fall away.

I felt his mouth open and when his tongue slid against mine a pressure that had been building up inside me since I’d first kissed him threatened to overwhelm me. I moaned and tangled my hands in his hair, pulling him closer. He lifted me easily and moved me to his lap. He kissed me deeply and let his hands roam up my back. He pulled me toward him and my breath caught as I pressed up against the stiffness of his body. It felt so amazing, like our bodies were molded to be together. A strange desire I’d never felt before surged up through my body, making me crave him.

He stood up suddenly, lifting me with him and then he carried me into my bedroom. He
placed me on center of the fluffy comforter and looked at me for a second before quickly joining me. He continued kissing me and I sat up to peel off my shirt. He expertly unhooked my bra with one hand while cradling my jaw with his other, causing my desire for him to rise to new levels.

He leaned back to admire my body and I used the opportunity to lift his shirt, exposing his chest to my kisses. He pulled his shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it beside the bed. I’d missed the patterns his tattoos created and let my fingers trail over the designs. Getting no resistance, I used the opportunity to unlatch his belt and work at unbuttoning his pants. I was glad he didn’t stop me, and in fact, his fingers found mine and helped me, making my pulse race.