Page 66 of Beautiful Small Things

Tonight is a night off for me since Marcus will be home around four. I don’t have any plans. I hardly have plans. This little girl is my life, and while I didn’t foresee it happening, I’ve become quite comfortable with it.

Maybe I’ll go to the local studio and dance until my legs won’t work anymore. My injured left leg still bothers me after extended periods, and I need to work on getting it stronger if I’m ever going to be able to dance professionally.

By the time Marcus arrives, I’ve gathered my things in my bag to head to the studio, and Iris is still sleeping.

“Hey,” he says cheerfully. “How was your day?”

“It was great,” I reply. “We went to the park, played on the swings, and then tried watermelon.”

“And?” He asks as his eyebrow piques in anticipation.

“Meh,” I reply. “She was lukewarm about it. She did get it all over that fancy little blue dress my sister bought her.”

“Thank God your sister is having a kid of her own soon. I need to build Iris another wing in the house just for her clothes.”

“That’s true,” I laugh. “But you should build that wing anyway. She mentioned that boys’ clothes aren’t as cute or fun to shop for.”

“Jesus,” he says with a laugh and a shake of his head. “So, what are your plans for tonight?”

I’m picking up toys with my back to him as I answer. “Nothing special. I was thinking of going to the studio for a while.”

When I turn around, he’s staring at me, holding the rejection letter from Renault.

“James,” he says softly, “I’m sorry.”

I gulp down the embarrassment of him finding the letter and internally chastise myself for leaving it out.

“It’s OK,” I tell him. “That is one of the toughest conservatories to get into. It’s like getting into your dream college. You don’t expect it but want to apply anyway.”

He nods in understanding. “Is there anything I can do? I know you must feel slightly disappointed; this is your first rejection.”

I haven’t mentioned the other letters to Marcus, and I don’t know why. I just know I don’t want him involved in that aspect of my life.

“It’s honestly fine,” I tell him, grabbing my bag. “Iris has been down for about forty-five minutes. I’ll see you later.” I run out before he has a chance to say anything.

I’ve been dancing for what feels like hours. Judy, the owner of the studio, left already. I’ve known her forever, so thankfully she didn’t kick me out. She just left the keys and asked me to lock up.

I’ve dimmed all the lights and turned up the music loud enough to drown out my thoughts. As I close my eyes and sway, I begin to match the pulse of the beat with my movements. Suddenly, I feel someone in the space. The air takes on a charged atmosphere as I see Marcus standing to my left, watching me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, completely confused as to why he would seek me out. Then panic sets in. “Is Iris Ok?”

“Iris is fine,” he smiles. “She’s with your sister for a few hours.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’ve been thinking,” he says, sauntering toward me, “that we should revisit the ground rules.”

The way he’s looking at me makes my heart rate accelerate. He’s wearing sweats and a tee shirt that stretches across his chest. As he gets closer, his scent washes over me and makes my head spin.

“You see,” he says confidently, “I know you’ve had a bad day. I’d like to make you feel better.”

My mouth is dry as I speak. “How do you want to do that?” I ask.

He gets so close to me that his lips ghost mine as he speaks. “I want to fuck you right now. In this dance studio. Against these mirrors.”

Fire ignites throughout my body at his words. It’s been over two years since I’ve seen the filthy version of Marcus, the one that brings me to my knees.

But I can’t give in that easily. That’s not who we are. So I take a step back and tilt my head to the side, challenging him.